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Trefild May 16
his own & this world's realities are like the fuzz in the States
they're ones to escape
that's a plan of attack that's, on the lines of a wraith
switch side of Jo[ɑ]hhny dang Blaze, running up on his brain
like that Trump ****, today
he feels bold (bald), so maybe there'll be, like abundance of cake
fortune coming his way
["fortis fortuna adiuvat"/"fortune favors the bold"]
this one's a shmuck thing to say, but the club's like Ukraine (what?)
he, like motorized cavalcades
from the next-door empire, invades
its territory causing, like unaccommodating controversial writer, a sla[ɛ]m
as he shuts the door frame
[Eminem; "Unaccommodating" song]
obviously, some people may
find that offensive like armed aggression
so my apologies, I'm somewhat ashamed
mainstream house stuff is on play
a thought in his skull: "this is lame"
Michael S. straight after he turned around & stumbled on blamed
Toby F.; through the crowd he cuts like a blade
[the ending of the "Frame Toby" episode cold open from "The Office" series]
having hopped U̲p on the stage
as if it were a narcotic substance you've ta'en
he, so loud as if with his cullions in grave
nU̲t-wrenching pain, bawls "THIS ****** *****!" like a brace
of thigh highs colored with stains of blood; yanderE̲[eɪ]
[*****; so[ɑ]cks]
schoolgirl; disgruntled, he makes for the f#cking DJ
delivers a verbal punch in his face by the fo[ɑ]llowing phrase
"go house-sit with your confounded
boring house sh#t, like a housewyf"
whereafter thrusts him away
rounding the assault off with "ciao, drip!"
music-wise, things are gon' go hard as nuts in this place
as if a flock of ones who're deranged
["who're" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "whoor"]
swung by a club in the wake of a ****** **[ɑ]spital break (nuts in this place)
he puts on midtempo dark cyberpunky synthwave
Gesaffelsteinish mid-paced
type of music; that's what drives his crumpet insane
speaking of crumpets, he spots a buxomish babe
while keep rocking his **** nut to this cray
music, he feels like a **** being aimed
at for she stands with her sight, like one of a gun, fixed his way
for a few secs, at each other they gaze (call it eye fool–ing around)
[eyeful]
she's quite a fox with her vibrant locks
reminding of flame; somebody call a fire brigade
hourglass-shaped & rigged out in tight pa[ɛ]nts & a blouse
with a U̲-neck, like a male without
*****, & leaving her waist a bit out
[******]
on display; he makes his way to/makes for that frau
salutates her with "ciao", then, in a shake, he enoun–
–ces: "babe, you're way like a house
for lodging that's nowhere to be found
that is, in the deep of a labyrinth"
she's like "what in the void's name's this about?"
he replies "I'ma translate that one now"
"you look amazing, ten out
of ten" like that "KleanColor" skin bro[ɑ]nzer
[a maze inn; "Tan Out Of Tan"]
she makes a slight smile
says "aren't you nice with this 𝒷ℴ𝒸𝒸𝒶 of Y̲O̲U̲rs when it
comes to venting the skull?"
he asks this glorious bI̲rd if she
fa[ɛ]ncies this sound
she chirps an affirmative
says she, mostly, faves underground
in terms of music; they vibe
to these tunes being pU̲t on, just like (who?)
that loony gobshite the whole liberal community'd like
to see wind up ruined just like
Aleppo or Mariupol; stop, I'd
like, before the main telling resumes, to rewind
a little: they vibe to these beats being put on; he finds
out, when asking her what drinkable fluid she'd like
to have, that she deems it uncool to imbibe (*****)
he replies "to tell you the truth, so do I"
so if there's somebody to wI̲[ɪ]nd up lit during this night
it is the moon in the sky
[some body]
after having their soft drinks taken, they bounce
like the music style brought into this wO̲rld heaps before chicks twerking
blew into the mainstream like "blaow!"
[hips]
he's got a whip ordered like a sick pervert
with a kink for power-playing around/dominative kind of playing around
they wait for several mins for it while it's pouring
finally, the motorized conveyance comes out
like a deb girlie
[debutante]
he trails this fox like she's prey to hunt down
watching her proceed to[–]ward it
in a way like she's on a catwalk waving around
a rig splurgy
having hopped in it, to a lodging place they set out
she's soaking wet like she's real *****, yet still hot as if she wE̲re dict–
–ator; the saucy look in her eyes
[haught; verdict]
once his palm is put on her thigh
a sort of luminous sign–
–board reading "absolutely alright
with going on a lewd spree tonight"
"a night out rhyme tale" by TREF1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)
Larry dillon Feb 3
You ensnared me like a dog in its cage
Locked me down in your cellar
drove to my estate
told my son it would be okay
Massacred my family with my face
And made sure to replay it for me everyday:
recorded the depravity so I could see it on tv
-Said to me:
"I know your heart is bleeding.
I will set you free when you watch,
Without shedding a single tear."
-I remained locked up for close to a year
I needed to know why you would trap me here
just to let me walk away
when you finally released me at gunpoint;
I learned to keep my tears at bay
Your response when I pressed for a reason:
        
               "...its just a game I play."

You set lives on fire then set us free
How many suicides have you kept as trophies?
Does it tingle like a wet tongue on your neck,
When you rip a life apart?
Presenting to us the imploded pieces
Like a perverted work of art?

You psychotic shapeshifter you sicken me
You serial-stealer of sacred space
You think the human race is a plague
So you became, "The Locust-Eater"
Playing out macabre fantasies
With such swift shifts of physical features
You delight in deriving such clever machinations
To deceive us ...
...but can you deceive yourself?
Underneath the bone and sinew
- you are still just YOU
...even though you masquerade as everybody else

How can I spot a chameleon in a kaleidoscope?
Belay your false colors.
Show me your true shade.

I studied you
Created a secret space- like you
Where I could stash you safe
Poured through claims of being kidnapped
By a being who could change its shape
Corroborated their claims-by the dates
Of misdeeds they were framed for
-And when they took their own life
In my research I found a smoking gun
-In your case your kryptonite
You must regress to your real skin
         once every month
So i set out ...
picked just the right target...
...and started to hunt

To lure out the chameleon...
I captured something...
      
        That I think you might love.

You wore Anessa's life like a glove
Was she to be your masterpiece?
You committed a crime so brazen- as her
it went viral within a week
you stole her child in the darkness of night,
Anessa's husband- that child's father
Must have been filled with such awful fright
He called authorities, you fabricated stories
you turned the victim into a suspect
Over a single fortnight
Not long after he was killed
in a drunken bar fight

As Anessa you were spotted months after
Ignoring a green light of a busy intersection
Parked in the middle of the road
Placed their child on that busy street
Then sped off in the other direction

Anessa was blindsided when you finally
let her go
Oh, i bet you waited with bated breath
For her self-removal from the world?
You ensured she would never again
Get to hold her baby girl
But Anessa never gave in
Did her steadfast resolve
feel like I rash upon your skin?
Where it festered forming feelings foreign
to a fiend such as you?

You scratched that itch
Began by sending her anonymous gifts
Even started shifting into her too
Stalked her waking moments
by engaging her as a stranger:
all the while unaware your sick infatuation:
Had put her in danger

I'm counting down the clock
I kidnapped maybe her or You
I left my address at Anessa's house
A note saying, " this is a game I play now too."
Soon now: a month will have passed
And it all comes crashing to A head:
at last.

So shed your skin
Prepare to fight
This vendetta ends here:

Tonight.

There is a lighter
          
           Just

waiting to ignite.

A knocking at my door
A knot in my stomach
Anessa...( or is it You)
bound beneath my floorboards?
I peer in the peephole then pull You (Or Anessa) out of that hidden hole
I drench us both( for every second You stole)
I  pour it all over
( my life will never be whole)  
I douse everything in here in gasoline
Confess your sins
(before the fire finds them out)
Its time to come CLEAN!!!

And it seems:
I will be dipping my hands in red tonight.
This will all end in the worst way.

I open the door
let Anessa( or You) In
She runs to my captive saying,
"Where do I begin?"

"I made something of my life
after it let me go
At first, it caused the Locust-Eater misery
You see it toys with humans:
ones it knows are weak
I was so meek and feeble before we met...
Yet,I'm the one person it failed to defeat
Its game gave me strength i never knew...
... resolve had always,somehow,eluded me
I do believe its games are vile...but,
They are necessary?
Please,**** me instead
"...but let the Locust-Eater free"

the captive Anessa(or You)
begins thrashing their feet
I yell," which one of you killed my family?!"
They both calmy respond:

" Me."

The lighter flicks in my hand
I'm unable to speak

A month has passed
Which one is the one I seek?
They both insist I let the other go
And you should know:
it slips from my hand
The lighter(like my grip of reality)
falling faster with exposed flame
adhering to the clear rules of gravity

The two Anessa's embrace.
They both begin to burn.

False colors from the chameleon fade out.
Hungry flames swallow me whole.
I am( am I?)...
seeing the Locust-Eater's true shade:

This is how I take control.

-
A story of a shape-shifting serial kidnapper who assumes the identities of his victims, implodes their lives...and lets them go.
mankind is a old tale
mankind is a old tale of respect
mankind is a wise old tale
mankind is a wise old respect
respect is a wise old respect
respect is a wise old tale of respect
honor of mankind is kindness of mankind

respect is a kindness respect
respect is a kindness old tale of respect
in honor of respect is in honor of mankind
a old tale is a wise old tale
a old tale is a wise old tale of respect
kindness is mankind kindness
kindness is mankind wise old tale

honor is a wise old respect
honor is a wise old tale of respect
honor is kindness of honor
mankind is a honor of mankind
respect honor respect
a wise old tale is respect of a wise old tale
kindness respect kindness‘
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words from the renaissance. for instance words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc... this poem is about a tale is a wise old tale. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
irinia Dec 2022
winter slowly digests me
it's hard to process
standing in the spaces
between the void of pain and
the void of ecstasy
(any void is just the unbearability
of fullness)
no violin can invent
some tears
my eyes not split
searching for
a tree-womb
to shelter my skin
and slow my cells
to the decency
of breathing,
to unearth
the old tale
gently
like an offering
Steve Page Oct 2022
Fairies knit tales, but they don’t have tails, I don’t think.  
Dog’s do.
Long,
with an abrupt end – that’s usually moving,
while never escaping its tether.
Is that the idea? – that no matter how far the tail goes,
it will never get out of hand.
Unless it’s docked of course – that is the saddest tail,
a stump of a tail that still tries its best,
but is destined for a short and disappointing end.

If I were a dog without a tail, I think I’d think it was the end of the world.

If I were a fairy without a tale – I would be sadder still.

The End.
Written in response to a poetry group given theme - fairy tales.  Thank you to Amy for the 'end of the world' line which I've misapplied.
experience is experience of a skill set
to tell of a experience is to tell of a skill set
to tell a tale of a experience is to tell a tale of a skill set
a tale of experience is a tale of a skill set
a skill set is a set of skill
a set of skill is a set of a player’s skill
a player’s skill is a player’s set of skill

to tell a tale is to tell a player’s experience
a player’s experience is a tale of a player’s experience
a player is a player’s tale of experience
telling is telling of a tale
a tale is telling of a tale
a tale is a player’s tale
tell is telling of a player’s tale

wishing is wishing a tale
wishing is wishing a player’s tale
wishing is wishing of a telling tale
wishing is wishing of a telling experience
to wish is to tell a tale
to wish is to tell a telling tale
a tale is a tale of a wishing tale
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words from the renaissance. for instance words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc... this poem is about a wish is a wish of a telling experience. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
ryeon Mar 2022
i am someone's story. in one person's tale, i am the girl who plays the role of the comic relief. the one who makes people laugh and smile, as well as providing humor. in one another person’s storyline, i am the main lead, bringing to life all of those desired characteristics. in another's eyes, i may be the wise sage who gives guidance at critical stages in their lives. however, when i stop to think about it, i find that i am the antagonist in someone else's plot. the bad guy, to be precise. and no matter how hard i try to change my ways, the reality is that i am who i am to them, and in certain situations, there is nothing i can do to change it. in their book of life, i am the arrogant evil villain.

but then you came. everything changed when you walked into my life out of nowhere. you appeared in my life like a shooting star and filled my heart with bliss. and i've never felt safer or vibrant than i do when i'm around you. not once in my life have i felt so alive. it seemed as if you were unveiling new layers of greatness to me with each passing moment. i've never seen that much gentleness in a lone soul before. in the shadows, you were gently carving out a space for yourself in my heart without me even realizing it.

you embraced my grief as if it were your own and showed me love as no one else ever could. everytime i felt like i was on the verge of falling, you stayed with me. when i was weak, you were my pillar of support. when i needed someone to weep on, you were there for me. because of your smile, i was able to make my existence on this planet worthwhile. for a long time, it seemed impossible to feel so connected to someone. however, it is quite simple to feel intertwined with you. i can't tell you how good it makes me feel. i've began to realize that i had no idea what it felt like to be truly loved until i met you.
we're the villain in soneone else's story but there's only person who can make you feel the essence of being a main character of the story.
My Dear Poet Jan 2022
This is a tale about a tale
that had no end

A tale of the tale
of what was then

It went on forever
from wherever

but none knows when
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