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Poems
rhiannon
Mar 2019
Once upon a time there was a brave girl called Alison Parker. She was on the way to see her mum Michelle Ramsbottom, when she decided to take a short cut through Wyre Forest.
It wasn’t long before Alison got lost. She looked around, but all she could see were trees. Nervously, she felt into her bag for her favourite toy, Bunny, but Bunny was nowhere to be found! Alison began to panic. She felt sure she had packed Bunny. To make matters worse, she was starting to feel hungry.
Unexpectedly, she saw a kind werewolf dressed in a black skirt disappearing into the trees.
“How odd!” thought Alison.
For the want of anything better to do, she decided to follow the peculiarly dressed werewolf. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.
Eventually, Alison reached a clearing. She found herself surrounded by houses made from different sorts of food. There was a house made from carrots, a house made from biscuits, a house made from cakes and a house made from pancakes.
Alison could feel her tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease her hunger.
“Hello!” she called. “Is anybody there?”
Nobody replied.
Alison looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else’s chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.
A cackle broke through the air, giving Alison a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was Bunny!
“Bunny!” shouted Alison. She turned to the witch. “That’s my toy!”
The witch just shrugged.
“Give Bunny back!” cried Alison.
“Not on your nelly!” said the witch.
“At least let Bunny out of that cage!”
Before she could reply, three kind werewolves rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the clearing. Alison recognised the one in the black skirt that she’d seen earlier. The witch seemed to recognise him too.
“Hello Big Werewolf,” said the witch.
“Good morning.” The werewolf noticed Bunny. “Who is this?”
“That’s Bunny,” explained the witch.
“Ooh! Bunny would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!” demanded the werewolf.
The witch shook her head. “Bunny is staying with me.”
“Um… Excuse me…” Alison interrupted. “Bunny lives with me! And not in a cage!”
Big Werewolf ignored her. “Is there nothing you’ll trade?” he asked the witch.
The witch thought for a moment, then said, “I do like to be entertained. I’ll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door.”
Big Werewolf looked at the house made from pancakes and said, “No problem, I could eat an entire house made from pancakes if I wanted to.”
“That’s nothing,” said the next werewolf. “I could eat twohouses.”
“There’s no need to show off,” said the witch. Just eat one front door and I’ll let you have Bunny.”
Alison watched, feeling very worried. She didn’t want the witch to give Bunny to Big Werewolf. She didn’t think Bunny would like living with a kind werewolf, away from her house and all her other toys.
The other two werewolves watched while Big Werewolf put on his bib and withdrew a knife and fork from his pocket.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Big Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Big Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from biscuits. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
Eventually, Big Werewolf started to get bigger – just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of biscuits, he grew to the size of a large snowball – and he was every bit as round.
“Erm… I don’t feel too good,” said Big Werewolf.
Suddenly, he started to roll. He’d grown so round that he could no longer balance!
“Help!” he cried, as he rolled off down a ***** into the forest.
Big Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from biscuits and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Average Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from cakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Average Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Average Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After a while, Average Werewolf started to look a little queasy. She grew greener…
…and greener.
A woodcutter walked into the clearing. “What’s this bush doing here?” he asked.
“I’m not a bush, I’m a werewolf!” said Average Werewolf.
“It talks!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “Those talking bushes are the worst kind. I’d better take it away before somebody gets hurt.”
“No! Wait!” cried Average Werewolf, as the woodcutter picked her up. But the woodcutter ignored her cries and carried the werewolf away under his arm.
Average Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from cakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Little Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from pancakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Little Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Little Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from pancakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After five or six platefuls, Little Werewolf started to fidget uncomfortably on the spot.
He stopped eating pancakes for a moment, then grabbed another forkful.
But before he could eat it, there came an almighty roar. A bottom burp louder than a rocket taking off, propelled Little Werewolf into the sky.
“Aggghhhhhh!” cried Little Werewolf. “I’m scared of heigh…”
Little Werewolf was never seen again.
Little Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from pancakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.
“That’s it,” said the witch. “I win. I get to keep Bunny.”
“Not so fast,” said Alison. “There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from carrots. And I haven’t had a turn yet.
“I don’t have to give you a turn!” laughed the witch. “My game. My rules.”
The woodcutter’s voice carried through the forest. “I think you should give her a chance. It’s only fair.”
“Fine,” said the witch. “But you saw what happened to the werewolves. She won’t last long.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Alison.
“What?” said the witch. “Where’s your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted Bunny back.”
Alison ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. She came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, she broke off a piece of the door of the house made from carrots and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, she took a bite. She quickly devoured the whole piece.
Alison sat down on a nearby log.
“You fail!” cackled the witch. “You were supposed to eat the whole door.”
“I haven’t finished,” explained Alison. “I am just waiting for my food to go down.”
When Alison’s food had digested, she broke off another piece of the door made from carrots. Once more, she toasted her food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. She ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.
Eventually, after several sittings, Alison was down to the final piece of the door made from carrots. Carefully, she toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. She finished her final course. Alison had eaten the entire front door of the house made from carrots.
The witch stamped her foot angrily. “You must have tricked me!” she said. “I don’t reward cheating!”
“I don’t think so!” said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. “This little girl won fair and square. Now hand over Bunny or I will chop your broomstick in half.”
The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.
Alison hurried over and grabbed Bunny, checking that her favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, Bunny was unharmed.
Alison thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet Michelle. It was starting to get dark.
When Alison got to Michelle’s house, her mum threw her arms around her.
“I was so worried!” cried Michelle. “You are very late.”
As Alison described her day, she could tell that Michelle didn’t believe her. So she grabbed a napkin from her pocket.
“What’s that?” asked Michelle.
Alison unwrapped a doorknob made from biscuits. “Pudding!” she said.
Michelle almost fell off her chair.
The End
It wasn’t long before Alison got lost. She looked around, but all she could see were trees. Nervously, she felt into her bag for her favourite toy, Bunny, but Bunny was nowhere to be found! Alison began to panic. She felt sure she had packed Bunny. To make matters worse, she was starting to feel hungry.
Unexpectedly, she saw a kind werewolf dressed in a black skirt disappearing into the trees.
“How odd!” thought Alison.
For the want of anything better to do, she decided to follow the peculiarly dressed werewolf. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.
Eventually, Alison reached a clearing. She found herself surrounded by houses made from different sorts of food. There was a house made from carrots, a house made from biscuits, a house made from cakes and a house made from pancakes.
Alison could feel her tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease her hunger.
“Hello!” she called. “Is anybody there?”
Nobody replied.
Alison looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else’s chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.
A cackle broke through the air, giving Alison a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was Bunny!
“Bunny!” shouted Alison. She turned to the witch. “That’s my toy!”
The witch just shrugged.
“Give Bunny back!” cried Alison.
“Not on your nelly!” said the witch.
“At least let Bunny out of that cage!”
Before she could reply, three kind werewolves rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the clearing. Alison recognised the one in the black skirt that she’d seen earlier. The witch seemed to recognise him too.
“Hello Big Werewolf,” said the witch.
“Good morning.” The werewolf noticed Bunny. “Who is this?”
“That’s Bunny,” explained the witch.
“Ooh! Bunny would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!” demanded the werewolf.
The witch shook her head. “Bunny is staying with me.”
“Um… Excuse me…” Alison interrupted. “Bunny lives with me! And not in a cage!”
Big Werewolf ignored her. “Is there nothing you’ll trade?” he asked the witch.
The witch thought for a moment, then said, “I do like to be entertained. I’ll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door.”
Big Werewolf looked at the house made from pancakes and said, “No problem, I could eat an entire house made from pancakes if I wanted to.”
“That’s nothing,” said the next werewolf. “I could eat twohouses.”
“There’s no need to show off,” said the witch. Just eat one front door and I’ll let you have Bunny.”
Alison watched, feeling very worried. She didn’t want the witch to give Bunny to Big Werewolf. She didn’t think Bunny would like living with a kind werewolf, away from her house and all her other toys.
The other two werewolves watched while Big Werewolf put on his bib and withdrew a knife and fork from his pocket.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Big Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Big Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from biscuits. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
Eventually, Big Werewolf started to get bigger – just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of biscuits, he grew to the size of a large snowball – and he was every bit as round.
“Erm… I don’t feel too good,” said Big Werewolf.
Suddenly, he started to roll. He’d grown so round that he could no longer balance!
“Help!” he cried, as he rolled off down a ***** into the forest.
Big Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from biscuits and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Average Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from cakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Average Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Average Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After a while, Average Werewolf started to look a little queasy. She grew greener…
…and greener.
A woodcutter walked into the clearing. “What’s this bush doing here?” he asked.
“I’m not a bush, I’m a werewolf!” said Average Werewolf.
“It talks!” exclaimed the woodcutter. “Those talking bushes are the worst kind. I’d better take it away before somebody gets hurt.”
“No! Wait!” cried Average Werewolf, as the woodcutter picked her up. But the woodcutter ignored her cries and carried the werewolf away under his arm.
Average Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from cakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.Little Werewolf stepped up, and approached the house made from pancakes.
“I’ll eat this whole house,” said Little Werewolf. “Just you watch!”
Little Werewolf pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from pancakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.
And more.
And more.
After five or six platefuls, Little Werewolf started to fidget uncomfortably on the spot.
He stopped eating pancakes for a moment, then grabbed another forkful.
But before he could eat it, there came an almighty roar. A bottom burp louder than a rocket taking off, propelled Little Werewolf into the sky.
“Aggghhhhhh!” cried Little Werewolf. “I’m scared of heigh…”
Little Werewolf was never seen again.
Little Werewolf never finished eating the front door made from pancakes and Bunny remained trapped in the witch’s cage.
“That’s it,” said the witch. “I win. I get to keep Bunny.”
“Not so fast,” said Alison. “There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from carrots. And I haven’t had a turn yet.
“I don’t have to give you a turn!” laughed the witch. “My game. My rules.”
The woodcutter’s voice carried through the forest. “I think you should give her a chance. It’s only fair.”
“Fine,” said the witch. “But you saw what happened to the werewolves. She won’t last long.”
“I’ll be right back,” said Alison.
“What?” said the witch. “Where’s your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted Bunny back.”
Alison ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. She came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, she broke off a piece of the door of the house made from carrots and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, she took a bite. She quickly devoured the whole piece.
Alison sat down on a nearby log.
“You fail!” cackled the witch. “You were supposed to eat the whole door.”
“I haven’t finished,” explained Alison. “I am just waiting for my food to go down.”
When Alison’s food had digested, she broke off another piece of the door made from carrots. Once more, she toasted her food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. She ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.
Eventually, after several sittings, Alison was down to the final piece of the door made from carrots. Carefully, she toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. She finished her final course. Alison had eaten the entire front door of the house made from carrots.
The witch stamped her foot angrily. “You must have tricked me!” she said. “I don’t reward cheating!”
“I don’t think so!” said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. “This little girl won fair and square. Now hand over Bunny or I will chop your broomstick in half.”
The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.
Alison hurried over and grabbed Bunny, checking that her favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, Bunny was unharmed.
Alison thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet Michelle. It was starting to get dark.
When Alison got to Michelle’s house, her mum threw her arms around her.
“I was so worried!” cried Michelle. “You are very late.”
As Alison described her day, she could tell that Michelle didn’t believe her. So she grabbed a napkin from her pocket.
“What’s that?” asked Michelle.
Alison unwrapped a doorknob made from biscuits. “Pudding!” she said.
Michelle almost fell off her chair.
The End
preservationman Jul 2015
NIGHT THEREFORE
preservationman
Jul 2015
The moon being a spotlight of what took place
Pitch black of darkness that can’t be erased
A lonely man walking down the street was attacked by a Werewolf
He was bitten on the arm being the proof
As legends says, “Whoever is bitten by a Werewolf will turn into one”
It was 1984 when a frightening transformation took place
The man who was bitten prior began changing into a Werewolf
His clothes ripped at every seam
His eyes became brightened in Werewolf beams
The mans hands became claws for flesh
Immediately prancing on moonshine waves
A chiller not knowing how to hehave
The Werewolf thirsty for blood and human flesh
It was a Werewolf from man to beast
The Werewolf turning the night into a feast
As a couple were walking down the street
This was a night that one should be very discreet
The Werewolf attacked the couple and just clawed in
Another night of death that begun
The curse of the Werewolf being the bloodline
The combination of man and beast sublime
A night of numerous attacks
All the victims right in the smack
Was there any end to the Werewolf?
Continuous nightmares were the proof
The moon knows all too well of the tail
It’s the curse that will truly prevail
The hope of a bullet that will break the curse
But it is time after time that will need to reverse.
Pitch black of darkness that can’t be erased
A lonely man walking down the street was attacked by a Werewolf
He was bitten on the arm being the proof
As legends says, “Whoever is bitten by a Werewolf will turn into one”
It was 1984 when a frightening transformation took place
The man who was bitten prior began changing into a Werewolf
His clothes ripped at every seam
His eyes became brightened in Werewolf beams
The mans hands became claws for flesh
Immediately prancing on moonshine waves
A chiller not knowing how to hehave
The Werewolf thirsty for blood and human flesh
It was a Werewolf from man to beast
The Werewolf turning the night into a feast
As a couple were walking down the street
This was a night that one should be very discreet
The Werewolf attacked the couple and just clawed in
Another night of death that begun
The curse of the Werewolf being the bloodline
The combination of man and beast sublime
A night of numerous attacks
All the victims right in the smack
Was there any end to the Werewolf?
Continuous nightmares were the proof
The moon knows all too well of the tail
It’s the curse that will truly prevail
The hope of a bullet that will break the curse
But it is time after time that will need to reverse.
zebra
Aug 2016
on the first date
she confided in me
i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder
i need love and pain strangely mixed together
my elixirs
i suffer reality distoooorrtions
a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions
my soul is black matter
my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire
my *** cries for homicidal cruelty
mold me into a *******
fold me like a two dollar beach chair
the wrong way
tear me to bits
unwind my intestine
eat me like a blood ******* ghoul
make me squirm like an anime victim
i thought oh finally a soul mate
with soul
strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics
hot girl creeping
grimacing at me
meandering conjurations by ****** contortions
stunning impersonations of a Fellini impaling
shes a famous artist
keeps broodish bowels and blood tampons in stainless vitrines
spot lighted
ready for her debut at the
Museum of Modern Art
she blows torrents of snot like ****
her beautiful desperate tongue searching the upper lip
a salty runny viscoses snack
oozy
finding it finally with her frenetic tongue
feeding her gooey ****
with wet fingers
oh yummy yum goo
up her *** too
first smiling then hideous scowls
exposed teeth
posing with a knife
wana see me cut my self bad boy, she taunts
wana see my impersonation of pizza with extra tomato sauce
blood blood *** in the be in the bed
wipe it up with ginger bread
some how she miraculously bulges her eyes out
then performs, ******* lips as if a minnow in a fish jar
pointing to her ***
giving me that **** hurt me twisted look
how about a peanut butter jelly ******* sandwich
with a side of ****** feet
**** and **** on toes
its especially prized this day of the month
as her **** tears like a vampires mouth, a torrent of blood
pouting **** with white red stained thighs that break a mans heart
*** nothing at all she quips
just a little accident
do you like it?
as she glares like an invitation
to play slip and slide bare foot in her puddle of blood
oh she made me *****
my cherry red **** having a nervous breakdown
from apoplectic horror gasms
a dose of heavens hell
i want her
she is voluptuous like a dozen venomous snakes
copulating in warm soup dark water everglades
she is slither theater
curdling screams
then muggling *******
brought on by the first belly stab
falling to her knees
looking up shocked
mouth gaping
eyes wide
grinning
glance steady
holding holding holding
the belly cut
a cacophonous modern dance of agony
followed by rapturous convulsing *******
that went on and on and on
get a bat she implored
she is a real ******* movie star
the Greta Garbo of *****
a dark jewel
a must have
a hell wife
goddess of dread
a ******* *** genius
my best girl ever
fused by desire
we kissed like **** loving catholic priests
in adoration of their savior
young boy *** castrato hitting the high notes
she looked up with desperation
eyes with glittering tears
and said
are you my black knight?
do you know how to hurt a girl
are you my
Vex Mallus
Dr Satan
Marquis De Sick
Nick Nick
Dark Officer
Remus the Werewolf
Dom Sugar Daddy
Pit Bull
Tommy the Tummy Gutter
5 o'clock Shadow
London Cabby
Amputee ******
Uncle Surgery Gone Wrong
King of the Carpathian Vampires
my sweet kissy Kitten
ooohh yes i said
i am all that for loves sake
albeit twisted
i am what you crave.. your no taboo lover boy
your ******* licking foot slave with a razor in hand
a bubble of poison between my legs
your homicidal suicidal cockealiciousness
she said good,
now that we have that settled
can we go out for dinner
ill be dressed in a jiffy
if i can find my dead skirt
of soft white gauze
with that lovely motif of dread red
and my precious toe tag jewelery
she confided in me
i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder
i need love and pain strangely mixed together
my elixirs
i suffer reality distoooorrtions
a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions
my soul is black matter
my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire
my *** cries for homicidal cruelty
mold me into a *******
fold me like a two dollar beach chair
the wrong way
tear me to bits
unwind my intestine
eat me like a blood ******* ghoul
make me squirm like an anime victim
i thought oh finally a soul mate
with soul
strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics
hot girl creeping
grimacing at me
meandering conjurations by ****** contortions
stunning impersonations of a Fellini impaling
shes a famous artist
keeps broodish bowels and blood tampons in stainless vitrines
spot lighted
ready for her debut at the
Museum of Modern Art
she blows torrents of snot like ****
her beautiful desperate tongue searching the upper lip
a salty runny viscoses snack
oozy
finding it finally with her frenetic tongue
feeding her gooey ****
with wet fingers
oh yummy yum goo
up her *** too
first smiling then hideous scowls
exposed teeth
posing with a knife
wana see me cut my self bad boy, she taunts
wana see my impersonation of pizza with extra tomato sauce
blood blood *** in the be in the bed
wipe it up with ginger bread
some how she miraculously bulges her eyes out
then performs, ******* lips as if a minnow in a fish jar
pointing to her ***
giving me that **** hurt me twisted look
how about a peanut butter jelly ******* sandwich
with a side of ****** feet
**** and **** on toes
its especially prized this day of the month
as her **** tears like a vampires mouth, a torrent of blood
pouting **** with white red stained thighs that break a mans heart
*** nothing at all she quips
just a little accident
do you like it?
as she glares like an invitation
to play slip and slide bare foot in her puddle of blood
oh she made me *****
my cherry red **** having a nervous breakdown
from apoplectic horror gasms
a dose of heavens hell
i want her
she is voluptuous like a dozen venomous snakes
copulating in warm soup dark water everglades
she is slither theater
curdling screams
then muggling *******
brought on by the first belly stab
falling to her knees
looking up shocked
mouth gaping
eyes wide
grinning
glance steady
holding holding holding
the belly cut
a cacophonous modern dance of agony
followed by rapturous convulsing *******
that went on and on and on
get a bat she implored
she is a real ******* movie star
the Greta Garbo of *****
a dark jewel
a must have
a hell wife
goddess of dread
a ******* *** genius
my best girl ever
fused by desire
we kissed like **** loving catholic priests
in adoration of their savior
young boy *** castrato hitting the high notes
she looked up with desperation
eyes with glittering tears
and said
are you my black knight?
do you know how to hurt a girl
are you my
Vex Mallus
Dr Satan
Marquis De Sick
Nick Nick
Dark Officer
Remus the Werewolf
Dom Sugar Daddy
Pit Bull
Tommy the Tummy Gutter
5 o'clock Shadow
London Cabby
Amputee ******
Uncle Surgery Gone Wrong
King of the Carpathian Vampires
my sweet kissy Kitten
ooohh yes i said
i am all that for loves sake
albeit twisted
i am what you crave.. your no taboo lover boy
your ******* licking foot slave with a razor in hand
a bubble of poison between my legs
your homicidal suicidal cockealiciousness
she said good,
now that we have that settled
can we go out for dinner
ill be dressed in a jiffy
if i can find my dead skirt
of soft white gauze
with that lovely motif of dread red
and my precious toe tag jewelery
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist you would see me telling a story, not judge me, although i admit to my paraphilias
These poems are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
If i where a film maker or a novelist you would see me telling a story, not judge me, although i admit to my paraphilias
These poems are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me