I am the poet of the dark.
The red heart deep in me,
has stopped beating steadily.

Am I goddess of the dark.
who watches you, in the night.
With the look of a darkened stare,
trying to find beauty in me.

My eyes painted black,
see what they hidden in their minds
by immortal eyes, just like mine.

I am the night mist
lurking in every corner.
Gargoyles.
The cathedrals.

I wander in the dark skies,
where the eyes of crows shine.

In the dark
I will never find the light.
My wings of a dark angels.

My loneliness
devours the hours,
waiting for the day is done.
Cover of night waiting to fall on me.
where night dreams fall,
without arousing my already broken heart.

My verses written
with blood.
Runs like a warm rain.
In abandoned buildings,
where I had given myself to the darkness.

Disease left by beings,
that destroy the world.
With their impious rage>
Who are the strangers?
Or are you crazy?

Leave me alone with my sorrow, because the dead is crying
After all, someone needs to die.
Then it's me
Goddess of Darkness
Casaria.

Let me light my fire,
in the land of  dead souls
I lie down on the tombstones cold and left alone.
left by beings of old.

Let me sing dark lullaby's.
Dont come close to me.
The world is sick and twisted.
Maybe there is more healing
Someone needs to die.
Then it's me
being the dark princess.

Fear of loneliness
Forced me to wander
Through my memory
To conjure faces of long lost
Childhood friends
And once again
Feel innocent and free

Where are they now
Are they lonely
Are they also
Going back in time
To see me

Fear of loneliness
Forced me to recall
Past memories
And once again
Try to understand
Why everything seems
To be lost and gone in vain

~Natasha~

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Have you ever heard
Of the Ikinzoo Owl?
Or the Blue-Bellied,
Tozzle-Moffed Took?
Have you ever seen
Even one Pflittleflufly?
Or haven't you fancied
The look?

I doesn't take much
Just to sneak a quick peek
At that Flue-Feathered,
Bottle-Plumed, Katydid Beak.
And it won't mind it a bit,
If you take that quick look.
And will probably never remember
The look that you took.

Those Dopple-Doed Daw's
From North-Eastern, South-West,
Are as easy to find
As a Beezle-Bugs Nest.
They have no sense of direction,
They haven't yet found
If the up part is up,
Or if the up part is down.

And the Wickawhitz Thumb
From northeast Timbuktu
Does things even a
Tozzle-Moffed Took will not do!
It will shimmel its feathers.
It will pittle and twittle
Its toes and its nose
Quite a lot and a little.

It will twitchel and itch,
And pretend to count sheep.
It will scuddle its pib,
And then snore in its sleep.
It will build up a nest
Til' it's outright absurd,
And the Wickawhitz Thumb
Isn't even a bird!

Now, the odds are so odd,
And the chances so high,
You've yet to see a
Many-Eyed Itch wander by.
Many-Eyed Itches are
Quite a rare find.
To find one you'll need luck
Of the luckiest kind.

In fact, the odds are so odd,
And the chances so slim,
You'll never find more
Than a spot and a whim
Of half a half Itch
As it hides in the din
From the Monstrous You
As you come barging in.

I am not at all sure
If you've rationed a thought-
Or considered that Fuzzlenut Gnit
A whole lot, or not.
They are never a bother,
And they are always at play
A full twenty-three hours
Out of the day.

The Sap-Sucking Snizz
From the Coasts of Mahktall
Are not too hard to find.
Oh no, not at all.
They're everywhere, everyplace,
Sucking up sap,
Just before and right after
They've taken their nap.

And have you ever heard
Of a Twizzle-Toed Toff?
Who's toes twizzle so often
They cough and they cough,
Far into the morning
And then right before bed?
Hacking and hooting
Til they're red in the head?

No?
Why, I'd have guessed that
The answer was yes.
I'd have fashioned an awful big yes
As my guess.
Twizzle-Toed Toff's
Are not rare, not a bit.
All you do is look, and you'll see one
Lickety-split!

And the OggNogging Fitch,
From the Island of Soe
Who only nest in the shades
Where the Kurutta winds blow.
In places so high
They are covered in snow,
In places abandoned
So long ago.

Then have you ever heard
Of the Buggle-Nosed Snodd?
Or the Green-Eared,
Three-Headed G'Nute?
Have you ever seen but one
Popple-Topped Phfiss?
Or a Fugel-Flocked, Many-Horned,
Nevel-Winged Pflute?

Have you ever heard of
A BarBerry Duck?
It's a barmy, odd dabbler,
And with a wee bit of luck
You can find one, or three,
Near that old BarBerry Loam,
In an old box of tea
That they tend to call home.

Have you ever seen
A Greenbean Wildersnitt?
The kind with plumed feathers
And a bobble on it?
You haven't? Well, that is
A terrible shame, such a pity,
To have never seen even one
In our fair and fine city.

Have you ever heard
Of a Fuzzle-Eared Fligg?
The oddisly odd
Fuzzle-Eared Fligg from Zinnzaire?
This Fuzzle-Eared Fligg
Is the pick of the crop
If you ever plan a trip
To the way, way out there.

It seems rather selfish of me
Then to selfishly ask
If you've ever heard of
A Nozzle-Nosed Flask.
A little pest of a bird,
Should you ever find
One of those Nozzle-Nosed Flask's
Taking up all your time.

It seems hard to believe,
And I can believe quite a bit,
That you've yet to see
A Greenbean Wildersnitt.
Or a Tozzle-Moffed Took,
Or a Popple-Toffed Phfizz.
It is a little bit odd,
Yes it is. Yes, it is...

To have missed every Twozitt
That skittles the sky,
Or that Hippillopottomus Bear
That oft wanders by.
And the Pflittlefluefly that
Whispers by on the breeze,
Leaving their Pflittlefluefly-fingered nests
In all of these tree's.

And to have never seen
An Ikinzoo Owl hoot and howl,
Or a Webb-Footed
Gobbtrotter trott.
Seems you're missing much more
Than ever before,
For you've been missing
A respectable lot.

You must be walking about
With your Pog-Goggles on,
The ones that go Beep!
Whenever you yawn.
And I am ever so certain
You have yet to discover
Perhaps you!  Oh, yes, you!
Are not at all a bird lover!

Copyright © 2010 Richard D. Remler

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“From there to here, and here to there,
funny things are everywhere.”
-Dr. Seuss
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