A very Freudian poem

My old man’s castrating me

today. I know it. I can feel

it in my balls. The anxiety like

unsettling waves of darkness

making me cower and hide.

Peekaboo, he says with a

lopsided grin, and I want to

tell him I don’t see mother

that way, despite what the mad

theorist says. There’s no need for this,

I want to say, but I cry. Aww! Don’t

cry little baby, he says, and I can see

the malice in his eyes. He’s going to

take a pair of scissors and chop

my cock off.

I’m helpless and can’t

express that I’m not here

to take his woman.

What do I do?

Where am I to go?

The fear builds up,

swirling and swirling within

me like a vortex of ash.

Please! Make it stop!

My father cackles. He’s 94

and that adds a sinister quality to

his laughter. I run and crash into

walls because my 60-year-old self

can’t handle those chuckles of terror.

He’s muttering to himself now,

sitting on his armchair.

I know he’s going to get me

when I sleep.

What am I to do?

Where am I to go?

Please! Help me!

Photo by USGS on Unsplash

7 responses to “A very Freudian poem”

    1. Lol. Yup. Too much anxiety there. 😂

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Sixty year old self🤣 He seems pretty spry. The father was terrifying though. Reminded me of Chucky.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Yup sixty 😂 And still in an early developmental stage (if such a thing exists). I didn’t think of Chucky, but I can see the resemblance now!

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Lol no. This was me, satirising the whole castration anxiety/Freudian stages thing in my own weird way. I think the whole notion of the Oedipal complex is ludicrous. But I’m sure there are people who are very Freudian in their views.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ahhhhhhh. That makes a lot of sense and I can see it.😂 You’re smart.

        Liked by 1 person

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About Me

Ordinary Person is a guy who likes to write. He writes fiction, essays, poems and other stuff.


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