Slithery, slider, scaly old snake,
surely your body must be a mistake.
Your eyes, mouth and tongue wisely stay on your head.
It seems that your body is all tail instead.
You gobble your dinner, you swallow it whole--
a mouse or a frog or a turtle or mole.
Ugh!
Why don't you eat ice cream or chocolate cake!
Oh slithery, slider, scaly old snake.

I like a whole lip-smacking smorgasbord of words,
such as preposterous and scrumptious,
sumptuous and curious,
roiling, rambunctious and trumpeting,
priapic, satyric and seraphic,
satyriasis and mimesis. Now this mimesis is the imitative
representation of nature and behavior in art and literature,
which is a pretentious way of trying to say what us writers do.
But hey, we don't just mimic things,
we can be sagacious and salacious, too.
Accordingly, I also like *******, which has a liquid sound,
and I'm not being facetious to suggest that
******* has a close connection to callipygous.
Then, for those who are suspicious of the libidinous,
I also like curmudgeonly and bodacious,
loquacious, precocious and pulchritudinous,
lubricious and fugacious,
scripturient, radiance, iridescence and magnificence,
lissome, lithe and languid (but not too limp),
shimmering and diaphanous, effulgent and evanescent,
flamboyant, fandango and flibbertigibbet,
(although this is difficult to say when you’re drunk),
voluptuous and vertiginous, slithery, **** and glistening.
And when I include crepuscular, strumpet and strawberry,
I may as well add whipped cream
as well, because this can be laid on in dollops,
and dollops is really an excellent word
along with slurping and *******, too.
Actually, I'm very flexible about words,
because in my lexicon, low moaning noises are OK, too.
These sounds come from the chord of creation
which is a sort of reverberation from the time of
primordial ooze, which I would like to squish between my toes.
Then there's protozoa, spermatozoa and also
wriggling flagella everywhere. So there.
But words don't even need to make sense,
because sweet nothings can say everything,
and heavy breathing can be ******,
even rhapsodic, ending in delirium.
Titillating should be in here too, because we all need
some tintinnabulation and tickling of the senses sometimes.
I've also decided that fecund is my second favorite word after love.
Fecund sounds abrupt, but it buds magnificently
in ******* and bellies to burgeon in absolute abundance,
everywhere. This brings me to *******, which I like, too.
I'm also partial to proud words, including bold, bulging and
brazen, along with a bit of swaggering braggadocio.
Then I like some big words, like brobdingnagian,
although I hope I'm not sesquipedalian.
Salivate is a word to celebrate as well,
along with onomatopoeia that helps choose some words here.
Drooling is highly evocative, too,
and it's not being provocative to observe that
even weapons drool when they're in the wrong hands.
And I shouldn't leave out *******, as you would expect,
because ****** is a sort of rippling word
that rhymes with spasm. Both sound deceptively simple,
but by golly, they can be intensely gripping.
And really, it's alright to writhe to this occasion
because all of us writers should endeavor
to have some good writhing in our oeuvre.
Even some bad writhing can be lots of fun, too.
But I almost forgot to mention yearning and burning (with desire)
and vulviform, velvet and venerous.
Yippee, yee har and hollerin' along with other exclamations
of exhortatory exuberance should be in this index, too.
Now. The words I don’t like include no, can’t, never,
stop and mustn’t. Also, irascible and intractable,
unmentionable, ineffable, inexpressible, incoherent,
immutable, impotent and impossible.
Then I don't like importune and misfortune,
and I don't know who thought up unthinkable,
because this is an oxymoron.
Inscrutable is also a complete cop out,
especially when there's no such word as scrutable.
Gawping, gaping, cavernous and cretinous, obsequious,
grovelling, pursed lips, circuitous,
obfuscation and isolation, unpalatable,
cruelty, tyranny and hypocrisy,
should also get the heave-**.
And I definitely don't like parsimonious and mendicant,
which are miserable words.
Quitting doesn't get there either,
and shut the **** up and ******* should also be taboo.
Also, hopeless is, really, well, it's hopeless
because it denies hope, and hope is buoyant and boundless.
I mean, sometimes hope is all we have.
But the word I dislike most is ****,
because this is an insulting word, and
to be taxonomical,
the negative score of this word is astronomical.
Hate is also right up there on this list. Hate is abominable
because it tries to destroy love, and love is indomitable.
Indomitable
is the
mightiest
word
of them all.
Yeah. So there.

Mike T Minehan

So young and trite is the day

Born from this new light

Creatures of the dark and mist curl and wither

Only to return by midlight

The rose afar rises and stretches

Bloodshed velvet bleeds its regal glow

Smooth tips and enticing fragrance

Dark greens, stiff and sharp as spines

Beads of water glisten and shimmer

A blood’s true jewel

Thy shadows came in thy’s slithery way

Enveloping Devil’s Beauty

Charcoal webs and silver-black imprints

Spiral and intertwine, death and blood a dangerous omen

Thy Beauty’s velvet lips decay

A cancer slow moving and fast changing

Taking over thy body in one gulp

Last, final tips of red appear before swallow

Accenting and tracing its last magnificent life

Midlight turns to midnight

Bloodlines disappear

As the wind wails through the dead

A song, chilling, unnerving to us all

There is a new fire
in my soul
           its curves  
                wrap themselves
               around me
                      sinuous
             like a hot
          slithery
sheath of flesh
snakes of pleasure
       twirling in my deepest
                         womanflow      
           pumping inside
    my veins of mesh
Those licks of flames
caress as they spew
  they **** in my spirit
        spit it out anew
                undulating hips
        matching my own
            a middle east song
                igniting my bones
        suffusing my blood
with the raw, the bare
filling me up
with sparkling lava,
                   so rare          
This combination
          makes for a recipe hot
               like a piquant ghost pepper
                  in my spiciest spot
Now let me weave words
Let me conjure your
                           liquids
let me drench colors
upon your eyelids,
my spirit's
proximity vivid
Let me drown you in
            madness
in frothiest frequencies
           of love
let this symphony play out
powers screeching above
and as this vivacity beckons
          the soul in your eyes
our stormiest spirals
       will spill out rainbow fire
           and rise
for as we grow and reach out
there is a death of limitation
              as freedom breaks out
                   in ocean-soaked
                 emancipation
Our mutual worlds
heal each other's hurts
as my tongue licks
your wounds
rejuvenation asserts
hot springs of
              lifeflow
filling up cells
sensations of textures
a ringing of bells
So
as I weave this spell
around you
            fear not that you
will disappear or
thine own self lose
for we have only to soar
as we
   coax out
        the muse

The Serpent squeezes the mundane egg, for a moment in time,
…to begin the ages, turn the wheel, and so begin the rhyme,

The circus has commenced, a dancing, swirling motion,
…a pit of ghastly horrors, seen as a vast deep ocean,
…or celestial or cosmic, as some would have the notion.

Some of them were large, although some were also small,
…and grotesquely figured or disfigured, a scary monster’s ball,
…and trudging, stampeding, stomping or slithering down the hall.

There they danced, sang or prattled, where giants fought and where they battled, …thunder unto heroes rattled, with awful screams so frightening, and terrifying lightning!

Scaly, hairy or feathered, wet and fiery or weathered,
…conjoined, twisted or tethered, slithery writhing together,

Kingu and his wife, some say it was t’was his mother,
…his plan was war and strife, pitting brother against brother,

A ******* existence and so morally depraved,
…a state of sickly persistence, they found themselves enslaved.

Then abounding voice of heaven, that divided night by day,
…brought forth a princely king of Luke; the warrior Marduk.

Fourteen engaged in combat, the one against thirteen,
…and thus aligned with the ecliptic, at night they can be seen,  

Sloshing in the Apsu, beaten with the club,
…slain and torn to pieces, cutting channels of their blood,

A north wind sent them to their places, fixed on Tiamat’s wheel,
…and the starry constellations, did Marduk bring to heel.

I love 

with a tender

and a touch

and a want

and a must

and a need

And I bleed

and I plead 

And I agreed

and I decreed

With a wish
To just get
A single kiss.

Let me inspire you to go higher:
Lost among the stars.
Our universe glitters, spread across the sky.
The world keeps turning,
Resplendent with hills and mountains,
Dales and plains.
Continents surrounded with seas and oceans
And clothed by grass and trees.

Mother Earth is blessed with flora and fauna:
Sentient beings of every shape and size,
From mighty whales and elephants,
Through furry friends like dogs and cats,
Tall giraffes, slithery snails, right down
To scattering ants and pesky flies.

Smell that fresh sea breeze,
Hear those rolling waves,
Screams of gulls
And twittering sparrows.
Feel the warm moist air
Of an Indian Summer.

Be mindful of all that is around,
Yet let imagination wonder,
For out there
There is more
So much more.

Dark Monsters of The Id
Are out there too,
We all know that.

But Life in all its splendour
And determination
Is there for all to see.
Oh to live forever with such things.

Paul Butters

© PB 16\10\2018.

In every bad-day-dream,
you have ever had.

There was always
a giant
Silver Serpent.

Staring at you.
&
Just a slithery second
away from your ******.  

That little ghost-tail.
Apparition-creature-thing.
That everyone seems to talk about?

While he is.

Slithering in through
the cracks of your mind.
&
Out of your hollowed out
graveyard heart.

I say, Astro.
Don't chu know?
Ya can't trick him.
Cause he is many years dead,
before you.

You can visit, him.

You just need a
different air-plane
to travel in.

Think about it.....

You little astral-star,
you.

Need to listen, closely.
Serpent talk
is
simply shady-speech
for
slutty-scummy-snakes.

Sculptured Abuser

I’m six years of age and you abuse my body. I’m a child with a fragile body still developing. And you know that but It doesn’t faze you at all.

I’m silly with my school friends. A child heart, Silly brain, I'm sometimes clumsy with what I do
That's just being a normal six-year-old
I’m still learning the basic facts of life, when I’m with you I’m silent and frightened. Does it ever occur to you that one day someone will capture you doing your actions?!

In my mind I would believe what you’re doing to me is the normality of being a guardian.
You know it’s not.
I don't know it's not
But in some ways, I know it's not

The fearful sculptures of you glued into my head
I shouldn’t be seeing you in that way. If I told you, you would enjoy it- if I told anyone they would think I'm making this up: stereotypical thoughts of humans- children like to make out their own stories.
I probably would need psychological help and for a child myself that shouldn't be necessary

I’m not an adult so I shouldn’t be feeling this pain and I shouldn’t be feeling you’re body onto mine.
How does that really feel?!
How does all of this really feels like?!

When I close my eyes it’s not pretty it’s not sunshine and daisies. And unicorns and rainbows. It’s YOU!
Sculptured abuser. If I had to draw a picture of you I would draw a Clown- And not one of them funny clowns either

Midnights have a way of releasing you out of you’re mental cage. Influence of an ugly smell when you're on top of me and not even that when I'm close to you I smell it, it's so dreadful when I taste you're snaked slithery tongue it startles me, makes me want to bite it so you can stop
I will never understand why you treat me like this.
I find it cruel that you even think of me in this way
A ****** predator is your name

You have no idea that this will mess up my physical image of myself and you’ll be messing up my mental mind. Physiological I'm already messed up because this has been going on for years. Abnormalities of a child's mind are playing, building happy memories and watching cartoons.
Defiantly NOT
Getting Abused by their own fathers

Clearly you don’t care!

I’m a child who should be respected not torchered in the way you do to me. Laying in this bed letting you have you’re way with me isn’t what a child should be allowing a parent to do. Isn't something a child should be fearing from

It’s tiring and exhausted that I can’t live a normal life. Especially at night time when I should be fast asleep.

How do you live with you’re self! I truly wonder.
I wonder was this your childhood life too?!
If so no wonder, you would think this is okay
Pretty messed up if you ask me.

Sculptured Abuser
Don’t pick me up from school let me have peace and quiet while travelling to and from school. These alone walks are refreshing- even in school it's safe
You take every chance you can get to be alone with me and to have your way. That's why you jump to the gun went taking me to school and not the others

Why me?!

***** Abuser you should be loving me dearly and giving me hugs to say you love me.

It’s super funny how you have no shame in what you’re doing behind close doors.
‘OH, you won’t be laughing when prisoners have their way with you’. I'll be one laughing

As you know buying me chocolates and talking to me in a creepy way it haunts my nightmares. It haunts me!

Don’t look at me with them spooky evil devil eyes.

Sculptured abuser, I want you to die!
Everypain you will be suffering it will be worth it
And there will be no hand to be searching out for no one will rescue you

You’re a natural abuser and always will be.
You’re funeral will be cold no tears
It will be lonely
This is what you deserve
The faces what you'll be seeing is the faces of the victims you abused.
In my future life to come
I always see you as my
Sculptured abuser
Not my beloved Father

My house is surrounded by
Illuminati operatives.
Lizards!  Everywhere i look...

green ones in the grass like
slithery snakes with feet,
brown ones on my porch
running counter-intelligence
on my kitties, tan little
enforcers with an ochre-red
streak of war paint along
their spines.

i know what you are thinking...
but i stopped wearing a
tinfoil hat.  It wasn't
keeping the N.S.A. out of my
emails anyway.

Just yesterday, one of the
lizards' double zero
agents followed me to McDonalds.
i saw him through the windshield,
gripping the wiper blade
with all his might, tail
whipping in the wind like a
whip antenna, broadcasting my
subversive Big Mac purchase.
i don't use Geico insurance,
therefore it was clearly an
Illuminati spy, without question.

Nowhere is safe.
My days are numbered.
They fear what i could expose,
that i would tell others
what i remember about
freedom.

Babe, there's many kindsa cravings:
the vanilla kind, where young idiots
write about how they miss his
or her touch on their skins.
or the morbid kind, where another
lot lament how they'd rather die
than not see each other.
I'll tell you of this real and adult craving:
babe, I ******* miss my manhood
feeling ron n ***** up your moist hindside.
Babe, its a crack kinda craving,
the sight of which, beneath wet garments
and better yet, when parted
revealin that silly sorry slithery
gateway to the netherheavens,
this is the kinda crack, harder than coke,
that my adult craving craves, this
craving, babe, is for the real.

~~
Lo! Large Small Stairway of Dreams
Covered with Slithery algae wearing a blue green rug
Suddenly Stood lopsided
But there is Still Speed
Wants to adopt another Shelters

Desert mirage far and near
Looking for an Oasis
Thirsty Heart wants water
Though the Scorpions wandering
In the Hot dry Sand
Of life keeps evidence

Dreams and Entity
As the Fantasy of the Cloud and Rain
However, the Truth may be Solid black
After Cleaning with Rain,
The Heart of my beloved
As the Bright Raft of Autumn Sky

Swept under the Shadows of the Evening Sun
In The Dull moon of Dream's Land
Love and Dreams mingled within a Solitary Dream
While the Fog lights lining
Elusive Emissions Of The Exhausted Heart!
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
....

Tropic and toxic
glasses full of Soviet enterprise
very expensive
blood diamonds and muddy bricks
thrown into the street
raining jujubees and tongue twisters
oh mister, let me tell you
a story
that time
it was true, I do not kid
and the knights of the feudal manor had no manners
at all
heads of tin
bellies of yummy, gummy
gruel
their disgust spread like the plague
all a mind sickness
slithery what-you-have-its
all up in their
phases of the moons,
too many to properly attest to
not very good questions,
unfair
studying never helps the potential
obscurity in life's energy
pouring through airducts
blocking chances of survival

Hello gorgeous, haven't I seen you someplace before?
Open with a line like that, you be lucky not to be shown the door.

I look ten to fifteen years younger, maybe I'm blessed
Sometimes, I put myself to the test
Once I had a boyfriend eighteen years younger than me
We lasted a year and a half.  He thought I was thirty.

And sometimes, I see him, a guy who I like
I sidle up slanted, you know, slithery ****, it's what they like

You have a drink, it's a whole different world
Your fear goes out the window, thrown away, out that door

You been here long?
You like to dance?
Doesn't matter who says it, so long as you're in a trance.

Yeah, I like that.  You're really fine.
We are both really having a good time.
You get a little closer
You can smell his alcohol breath
And in that moment, it might as well be ****
Cuz it's a kind of intoxication
In itself, just the chemistry, this temporary cohabitation

If he's young, he might be ready to go
Let's go back to my place
I know no one will know

Sometimes I did that
I never was afraid

But now, I just slither, and drink, and bathe
in the silliness of it all, these instant connections
The shape of his hand, that shy guy smile
The square jaw, with the stubble on the side
Oh yes, men, oh my
The young ones get aggressive, let you feel what they've got
You're not supposed to do that in public, do they care?  Not.

It's all so fun, so just in the "now"
Someday I'll venture out again.

Don told me
Casanova
That I was one in a million
And I scoffed, saying
                                                What's the deal with him
I liked it
The attention and
Egocentrism
Compliments that
Made me shiver
Warm when I refused 'em
Begging for more
More looks of ***** poetry
But he did not read those lines
Like me
Trembling knees
With the appearance of being weak
Those pick-up lines humorous
Slithery
Romanticism of the century
Casanova with his cheese,
Different platters, but you can't find
Me.

Piloting a rocket propelled spermatazoon
straight into the magma core of Arcturus!
And all the while our cute society
is humming a slithery little hymn
"Dip your toes and smile along
clap your hands and follow me home."
Alas my hands are golden waves
and bridge the space
where the monolith wades
Redemption plays
the poison harp
encouraging those forgotten
to never give up
the strings are dripping
and licking the ground
where flowers grow
the land is sound
there is someone at the door
always someone at the door

They dance in absence of light
These patterns of shadows
Hinting at the shapes of leaves and of stems
Movement, wind, of which we cannot glimpse
And of birds so slight of limb who take to flight

I watch the waltz, so slow and regal
Accompanied by whispering fronds
Listen to wind
In slithery sounds slips through the upper reaches
Of the tallest Texan denizens

From my shallow swing I gaze
Upon the dancing radiant pattern
And wonder in awe, in song, in rapture
How ever born was such a beauty
So simple and sweet, ever so placid
The games air and light play
The constant, subtle testimony of at work, a master.

You are the snake charmer
      mesmerizing poisonous slithery creatures
      spellbinding them with your undulating hips
      gyrating *******
      nimble graceful hands
      lulling lulling
      the predator
      into a limp drowsy posture
      until its rapid oscillations dull
      until its spitting hisses silence
      and glowing yellow eyes milk over
      you drape it over with your red garment
      it coils into infinity
      as darkness spreads.

Evil will always invite us to a feast of retaliation—that seductive chance to pay an offender back with more evil, disguised under the pretense of protecting what is rightfully ours and of defending our dignity. Reciprocated malice is what it craves most of us, as it thrives on infecting us with its slimy, slithery, leprous self. It seeks voraciously, insatiably to ensnare, enslave and devour us, for it's a hideously monstrous creature sent from deepest caverns of hell. Its predatory intent is to extinguish our light with its darkness, and if we open the door to it (even a crack) it will reach around with long, lecherous fingers to grab us by the throat and choke the life out of us with such force and speed that we won't even see it coming.

But goodness has an invitation of its own, an invitation both to us and to our offender, an invitation to drive out the infection of evil and illuminate the darkness. It invites us, when offended, into the precarious but glorious adventure of turning the other cheek. But first we must understand clearly that this turning of the cheek should never be mistaken for turning a blind eye to continual sin. It is NOT ignoring the hurt or diminishing the harm done to us so that we might spare ourselves the dreaded inconvenience of rocking the boat and disrupting our own greater interests, nor is it foolishly submitting to evil's unhindered presence around us and control over us while cowering in the face of it. It is not attempting to self-righteously shrug off that which feels to us like a serrated knife twisting in our belly or burying, beneath the layers of an ever toughening heart, the fallout from an ongoing betrayal which mocks all that is decent and sacred. It is not weakly accommodating habitual, sinful behavior in the name of peacemaking, giving up the good fight of faith in order to give in and just live with it while our soul suffocates in the meantime. It is not saying that it doesn't matter, that it's okay or no big deal. To do so (and I have surely done them all) is to deny the powerful truth of the gospel, the truth of the serious and highly offensive nature of all sin, the truth that God absolutely hates it, is greatly angered by it, calls it what it is and that He desires (and has made provision through Jesus Christ) to set sinners free from it, not simply overlook it and leave them entangled in it.

So we too ought to have a righteous anger toward the destructive nature of sin, both in ourselves and in others, seeing it as God sees it and calling it what He calls it by humbly speaking the truth in love and pointing them to Christ. And once we have removed (or are willingly, honestly engaged in the process of removing) the obvious plank(s) from our own eye (including a crouching fear of uncomfortable but necessary confrontation), we are supposed to do what we can (whenever and however the Holy Spirit leads us...that part is most essential) to help others (with mercy, meekness and wisdom from God) remove the speck from theirs. We are called to 'restore gently' (Galatians 6:1) and '****** others from the fire and save them' (Jude 23) as the Lord enables us by His sovereign and saving grace to do it, to enter fully into His kingdom work in this dark world and into the risky business of loving even our worst enemies. It is our high privilege and duty as followers of Jesus Christ and those who bear His name on this earth to participate with Him in His work of redemption. He alone can save and deliver from sin, but we are called to be some of the instruments He providentially uses in the process.

Turning the other cheek (as Jesus taught it, commanded it and lived it out) is a shrewd, deliberate and Spirit-led extending of extravagant grace and unselfish blessing to our offender, along with a daringly tactical invitation to him to show his true colors and his true intentions, whatever they may be. Exactly how this looks and plays out will vary greatly depending on the unique circumstance or relationship, and we must always rely fully on the Lord (on His word and through communion with Him in prayer, His perfect example and His prompting) to give us wisdom and creativity in carrying out our part with humility and discernment, never forgetting that we too are in want of much deliverance from our own sins and besetting habits and therefore in desperate need of others to graciously do the same for us.

We must ask and believe God for His step-by-step direction in all of these things and be willing to follow Him no matter what it might cost us, even if the price is the seemingly unbearable discovery that our offender does not and will not love us—a possibility which may feel worse to us than death. The paralyzing fear of such a devastating revelation can easily become one of our greatest stumbling blocks to giving truly wise and beneficial gifts to those who hurt us, especially if they are among those from whom we desire a particular intimacy and acceptance.

Are we willing to face even more rejection? Are we willing to set aside our own 'need' to be loved by them in order to courageously, unconditionally love them as Jesus loves them and as He loves us—with a yearning for deliverance from sin and restoration to intimacy with God that requires the laying down of oneself for the sake of the other, the spending of oneself on behalf of the spiritually captive, naked, hungry and oppressed? And if not for their sake, are we willing to do it for the sake of our own intimacy with Christ and our own soul's hunger? Are we willing to rest completely in and rely only on His perfect and never-ending love to fill us so full that it cannot help but spill over to them? Are we willing to trust that He is enough for us in all things and at all times through all situations?

However complicated the situation may be, offering the other cheek is meant to be a sacrificially loving and boldly open invitation for our offender to make a clear and definite choice between repentance or continued and greater evil. It gives him the freedom, the responsibility and the obvious opportunity to decide exactly what he will do with our 'other cheek.' Will he 'kiss' it with genuine kindness this time (as a pledge toward true restoration) or strike us once again? The choice and responsibility are his alone, but either way it will eventually expose him for what he really is and his intentions for what they actually are and, perhaps, by the mercy of God bring him to see his need and desire for true reconciliation and healing. Our part is simply to hunger for him to hunger after God and to do what we can to cunningly provoke such an appetite.

But even if that never happens, even if he chooses to remain in captivity to sin, evil will no longer have a safe place to hide in the shadows. And once it is out in the open we can look it fully in the face with our dignity intact and without backing down or shrinking from our call to always be the aroma of Christ, and we can overcome it with the power of good through the strength of Jesus and the praise of His name (even when the situation and the Spirit dictate that it is wisest to keep our mouth shut and 'not cast our pearls...'). And because of Christ's satisfying love and all-sufficient grace, we can do it again and again and again, not with reluctance and resentment but with overwhelming compassion and unexplainable peace flooding our soul, even in the midst of earth-shattering pain. We can defeat evil by our very refusal to give into it or become part of it and by our determination to rest in the Lord and His promise to defend us in His perfect time and in His perfect way. And that is the heart's ultimate 'vengeance' against evil, for surely it cries out resoundingly for it.

So rather than taking our desired revenge on the evildoer (our offender), we can take it straight out upon the evil one (the devil), upon our real enemy and on his evil schemes. One of the weapons which the Lord has given us to carry out this precise form of tactical warfare is forgiveness, and we must learn to use it regularly, skillfully and lavishly without giving way to fearful intimidation or self-serving cowardice. 'And who is equal to such a task?' Only the Spirit of Christ living in us! We are utterly dependent on Him to do it in and through us and, unless we yield to His grace and power, it will be an impossible undertaking.

Dear wounded and hurting ones, we have been issued distinct invitations to two mutually exclusive feasts, and it is time now for us to choose which one we will be attending. There is much at stake in our decision, and so we must journey to the foot of the cross to make it...

Thin Green Beer and Plastic Chinese Leprechaun Day

Saint Patrick saw a slithery snake
He killed it with (a garden rake?)

Then made the others go away
Thus Ireland is snake-free today

He blessed the land, all glowing-green
The most beautiful island ever seen

The snakes were gone, and all their hissing
But now –
                  ‘tis Ireland’s faith that’s missing

Water was everywhere
Drenching us and flooding the yard
You were stronger, both stronger
Wrapping her up in slithery rubber
Water filling her mouth
She started to drown
Only I was left
Why are we doing this?
Somehow it was fun, kids playing games on a summer day
And yet it was more than that
As I was wrapped up and knocked to the ground I reached high, pulling myself up
Although blinded I wouldn't give up
I said I never give up
If nothing else at least I'm determined

Slithery serpent
He did sneak up to my ear
Questioning my worth
That i had held so dear

His secret servants
Up close and near
Whispered for my soul
"Oh look what we have here"

A sweet, sweet kiss
Death's gift to me
He nudged my shoulder
Promising everything he could bring

We fought long and hard
I thought hard and long

When i wasn't thinking
He used this against me
Catching me off guard

All those years i ceased to slit my throat
Death was waiting to tip my boat

An angel on Earth caught me though
Before i went into the light
My mother held my soul

Every single day
I walk these
City streets
I'm surrounded by demons
Dressed in overpriced suits
Or raggedly clothes
See they don't confuse me
I see what they don't see
But I don't judge
I just let them walk on by
I don't budge
Than they get to talking
With their slithery tongues
These the people that got Jerry Sprung
The same ones that got old Willie hung
Same ones that had all the Jews in a ditch
Same ones that nailed Christ to the cross
Now ain't that a *****
See the devil is a liar
And everyone soul is for hire
So even if you don't
I see these demons hiding
In normal day attire
I don't need to see
The mark of the beast
I look in the mirror
And I see me
Yet I also see
The man I'm afraid to be...

I came upon a snake in the road,
A snake in the sun, in the road
on the road.

Coiled and slithery he hissed and
flicked the snake in the road
in the road, in the road.

I fossilized in fear and was stuck
so stuck was I at the sun soaked
snake in the road, in the road.

When from a deepening well and a
light so bright I challenged the snake
in the road, in the road, in the
road.

With Flashing fangs, he bit me, the
******* bit me the snake in the road,
in the road, in the road.

So I seized him and swung him,
thumped him and spun him.
Then bit off his **** head the
snake in the road, in the road
is no more.

We'll see about me.

Sneeeky snek
Out for mous
Sneeky snek
In le hous
He slithery slither
And then he starts wither
Into dust
"I don't feel so good, Mr. Stark"
whoosh

I wish I could flip a switch & revert back to childhood.
So free spirited,
Attaining pure joy from the simplest of things.
The world hasn't been tainted by its evil truths,
Slimey slithery bugs being flung in your hair were the worst of your troubles.
Content with your imagination,
Everyday filled to the brim with magical forest creatures.
When did our curtain of innocence get lifted,
The older we get the more hostile and brittle the world becomes.
I dont want to be in a world where we dont get to hear the children play.

And the jejune...just like that
it leaves my life.
And the mundane of it all?
The looking of both ways and crossing,
The tieing of shoelaces...
the washing of hands.
And the dullness of it all suddenly shines like a sharpened knife
on a darkened shelf
in a forgotten home
That is now just a house.
Glistens like that. Out of place and unexpected.
And all of the sudden
the sun lifts her goddess body
stretching forth her sinewy limbs,
just for me ...playfully fondles my skin with heat.
Undeserving, inconsiderate me.
And without any predisposition
the ocean dredges the finest, tiniest grains of sand
for me,
          for me.
Vain.
Reckless me.
Turns over an hourglass glistening with his diamond dust
and just like that...
And I am grateful, yes I am humbled.
And I will clutch it, I will seize it.
I will patronize, I will hoard.
And I will covet it, herald. Proclaim.
And I will know that time? Seconds hands, he stroke me now. Hours wind around my wrist and bind my eyes with red slithery silken sashes-
And Love? Fickle stroke of her pen and just like that
I am chosen.
Moved from the side of the street where a damp mold covers the crumbling bricks...
and the people I pass, they look up at me now
nodding with a secret knowing. Because
we are chosen for this love, We are the elite. Plucked from the remaining pugilists.
And just like that he loves me.
Just like that it swallows me whole
...And just like that, love.

Sahn 7/2/2014

There is no ancient living here
No holy
Just the only
Sparking flies of fire twinkling against twilight
I breathe in the exhaled breath of late spring
Feeling full but light all in the same motion
New moon cast no shadow here but I can still see her's
Outlined by star shine the gravitational pull of the divine
That lies within us all
The rains keep falling so that the air is tangible
A dancing partner when I thought I was alone
Feet fall in squishy patterns against grass that should still be forest
I hear their call, the wildlings
Wolf howl. Dove Coo. The slithery slither of night time creatures.
Spinning in circles through the darkness
Wishing I could but take their form for a moment and run free
Break apart from the day to day pressure
Of what is expected of me
Focus on the fire fly dance
Just keep spinning

And he is the
Monster under your bed
But when you turn the lights on
He isn't afraid
He mocks you and your fear
With his bitter smile
And sour breath
He wears a silky garment
And his blak hair is slicked back
He is conniving and he is silent
But his presence
Is what scares the children at night
He is the one who plants fear
Inside their minds
And he is the one
Who plants fear into your mind
He is slithery and watery
With no form
And no way to catch him
He is Evil itself.