http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-17/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-ii/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-iii/
(best read in order)

He blankets her with a mist that is fine and as pure as his postpartum soul is able to manifest. He’s sorry that she is sobbing on the dirt floor. He can’t think past the hunger that is beating upon her, which beats upon him. He is angry that his ancient predatory instincts are gaping to the fore.

   For the ancient being now gently weeping on a cold dirt floor.

Why did he not recognize her? How did he get so lax in the thinking that cattle could disguise it self?  A Wolf in Sheep’s clothing? Well... it’s not like he has not donned the same costume!

   He had been a Protector for so long. Rising each Sunset with the challenges that bring on the most predatory beasts that hunger for pain. He, alone, has stood beside Humanity to bring the world a semblance of normality, morality, a passing moment when they thought they were King of the world… but their inflated egos were never touched by doubt.
Because of him.

But she brings him down to the basest level.

   He feels…
    For her
     For her hunger
      For her emptiness
       For her utter contemptuousness


   She is the creature that he has been birthed to fight. The utter savageness that she brings forth when it becomes night.

He alone, in eternity, wanders the earth to make Mortal life the one thing that is right.

   She lifts her head from the cold dirt floor to stare at him. He materializes as a persona that should scare her, one that heralds Death, but his emotions are fraught with peril. She is important to him. He may have been birthed to bring Death but he was never denied that one could become his Life.

His pulse quickens, her eyes widen, her pulse quickens, he is afraid of the sight that lays bare in front of him. His fangs are buried deep in his bottom lip, he can not say a word even if his immortal soul depends on it.

   She licks her lips in hesitation, maybe anticipation; she could be licking her lips because of the small droplet of blood that lingers in the corner of her mouth. He wants to touch his tongue to said lips and cheek and ear and throat and, well HELL, he’s happy to continue south… as long as his tongue is touching skin…

   She looks away, briefly, and cries again. She is unable to fight past her hunger even though she has recognized the Protector.

She needs protecting too!

She’s so hungry!

But from the swelling of his body, *so is he…

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-17/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-ii/
(best read in order)

The stone walls are closing in on me and I’m hungry

   So hungry

   I’m on my knees begging silently to let my anguish end. I could have made it good. I wanted the pleasure more than the means to the end. I just needed a taste to know that I was alive once again but I’m left trapped. The walls closing in on me are a testament that I can never escape my existence. Even my fantasies are not enough.

  So hungry!

  How did I get back here? Inside my prison?  Inside my own destiny? I am stronger than the person I was so many, many years ago but weaker than I want to be. I rose above the hand that life dealt to me and I have been a major player in history but I can’t rise above the fact that I’m left weeping inside my stone prison and I’m alone, again, and hungry.

   Where did things go wrong?

   The dark alley that I found you in was perfect. You were as alone, as lonely as me. But I didn’t want to make you feel less than special than you were to me. The restaurant, the candles, the sense of intimacy… It was all perfect. My imagination was at an all time high. I sensed your urgency.

  I projected images as arousing as I could make them.  I lived inside my own fantasies and I wanted you to want me as I wanted you. And I wanted you so desperately. Our dalliance was more than a mere moment. You were special to me. Not everything I projected was from my own mind. I felt your acceptance. Your willingness to indulge… Your complete and utter resolve to be what I wanted you to be.

   But now you’re gone. Seemingly crumpled to dust. Escaping from me just like every other thing that I held dear.

   You were not a figment of my imagination, even though everything around us was, but you didn’t stay and now I’m the one that will pay. I chose wrong. I understand that now. I’m sorry but please understand… I’m so hungry.

   I curl upon the dirt floor to contemplate my mistake. The tears from my eyes are from frustration and anger and maybe just a little self indulgence that I can’t hold onto the fantasy. I breathed upon warm skin but I'm left with the bitter taste of myself upon my lips. It's the taste of me that leaves me bereft.

   The mist that settles upon me like a blanket and hugs me in a gentle caress is more comfort than I can take. I don't remember much but I remember one thing...

   *I’m so hungry

If I could just take it
and roll it into a little ball
and punt it in it's nether regions
I think I could actually find
something to like about the season

I don't want to see the big fat *******
all in Red, touching, smiling at my kids
I don't want to hear Christmas Carols
that never, ever, seem to leave my head

If the Christmas fairy
doesn't stay out of my sherry
I'm going to choke the *****
with the Christmas lights wires!

It's bad enough that she
puked all over the tree
Her decorating skills
leave a lot to be desired.

Why?
Why?
So much torture!
Misery is just buried
underneath a pile of
brightly coloured tinsel

Happiness seems to be manufactured
straight out of the world
of HALLMARK...
Instant joy!
It almost seems so simple!

All the baking, sweating, storing of food
in Tupperware that have mysteriously lost their lids

All the cheap items I lost on EBAY
to last minute sneaky bids

But for one tiny smile, from a child...

**I do it for my kids

Big Mistake* can even barely describe how I let you goad me into coming back to your hovel and how you had to clear a path to your bedroom door all the while giving me such a goofy grin. Unfortunately (for me) your flat mate was passed out naked on the sofa with an empty long neck between their legs, snoring a sonata that would have made Frank Sinatra proud, I don't know how to describe the incredible feelings of vile that I experienced. Where do I begin?

I was so pleased to see the mattress on the floor in the corner of your bedroom that I just literally wet myself (don't mistake that for desire) and as you gently lowered me to the floor (honestly, who lives without bed frames) and I felt something crawl across my foot I fervently wished that we were higher. The drugs I took in the club are starting to wear off and I'm even more exacting sober (I wish I hadn't tucked into my handbag an extra pair of ******* and packed some antibacterial wash to take away what would be left over)

"Wait" I cried as your arms seemed to grow 3 extra hands and you tried so hard to get me even more naked than the day I was born. "Protection? Do you have it" and as you looked at me like I was an alien and an extra head I had just spawned, you went out the door on a prophylactic journey that I was sure (looking at your house mate) would last almost till the dawn.

I took the time to glance though your extensive collection of ******* that you didn't seem to feel that you needed to hide and took a chance of learning a thing or two, that you may like, and stacked them in a neat pile to the side. The sheets that floated on your love bed were just a little to crusty for my taste. I don't really want to lay on top of every other lover that you've had in the last year and quickly removed them with some haste (the mattress underneath was another matter) by then I'm starting to think that we should move to the couch and invite naked Mr Longneck to the party just so I don't have to lay down on something so crusty that at the slightest touch would probably shatter.

sigh I'm here now I say to myself 'Take a bow, you've certainly outdone yourself by raising the stakes so high that even a snake crawling on their belly couldn't miss' so I try to make the most of it and remove my shirt (leaving the bra... it's an imagination thing) and try to arrange myself seductively on my coat I laid on the mattress and await for the first heated kiss

You loom in the doorway with a smile that promises that the hunt was a success and lope towards me with a gait of a predator that is ready to eat a succulent meal that your not prepared to undress. One hand reaches out to skim the lace of my bra as your eyes scoot toward the organized pile of magazines in the corner and you spy Miss July on top from afar and in an instant in between a muted groan and a world that is rocked and only occupied by you alone, with just a ***** and one peep I'm left gobsmacked and your fast asleep!

Yes, I left a phone number,
No, it wasn't mine.
Please by all means, use it but try not to tie up LifeLine!
Jan 22

There it was just sitting
in the middle of the street
all black and white
waiting
for traveling feet

Herds of milling bipeds
traversed across it
as it stretched across
a sweltering pit of tar

While masses of
Auto.. mo.. biles
broke it’s back
wait
I think...
they call them...
Cars?

I just stood back

Watching

Waiting

Wondering

just contemplating

But still…
I was at a complete loss

I keep a vigil at the curb
waiting
for the zebra to come
and wondering…

*how do they know where to cross?

I’ve turned the other cheek
To endure the slap in the face
I’ve been there and done that
Some things time can not erase
Walk a mile in my shoes
Ha! You would never endure
Maybe stop to smell the roses
But nothing will remain pure
This old dog knows new tricks
So throw me a freakin’ bone
Jesus came? Good for him!
But I still walk alone
I’ll take off my rose colored glasses
Before my drinks are mixed
I don't think that I am broken
Why should I bother to be fixed
I have licked my wounds
I can now live and let live
But what makes me forget
Is why I should forgive
I’ve paid my dues
I’ve made the bed
I now lay upon
I have now come
To the end of the line
But I think this
Is my swan song
I’ll bury my head in the sand
Ignorance is such bliss
You can give with one hand
And take with the other

*But You Can’t Touch This!

Graceful in the face of defeat
Stoic in the face of pain
Unashamed in the face of Pride
An umbrella against the pounding rain

A willow tree bending, unrelenting
bowing in the face of rage
A feather floating in the breeze
to softly touch the face of age

Her touch can soothe battle fever
Her look can hold back the tide
Her voice can sing in triumph or
softly hum as she attempts to hide

She sits alone on a hill of clover
and finds four leaves with every glance
She sits at the bottom until it is over
and takes odds against every chance

Her babies are the reason she breathes
Her man is the reason she would die
For her there is no in between
Without either she has no reason to try

First Date: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-17/ (best read in order)

It was so cold inside the cave

   So cold!

   He didn’t understand when the restaurant faded and the stone walls rose around him that he was trapped. He was suddenly the prey and he didn’t like it. Not at all, but he was happy to see where the fantasy would take him. He could only hope and prey?

   He silently smirks at his own private joke before he remembers where he is and briefly contemplates where he was before he came here.

   He was sitting across from the most beautiful women he has ever seen. Her bare shoulders were like silk beneath his subtly brushing fingertips and he knew instinctively by her indrawn breath as he ran his hand up her bared leg that he was the luckiest man alive. He seated himself across from her and simply stared into her eyes.

   He sees in her eyes all her fantasies.

   He is a demon from the dark. He is fire and brimstone. All encompassing as all the sins of the flesh, burning her, setting her on fire, a raging inferno that can not be sated with just a few drops of sweat upon her brow.

   Hmmm… I like this he thinks as he sips the ice cold water that has suddenly appeared in front of him, but for now he’s thirsty it seems.

   The flames from a hundred or more candles flicker in her dark eyes as the scene changes and becomes a darker conflagration of her dreams.

   This is getting more interesting he ponders her stare as he lifts his hand to stroke the satin skin of her knuckles across his lips

   Now he is a wolf. A creature of the night. She has seen beyond his façade and she’s running. Triggering his hunting instinct. He can only chase her. There is nothing else for him to do. He must claim the other half of himself that calls to his predatory nature. He is ready to claim his mate and he’ll take her like the wild animal that he is!

   Yes!

   He’s seen that all in her eyes, until the millions of candles fade to just a small torch and the walls that clutched at them with intimacy are now just coarse stone and the illusion is lost.

   As she bends toward his neck, with sharp fangs, seeking her solace, he dissolves into mist. She screeches as her wickedly sharp teeth pierce her bottom lip with a sharp bite and instantly realizes she has lost her prey.

   He laughs eerily.

   Then, as the scent of her ancient blood rises to tease his more ancient nostrils and he subtly inhales with his soul, he sees that things are more complicated than he could ever hope they would never be...

   *He howls

It’s a lovely restaurant.

   Lovely.

   There is no artificial lighting. Just hundreds of candles that flicker from recessed niches in the walls and on every table.

   And you’ve done everything right so far. From seating me in my chair, with the slight brush of your knuckles across my bare shoulders as you removed my light jacket, to taking my purse from my bloodless fingers to place it next to my feet, you have excelled. As you knelt beside me and ran your fingertips up my bare leg you lift your perfect lips into a melting smile that promises everything.

   I want everything

   And there you are, sitting across from me. So perfect, my dream, my nightmare, my man of the hour, my choice. The candle light is kind to you and as I stare over the glass rim of a red wine I’m enthralled by your voice. I don’t know what you're saying but you just have to keep talking and I’ll just keep redrawing you in the candlelight.

   You have utterly, beguilingly captured me.

   The candle on the table has lit a fire in your eyes. I imagine the fires of Hell burn there and shiver at the thought of all that wickedness. The way you ran your fingers through your hair has tricked me into thinking that two small (very ****) horns protrude from your head. It’s an illusion, but one that I’m happy to run with.

   As you pick up my hand and feather kisses along my fingertips I feel the brush of the stubble on your face which I’m sure wasn’t there when we walked hand in hand to our table but the ****** hair is unmistakable. Is it possible I’m here with a Lycanthrope? Will our evening end with me running bare foot through the woods while a howl scrapes delicious shivers down my spine? Will I fall to my knees, a victim of the beast as it stalks me, scenting the wind, marking it’s prey, spying me and leaping to devour me? One glance at the full moon suggests I might be in for a wild night.

   In the candlelight you morph into all of my fantasies. But now, I’m just hungry.

   The illusion is just too hard to hold. I haven’t eaten since my last foray into the mortal world and I’m too tired to hold onto the hope that I can make it past reality.

   The restaurant drops away. The candles burn down to one lowly guttering torch and you're just a little boy (next to my 712 years) standing in a cave, where I have lured you and you're more than aware that you're not desert, you’re the main meal and the adrenaline coursing through your beautiful veins have my fangs dropping and my eyes smoldering but don’t worry, I can make it pleasurable, if I want to, it depends whether my fantasies have been strong enough, but I will respect you…

   Of course!

before you start reading, please not that the Barbie in this poem is not the registered trademark that is the Barbie doll (all is revealed in the notes)*

When Barbie wakes up in the morning
Even the birds stop chirping in fright
She makes her way to the wardrobe knowing
What is inside will start the day right

First to be donned is her barbarian bra
It takes quite a task to fill
She really is ever so grateful for her bra
It keeps all the best bits subdued and still

The bras must always go on first
Without it she would be in trouble
If the briefs went on first without the bra
To this day she’d still be bent over double

Next on are the bountiful bootylicious briefs
She worries that they may have shrunk
Mayhap she should stop putting them in the dryer
They are essential to keep all her junk in her trunk

Over the top of the barbarian bra
Goes a sweater with the deepest V neck you’ll find
The cleavage that is on display is important
It keeps the focus from straying to her behind

On go the boots and laced up tight
These babies were made for walking
But most days they are just for comfort
Unless she’s up for some stalking

Last of all on her perfectly coiffed head
She settles her beautiful hat
It looks a little like a large table umbrella
In fact, once upon a time, it was actually that!

She’s now ready to start her day
And the birds resume chirping like a choir
Barbie is ready to face the world dressed in her
Barbarian Bra and Bountiful Bootylicious Briefs and
Other Amazing Attire

Tasting like a new spring day
So soft and moist with dew
A small lift, a tilting smile
Promises all dreams do come true
One small sip is never enough
One soft word demands one more
One light kiss from your whispering lips
Is to drift away from shore
Sometimes the mask will crack
I see what there is to hide
Your whispering lips are still so soft
Gentle words still lilt on the tide
But there is now a bitter after taste
From your softly whispering lips
Demanding words are spoken
Poison glinting on their tips
I willingly kept drinking your words
Poison flowing through my veins
Such ghastly death I might of deserved
Where your words are all that remain
The ultimate shocking betrayal
That also became my demise
Did not spill for your whispering lips
But bled from your lying eyes.

You
Lipstick on his collar

Me*
Bruises on my breast

I don't own many dresses
or pairs of shoes
Just a few special dresses
that make me look pretty
and a pair or two, of shoes
sandals for summer
sneakers in Winter
ten times the amount
I could have spent
was spent on you

I troll around a second hand store
because I think I'm unique
because extra funds bring you hope
denying things are bleak

Food on the table
a roof over your head
the latest Xbox game
cable Internet
my birthday laptop
you're insulting me on
Foxtel
112 Channels
While you sit
under a feather blanket
as others in the world
have yet to be fed
Breakfast, Lunch or Dinner

What's that you said?

You don't care what I think?
I don't know what it's like?
I'm destroying  your sense
of adventure?

Why don't you twist the knife?

Disrespected for my opinion
when you're green as new grass
Freedom most certainly is a right
but as all rights, it is earned
don't take what is not asked

I lost a most precious gift
because I could not comprehend
the lessons I was trying to teach
were so hard to defend

I'm not asking you to obey me
because I absolute rule your domain
I'm begging you to heed my wisdom

I have a right to remain

The absolute authority
on Life, an expert on how it unfolds
My body agrees by the strecthmarks
it holds,
My heart agrees in its tightness
to the breath it exhales
My soul exalts in its freedom
to breath trueness to its tales

I'm not just wanting to be a parent
I'm wanting to be a voice
a monument to mistakes made
a whisper of choice
A landmark in uncertain territory
a safe haven in a storm

If you defy Wisdom
from absolute tragedy
I become a useless memory

and I'm nothing but a receptacle
for you teenage angst

I'm am nothing

I am the norm

not so
without sound
there is a heartbeat
a gentle sniff
a scream
a hauntingly beautiful
song
a voice carrying
a burden
a body bent
standing strong
an unhappy heart
that bleeds
upon paradise
rearranging
circumstance
to justifiably
and painfully
try to arguably
lay down beside
What Is Wrong

We tend to lick our wounds
in the quiet of the night
when we think others
are sleeping
We stay awake
to protect them
from our own fright

We sit beneath one sided glass
so we can't see our own
reflection
and pretend we care so deep
as we are buried
beneath our defection

In the quiet
without the light
shining on our
imperfection
Gold and Silver
have no worth
as dull as Copper
and Nickel
ten times less
Precious
infinitely more
worth
than the babble of
the day to day
that's infects my ears
In the quiet
of the night
your precious voice
rises
The only song
my heart hears

for it was never my intention
to be a puppet with a frown
perhaps you won't believe it
sitting under a liars crown

I've cut myself for long enough
that blood is my middle name
basking naked upon a concrete slab
I've oft been fed back my own shame

so take all these letters, mix them up
juggle them gaily to become verbose
for they have fallen,  at feet
that have stopped walking
just litter, ash, carrion at most

So kiss me on lips
coated in poison

and wish me well

For I am off to a more acrid clime
where secrets will often tell
that hiding behind a wordsmiths spine
will see me burn in hell

is it worth tears?
pain aside, the first time
who didn't cry?

The hill so steep
gasping breath
collapsing mid step
the hill
a mound
without a sound
the stream is crossed
no more than a trickle
of tears
after so many
years
You climbed
a mountain
I tripped
into a puddle
tears are covert
mis stepped
to an uneven beat
angry limbs
form a defensive
huddle
tears warm
cold places
falling from eyes
blurred
that watch you
sleep

Dream My Sweet

as I drown

I found a dollar
I picked it up
at lunch
at the Pub
I feed it to the
Pokie Machines
(I never use my own money)

I won another dollar

So I kept pressing
the flashing button
Not understanding
the symbols falling
as it added
more and more
dollars to the ***

After a while
it had reached ten dollars

(to me that's a lot)

Hit Collect
Listen to gold hit tin
scooped them up
cashed them in

Dropped them
into my handbag
Only nine coins tinkled
one had made

it's own escape

Looked back at Goliath
a little old lady
had paused
Bent lower (than ever)
plucked at sticky carpet
came up with one dollar
I smiled
because
it was
the dollar
I picked up
Salute to old Lady
$100 now in her pocket

Both our days made

Better by a dollar ;)

Why can't I be as pretty as the little girl
that sits next to me at work, she seems
all long legs and golden skin,
20 long years younger
thin body poured into size 6 jeans

Why can't I be pretty like that?

I wish I was as pretty on the beach
next to the bikini clad lovelies
all long haired and impressive assets
Why can't I be like that?

I wish I was as pretty as my friend
sitting next to her on a barstool
crowded away from her, male backs
facing me, surrounding her, I'm a fool!

I wish I was pretty
or even attractive
or even winsome
or cute
or

or

or

I wish, I wish
Oh, how I wish
I could be an entree
even if I'm not
the main dish

or

or

The fish
caught on the hook
an acceptable catch
not to have the hook
ripped from my flesh
just to be thrown back

I wish I was pretty
I'm positive I was one day
Someone loved me once
and my children say

Mummy, you look so pretty
when I decide to make an effort
but no matter how hard I look
in the mirror
I just can't make their words fit!

I wish I was pretty
a beautiful disguise
I wish I was pretty
in my eyes

twisted tines of silken thread
turn truistic vines of dread
into total truisms that fed
on tectonic overtures

turnstiles of treacle thin
ties, that tickle skin
and whisper tactile lies
turn tiny faces to taciturn skies

Tiptoe across a threadbare rug
tiny traces kiss treads remembrance

Touching histories of true memories
Tugging threads tight in a trance

down the hallway
where destiny led
inside a room
where inhibitions shed
white miracles bled
I’ll lay my head
to dream beneath
a non de plume
I’m not me, are you?

riotous beauty will bloom
where it is aptly
coveted
smell the sweet perfume
told our sweet, sensual song
will long be often
coveted,
down the hallway
where destiny led

But this is reality.

What I am thinking, believing,
She, I,
cannot speak to you...it is that

On the edge of Saturn,
watching 3 moons
sink and burn
drowning sorrows
in a intergalactic tavern.

I just can't find
the energy to believe,
so I keep asking,
who is inside my body?
not you, not him,
who is me inside of me?

On the edge of me,
is not the endless roses or
the fact they seem
to placate themselves in repose.

It is not even the field
of riotous color
that undulates endlessly,
what I was led
to believe.

Not even the heady scent
that has slowed my feet,
can compete
with what I believed,
and what now,
no longer do...

I hate digital alarm clocks.

The eerie way they light a room in the deep of night and that silent way they have of counting down the hours of life left.

It just leaves me exhausted!

At 12.47am I woke to a flickering red haze across my bedroom ceiling that seemed to spread like a stain down the walls to pool on the floor.
Now, I know I should not be reading Amityville Horror in bed, on a full stomach and I’m pretty sure that the block of chocolate that I snacked on while reading may have upped the ante in the endorphin stakes but combined with that evil digital alarm clock I was wide awake at 12.47am and the curtains at the open window were flickering across the harsh red numbers.

The oddest scene was playing around me, like a bad play where all the actors rolled around in a vat of blood before they stepped up.

Kratos and Ares, in full battle regalia where crossing swords with a ferocity of a westerly wind fleeing from Zephyrus himself. The clang of steel was loud in my head and beat a pulse behind my eyes that watched them move around the end of the bed and along the wall along side of me.

The breeze slithering through the trees and through my open window bought whispered entreaties to my ears…

“She mine Ares! I saw her first, I will have her. She is my Yin! I will possess my other half!”

Clang, clang, grunt, clang

“Kratos, you do not know me well to think that I will not fight for the one that can stand with the God of War! I will have her”

Clang, ******, parry, clang

Now, this is where I got really confused.

I was starting to think that the red haze fluttering around the room was from my bleeding eyes because it was now 4.27am and more than 3 hours of my life were gone.

How was I supposed to get that back?

I was idyllically pondering what a Yin was while being gobsmacked by the fact that I was actually the other half of something. But being the other half of Strength?

What does that make me?

Weakness?

What would my Greek name be?

Profligatus?

But that didn’t concern me more than what Ares wanted with me? How strong did he think I was? Sure, I’m a bit prickly at times but for the God of War to focus on me? ****, and I thought I had curbed my enthusiastic condemnation of humanity… Obviously I had not!

But who am I kidding! It was really very nice to have them fighting over me. I’m not really sure who drew first blood (because of the ****** evil digital alarm clock glow) but I’m sure I would have swooned into whomevers arms reached down to claim me had it not been for the sound of the evacuation alarm.

ER ER ER ER ER ER ER ER*

****, ****, ****, the sun has crept over the horizon and has lightened the darkened theater that is my bedroom and it’s the alarm clock that is shrieking a warning that it’s time to start a new day.

****! I’m not ready for this. I’m tired, I want more dreaming, or awakening, or whatever the hell that was!

Most of all I want to know…

What did it all mean?

I said

Come on! It's time to go to bed. Let us not be wandering through the internet right now listening to 80's songs that seemed right, oh say, 20 years ago. We can't be doing this! I'm tired, take me to bed, put me to rest!

then
I said

*******! Get the **** outta my head! Why do you bother me with your prissy little frilly consciousness then berate me with sleeplessness when I try to accommodate your whiny **** and actually go to bed! You torment me with images of that would be dead to me if you just let me load myself up but, no! You insist that I get myself up... and go... to bed... I'd rather sleep when I'm dead!

then
I said

Well what's the point of hanging around inside brain dead cyberspace keeping me thinking that I'm never going to keep up the pace and while your kissing PaULO4FuN do you stop to think that perhaps I may be done? Do you not feel that burning behind your eyes? The impaired vision is my doing! I'm trying to hinder you by disguise.... Come On!!!! I'm tired.....

so
I said

Really? Is that you doing that? Then why the HELL do I pay $12 per bottle of wine which I consume by the vat? And if you're so almighty as to be able to provide such a welcoming buzz why do you feel the need to hammer me while I'm trying to drift, cocooned, in a nice warm fuzz?

sigh
I said

Please, believe me, I say this with all honesty, your nothing but a drunken piece of lint that would not like to be picked out of a belly button on a good day but you're all I've got, and until you pass out I continue to see the rest of the world as just one great big inkblot... Go to ******* bed... for the love of Satan.... Please!

I said

I'm going already. Keep your shirt on

I said

Good! but I'll believe it when your gone

I said

Nasty *****, I better sleep well tonight

I said*

Drunken cow... if you make it to bed, I'll make it right

*I can only trust me...

It was just three tiny words
that wreaked havoc such as
time immemorial seemed to have forgot
Innocuously sitting inside a dictionary
You pusillanimous pile of infected snot

There is no tampering with a raging universe
while trying to coerce a slippery fish
into a cage, such as a raging comet
But I was caught upon your fishing hook
You gelatinous mass of shark infested whale *****

Oh, I know, I wriggled a bit, I flipped
I flopped, but I was just kissing the hook
But you knew
You knew!
You heaving bucket of roadkill stew

Just three words!

You could have flung them at me
as you walked on down the road
You string of demon spittle
hacked upon the ground
then licked up by a toad

I’m going out...

Well, my friend
Not the three words I was looking for
Those words just soured on your breath
like rancid three day old meat
caught in teeth that are already bad

I KNOW WHERE SHE LIVES
(I whispered)

Then, I got really mad…
Jan 5

It's a matter of choice
as I pick through the basket
Alluring, ****, Servicable
Barely there, You Asked For It

My choice

As my fingers pluck at Silk
and Satin and Lace
I can imagine your face

In the shower scents arise
Chosen gels floral a surprise
I've picked an outcome
as scented by my skin
I'm hoping to be outdone
by the choice of fabric

One small scrap of fabric
stands between
Begin
and
End

I am Ruby Red eyes
peering into the window
of your soul

I am the creepy scratching
that the leafless tree
is tapping upon the glass
in the night
My smile is a gaping maw
begging to swallow you whole

I am the heart of your fear
that you cut into pieces
and dined on in elegance

I am your surprise package

Yours to unfold

Hidden in the deepest layers
of tissue and delicate lace
Is everything you wished for
and nothing you wish to face

I am something/nothing/exactly
like you
I've danced along treetops
only to fall  into a pit
scrabbled sideways
into a hole I couldn't fit

I've cursed the day I was born
and I curse the day I will die
because mortality has robbed me
of the voice that could make me

Fly

Fly my precious
Seek surcease in the arms
of those that would only
want to hold your light
higher than your heart
Desist of your sadness
it beats like poison in veins
Madness is just a beginning
Bleeding from a subconscious
will be just a start

Spit out the remains of bone
that are caught in your teeth
Only the marrow of Heart and Soul
will feed you in your grief

I’ll never love another* he inanely thinks as he flips through 112 channels with a remote that hardly ever leaves his hand and even though each and every program he lands on is a repeat (he never blinks) but he can lose himself inside a world of surreal and not try to face a world that is real. Please he pleads to the TV Just give a something, anything, to be make me free. Show me a world where I can be me He sighs as she walks into the room and sits down next to him and looks like she needs to say something but he doesn’t want her to begin…

I’ll never love another she tearfully thinks as she slips into the room and stands inside the doorway, quietly, watching her beautiful groom, flipping channels almost angrily, like he doesn’t care to watch what’s going on but is searching for frivolity. She sits down next to him and gives him a smile that is much too grim and slips her small delicate hand into his to grasp the remote control and slowly take it away from him so she can turn off the TV and make him face what is in her soul, she needs him to see the ultimate goal. She gently places the remote next to the empty cereal bowl.

Please don’t say it, please don’t please…. Don’t... He is reciting his litany that has been his personal prayer, his own mantra, over and over again because, ever since the cancer, she’s been distant and he doesn’t know how to close the gap. How can you ever get over a life that is cut short? What do you say? Why can’t people look at it differently? How come only one that is loved becomes “That poor sap” What’s up with that? She doesn’t know what he knows. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to hear what she has to say before she goes.

She’s sitting there silently; he’s holding his breath indefinitely. She looks him in the eye with a tear on her cheek, he feels it is now his turn to speak….

Rabbits! He bursts out loud
And she absently rubs her hand across her bald head
Yes she says, mostly embarrassed
I had them tattoo them on to my head
so from afar they look like hares instead…
I’m just so sick of not seeing the fun side of life

He fully sees what it has taken for her to come forward but there is no comforting her when he is stricken with his own strife. It’s time for him to go, she needs someone stronger. Someone who will comfort her in the hours that she needs and can give her some sort of life. She’s thinking that it is time to unburden the only person that ever understood why she chose to live and why it would be inevitable that she very quickly die and if he was anyone else she would not have gone to such lengths to make them understand but she always knew that he would want to know why.

How can she explain to him that no matter how much longer they had left together that it may be short, it may be long but time is irrelevant to a soul mate. It’s as easy for him to explain that there is a perfect reason to try to hide the pain but it seems almost impossible to escape even though there is a reason for haste.

One lets the other go to spare one another, such a waste...

Jan 25

Across all space and time
Left in silent suspension
From dawning age to endless night
And a never ending comprehension

Wrapped around entire emotions
Holding all in a soft embrace
There is no day there is no night
An entire life in a blank space

The smoldering look, the tiny smile
The gentle sigh upon the breeze
The lingering touch, a strong hand
That holds the world at ease

The yearning for a day in the past
To right all that should not be lost
It tightens to bind and remind, it is
A line that could not be crossed

A shield from the crushing weight
Of a pain that can not be shared
A safe haven in a stormy sea
A cocoon for the ill prepared

Of a burning love, or a missing life
Of a gentle word from a perfect friend
Of a millennium of worth that also found
Where it does begin, it shall also end

Seems to me like the Grim Reaper would have some sense of humour... Just look at his job description....

   He was staring at the fire with a horrified expression on his face.

   I quickly hid the stick with the marshmallow squished to the end of it behind my back. I frowned slightly at the look on his face and shook my head, thinking 'Nah, he’s not ready for that kind of humor' and I just stood slightly behind him and let the firelight dance in the night.

It certainly was a time for reflection…

  I go to touch him softly and he slowly turns his head away from the fire and as his eyes settle on my hand hovering above his shoulder and he shudders and jerks away. I’m offended at first until I realize I forgot my gloves that day.
Opps, scary, bony hand. Right! A real turn off and I duck my head to make sure the cowl is covering my face.
No more mistakes!

   “Where am I?” he grits though clenched teeth while his head swings between me and the fiery conflagration upon the motor way.

   “Who the hell are you”

“Me?” I ask, exasperated. Like the scary, bony hand didn’t give me away!

   “Am I dead?”

Oh ****, he’s now hyperventilating… not a good sign

“Not yet” I answer slowly… Hmmm, how to explain? “ No, your not dead, but you will be. I took you early because well…” and I wave my hand in the general direction of the car that just exploded, which quite nicely scored a point in favor of my benevolence. “I just swooped in a bit early because, lets face it… do you want to be there?!!”

He throws his hands over his head and ducks at the loud explosion and looks at me like it was my entire fault. Well I wasn’t the one that thought I was okay to drive home after drinking all night but I’m used to being pegged as ‘The Bad Guy’… rolls eyes Sheesh!

   “Where’s Janet?” he asks quietly then with an ear piercing scream (I don’t really have ears but by the howls coming from the forest behind us (because I can hear animals, I'm not completely deaf) I’m assuming his voice ratcheted up a notch or two…) JANET!!

"Calm down dude. She’s gone already."

   "Gone already? What do you mean gone already? You got me out and left her in the car?!?" He seems really ****** now.

"No! I didn’t! I mean that Gabriel has already been to collect her. Hey you’re a lucky guy. Gabriel doesn’t just shuck his wings to swoop down for nobody. She must be a real nice piece of… well a really nice lady for Gabriel to come collect her."

   "Gabriel?" He's shaking his head slowly like he's trying to dislodge a twig from his hair and his eyes are growing wider by the minute. "Gabriel? As in Archangel Gabriel? So she's going to heaven?"

He seems relieved which in turn makes me breath easier until he focuses again on me with a crazy eyed stare which makes me think he's about to get hysterical again.

   "Then what the hell am I still doing here? Why aren't I with her?"

Oh, tricky question. I hate the tricky questions. I'm so not paid enough for this **** and tricky questions. Why can't they just ever come along quietly?

"Umm" I hedge, with a little twitch right about where my eye muscle should have been. "I believe it has something to do with your secretary?" I deliberately leave it ending in a question.

   "My secretary? What the hell does that... Ohhh..."

Bingo, there you go. I love it when the penny drops quickly.

But I'm saddened because I know for a fact that his secretary was a scheming ***** that came onto him and he sidestepped all her advances at every opportunity but he was caught late night at the office with a big case and she took advantage of the late hour and even though nothing happened he still fantasized occasionally about the almost moment.

I pointed this out to Gabriel when he came to collect Janet and also advised that Janet was less innocent than she looked and he just sneered to me in that pompous angel way...
"Yeah? So what. We're really bored up there and this one is pious enough to escape notice but just enough down and ***** we can have some fun.
Back off Death!

You've already touched this one.

You just make sure you clean up the mess left over and make sure her man doesn't come sniffing 'round our domain or we'll make sure Lucifer hears about your little mistake with the last Pope and how you let him escape upstairs when he was meant to take the elevator south... Yeah, you know what I'm talking about...."
and then he was gone. All shining light and white wings and trumpets and fanfare.

Pfffttt... the mans exit is the most exciting thing about him so I guess Janet really is going to get what she deserves...

   "So what about me?" he said to pull me out of my reverie

"What about you?" Oh! What about* you? Okay, well I can put you back in the car and you can be burned alive until you take your last breath and get just a small taste of where you are heading"

He didn't really seem to like that answer and by the look on his face that is when I decided to toss the stick with the marshmallow squished onto the end of it far into the treeline. I really didn't think I was ever going to be able to pull that one out of the bag. But I was still really ****** at Janet (on his behalf) and I'd ******* this one up to royal proportions so I didn't think my next suggestion would be any less worthy of the moment.

"Or, I could bust you through the windshield on impact before the car sets alight."

He's not sure but he's nodding his head slowly and he's listening.

"Now, you have to remember, you were traveling at speed and not wearing a seat belt of course so you have to know that where you land after skidding a bit.... well, there will be scars..."

   *"Scars, chicks dig scars" he murmurs thoughtfully

"Yes, they do" I warm up to the thought. "And don't forget, you'll be a Widower too... Chicks dig that too"

   "Yes, a widower, scarred and tragically losing their wife. I like, I like"

He's warming to my idea.

I'm so smart!

Because he wasn't supposed to be the one I was to escort to Hell.
It was supposed to be his ***** of a wife Janet, but who in their right mind fights an Archangel for a soul? Not me, I'm the biggest wimp of all time. I just touch them and they fall! I'm not a fighter. Janet, for all her sins was to be mate to Lucifer tonight. I could have just touched Gabriel but I noticed he didn't get close enough to me to allow it and I didn't push the cause because I knew his payload wasn't anything he should gloat about and I wished him well...

So I really did '****' two birds with one stone this night. Janet got what was coming to her (Gabriel is the biggest sadistic ***** of the bunch) and her husband is a little banged up but the sympathy vote is scoring him some serious chick points.

Me?
I love my job :-)

Beyond
sad eyes that
shed soulful tears
Beyond a closed mind
that relives all that it fears
Beyond the whip that would flay
the broken skin. Beyond the words that
mark a soul with sin. Beyond the painful ache
that built a spark. Beyond the empty days we are
apart. Beyond a world that I have to live without you
Beyond lips that drip poison are words that are true. Beyond
is a world where I would hide. Beyond you is just a downhill slide

Down by the river
I did quiver
Did you wonder?

You caressed my breast
Over my protest
Under your conquest

Wild flowers were my bed
On several pleas I fled
Now I wonder?
Did you just want to be fed?
Every lie beat to the thunder
Released by your hunger

I traced your energy
Far north than your thought

I never denied what you wanted

Count me as a willing bride
Arrested in time
Ready for more than a moment
Every time I relive the memory
Did you ever wonder if I wondered?

Expanding into existence, perfectly formed
Given life by a soft gentle blow
Caught by the breeze to be carried away
Floating on by, languid and slow
Creating the ultimate joy at heart
With a life too short for it’s kind
Gifted it's sparkle as it is kissed by the sun
A more simplistic life it will never find
Such altruism should not go unrewarded
As I watch them skitter and dance and hop
I wonder?
Where do the bubbles go?
When they pop?