"hissed" poems
We were a strange kind
your mind ignited mine
we grew on eachother like a fertilized vine
& crashed and burned before our time
ours is a tale I long to rewrite
let ink spill out, 7 chapters in a night
regretting words I hissed in spite
forgiving ourselves for ending the fight
I'd start back before I knew your name
slip into to a less polluted time
before I cried after drinking red wine
back when our souls were intertwined
before contracts of our destiny were signed
before my heart was forced to resign
once upon a time,
I was yours and you were mine
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 7:14 AM UTC
As the days grow cooler now,
I start to face the question, How?
It’s been so long that I can’t hear your voice,
But as the day draws near I'm left with little choice.
To tell you now just how it was,
That you took my heart and then hit pause.
You never knew and I don’t blame you for that,
But in misdirected anger I still hissed and spat.
On that day - so late in November,
The sights the smells - your smile I still remember.
Merry and Jovial we relaxed by the pool,
The evening breeze welcomingly cool.
As the sun set and the sky filled with stars,
I started to feel like I was heading for Mars.
The feeling was alien overwhelming me so,
A feeling of love …
I couldn't let that show!
And I’d never let it go!
It tore at my heart and split me in two,
Surely this could not have been all because of you?
It’s closer now the time we’ll meet again,
I know it won’t be easy - a meeting of pain.
I have my plans and I'm sure you have yours,
But I'm not going to force open those doors.
I’ll tell you my truth on the hold that you had,
It was not a craze or in passing a Fad.
It was what it was but I want to move on,
But that’s now not to say that I want you gone.
Understanding and Acceptance is part of us all,
It’s just how you cradle the rise and the fall.
It was never your fault it was me through and through,
I should have just come out and said it to you.
I loved him then and would have given my all,
But time and again I stood up just to fall.
I’ll never forget you I don’t think that I could,
But moving on is something I should.
I'm not looking for feet sweeping kisses and a lifetime together,
I just want you to know my life isn't over.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 3:23 AM UTC
Your voice got louder
My words were hissed
I should've known
You would get ******
Adrenaline balled up
In the palm of my fist
I simply can't take
Much more of this
I knew it from the start
That this wouldn't last
Now I just want out
Real fuckin' fast
You're so **** controlling
Your tight hold on the reins
I really fuckin' hate you
I feel it in my veins
Don't accuse me of ****
That I didn't do
But I don't argue anymore
You won't see my view
I broke away from your hold
You don't control me
I can do what I want
I'm finally free
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
It was an autumn day; a fresh aroma the air.
Breathing in deeply, I was trapped in a snare.
How was I loured into this dangerous trap,
I just was not looking or even aware.
There was a sweet sticky dew tasting like mead,
This honey nectar turned my head to greed.
Losing control I was going out of my mind,
In a strange flower bed, I left my world behind.
Now wondering in a deep psychedelic dream,
I am floating eagerly down a rainbow stream.
Tender fresh flesh standing bold and proud,
Attracting prey with her bright coloured shroud.
Giving in freely, about to be devoured.
My censors telling me I was being deflowered.
There were silky soft hairs all over my skin,
Is a shocking end about to begin?
If no one had noticed I was ensnared in this place,
It may have all ended in humiliation and disgrace.
Now in so deep I have lost all self control,
It was as if a demon had stolen my soul.
Just then a watchful serpent raised its head,
Looking straight at me it hissed and said.
“I can see you; you have had your fun,
Now it is time to pay, or get out and run”.
Shocked out of the dream, I saw my plight,
What he said was true, I made my flight.
Lucky to escape, my advice is here,
If you see a Venus Flytrap,
STAY CLEAR.
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 6:19 AM UTC
You stripped me of my innocence.
Yours were the first lips
To press passion onto my stunted ****
My body bruised by your touch,
Your forked tongue hissed through gritted teeth,
Caress me, as your hands rattle
With anger, desire.
Testosterone fulled triggers
Blew holes into my anatomy,
Ripping apart my flesh.
Now I tie stitches where skin should be,
I'm bleeding out my purity.
Drip,
Drip,
Drip.
The beads of sweat, roll downwards,
Trickling off your looming armour.
They dance with the oceans in my eyes.
Itching spiders romance with the bones
Upon my empty corpse.
Hollow reeking mass,
Devoured by play pretend.
Love lead way to self devouring devotion,
We play on ties with lit matchsticks.
Broken, singed strings,
Where my innocence should lie.
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
He saw her through the tower window.
Silhouetted by candle light
Her beauty quite breath taking
On this cold November night
High above the tree tops
Imprisoned in the stone
She was far too pretty
To be trapped up there alone
So he fought his way to the top
This damsel deserved his best
He slaughtered the mighty dragon
Blood smeared across his chest
He made his way to the door
And found to his surprise
He could not break it down
Because she barricaded the inside
A scream from the room
You fool she hissed and said
I want to be here by myself
And now my pet is dead!
You ruined my castle
With your disgusting little plight
I am no damsel in distress
And you sir
Are no ******* knight!
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
-
*Lead dripping from
empty sockets,
a clock hissed in serpent hours,
it's venom oozing from the crystal walls*
it's 4 a.m. you insomnia lunatic.
*I'm too busy admiring,
how the man in the moon slithered through
these blinds on my soul-swept window.
That night I was a canvas,
as the moonlight stripped my arm raw of shale,
and tinted my skin with*
silvertongue.
***And when he was finished,
tiger stripes tattooed my thinning vessel.***
-
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
1670
In Winter in my Room
I came upon a Worm—
Pink, lank and warm—
But as he was a worm
And worms presume
Not quite with him at home—
Secured him by a string
To something neighboring
And went along.
A Trifle afterward
A thing occurred
I’d not believe it if I heard
But state with creeping blood—
A snake with mottles rare
Surveyed my chamber floor
In feature as the worm before
But ringed with power—
The very string with which
I tied him—too
When he was mean and new
That string was there—
I shrank—”How fair you are”!
Propitiation’s claw—
“Afraid,” he hissed
“Of me”?
“No cordiality”—
He fathomed me—
Then to a Rhythm Slim
Secreted in his Form
As Patterns swim
Projected him.
That time I flew
Both eyes his way
Lest he pursue
Nor ever ceased to run
Till in a distant Town
Towns on from mine
I set me down
This was a dream.
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i was wrenched from a bed
that was not my own to begin with.
into the sunlight, they dragged me,
hands yanking at my long hair.
i clutched my body.
jaw set, i silently vowed not to cry, to take it
like a woman should – to look them in the eye,
to stand unashamedly in front of my neighbors,
my mother, and my sisters. to stand in front of the town,
and face the inevitable.
the Pharisees threw me to the ground, gave a swift kick
to my side – gentle, compared with what would come.
the women, eyes glossed with icy detest, spat in my face.
*so the ***** has been caught*, they hissed.
But i refused to give them the satisfaction.
i wouldn’t close my eyes during it.
couldn’t.
Jesus, they barked, *we caught her sleeping
with a man she doesn’t belong to*.
you know what to do.
the little children and the rabbi and the mothers
and the sons, they felt the ground
for smooth, heavy rocks.
i bowed my head slightly, as fingers trembled over
new, prune-colored bruises
on my ribs, my stomach.
i unlocked my knees and lifted my chin,
met his eyes.
he paused for a moment, nodded his head slowly.
If you are without sin, please, cast the first stone.
i bit my lip, waited and watched,
squinting in the sunrise.
the Pharisees grumbled, the townspeople eyed me, but said
nothing, until they left, one
by one.
that Jesus, they mumbled,
He’s always finding loopholes.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 4:56 PM UTC
I
The Nutcrackers sate by a plate on the table,
The Sugar-tongs sate by a plate at his side;
And the Nutcrackers said, 'Don't you wish we were able
'Along the blue hills and green meadows to ride?
'Must we drag on this stupid existence for ever,
'So idle so weary, so full of remorse,--
'While every one else takes his pleasure, and never
'Seems happy unless he is riding a horse?
II
'Don't you think we could ride without being instructed?
'Without any saddle, or bridle, or spur?
'Our legs are so long, and so aptly constructed,
'I'm sure that an accident could not occur.
'Let us all of a sudden hop down from the table,
'And hustle downstairs, and each jump on a horse!
'Shall we try? Shall we go! Do you think we are able?'
The Sugar-tongs answered distinctly,'Of course!'
III
So down the long staircase they hopped in a minute,
The Sugar-tongs snapped, and the Crackers said 'crack!'
The stable was open, the horses were in it;
Each took out a pony, and jumped on his back.
The Cat in a fright scrambled out of the doorway,
The Mice tumbled out of a bundle of hay,
The brown and white Rats, and the black ones from Norway,
Screamed out, 'They are taking the horses away!'
IV
The whole of the household was filled with amazement,
The Cups and the Saucers danced madly about,
The Plates and the Dishes looked out of the casement,
The Saltcellar stood on his head with a shout,
The Spoons with a clatter looked out of the lattice,
The Mustard-pot climbed up the Gooseberry Pies,
The Soup-ladle peeped through a heap of Veal Patties,
And squeaked with a ladle-like scream of surprise.
V
The Frying-pan said, 'It's an awful delusion!'
The Tea-kettle hissed and grew black in the face;
And they all rushed downstairs in the wildest confusion,
To see the great Nutcracker-Sugar-tong race.
And out of the stable, with screamings and laughter,
(Their ponies were cream-coloured, speckled with brown,)
The Nutcrackers first, and the Sugar-tongs after,
Rode all round the yard, and then all round the town.
VI
They rode through the street, and they rode by the station,
They galloped away to the beautiful shore;
In silence they rode, and 'made no observation',
Save this: 'We will never go back any more!'
And still you might hear, till they rode out of hearing,
The Sugar-tongs snap, and the Crackers say 'crack!'
Till far in the distance their forms disappearing,
They faded away.--And they never came back!
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*She’s touched
By the burning fingers
Of a man
She doesn’t know.
Her hopes crushed
By the feeling that lingers
Of a night
She will always know.
Her clothes ripped
Her unheard cries,
Her body stripped
To fight she tries.
Her face is kissed
By a stranger
The man, he hissed
She’s in danger.
She is left rotten
As he walks past
Disappearing into the night
Time drags.
She thought she’d die
She believed she would
No one to hear her cry
No one understood.
With shaky fingers
And sweating chest
She wraps her skin
In clothes of strength.
She stumbled across
On to the street
She’s suffered a loss
A tragedy.
She thought she’d die
But now she wouldn’t
She didn’t cry
She knew she shouldn’t.
A girl is strong
A girl can fight
Right or wrong
A bird’s flight.
She walked home
In clothes of pride
Although scars showed
She didn’t hide.
Justice to her
Must be given
A promise to her
Must be written.
A girl is not
A piece of meat
A girl is worth
More than this feat.
A kiss from a stranger
A touch from a finger
A scream that’ll linger
For years to remember.
A girl is much more
She isn’t to blame,
Fire at the core
A burning flame.
All it takes
Is a scarring explosion
From girls sick
Of ruthless exploitation.*
***She fights like a girl
She runs like a girl
She hits like a girl
She is a girl.
She's got the strength
And the power
To rule the world
And to conquer.***
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
In Đà Nẵng my friends cradled me like a child.
We screamed Taylor bridges,
tequila-toasted in bars until the lights blurred.
A single candle in the bathroom
danced warm sighs through open windows,
and all felt calm.
I grew new muscles balancing on a motorcycle,
sometimes gripping Harry’s jacket,
sometimes throwing my weight into the wind.
The city flared neon and gasoline in stuttered traffic,
but along the coast
he drove so fast the vibrations in my chest harmonized.
I pictured my bones becoming butterflies if I let go.
I had entered the Year of the Dragon on a futon,
swayed to half-sleep by a hundred chanting voices
from the temple next door.
I did not dream of dragons.
I only learned to breathe fire.
At midnight Bailey stood at an ancestral altar,
kumquat branches, apricot blossoms, red envelopes, wine,
burning full sticks of incense,
and smoking half a pack of Esse Lights.
This is how the year turns over safely.
Tết is not about faith; it’s about continuity.
The Year of the Snake slid in with new bones and old habits.
It hissed that suffering could be scripture
until letters slithered free from the page
and coiled like cold jewelry around my wrist.
I didn’t make it for Tết that year
no silk áo dài, blood orange, too big
for a body that learned shrinking
before it learned staying.
That was the shedding.
Salt water peeling old skin away,
songs shouted so loud they drowned the ache,
poems that did not start tragic,
nights when my body finally kept time with the moon.
At home the water did not move.
At home the dog’s teeth found my hope.
A terrified mouth rerouted rivers
through my soft parts.
A jewel carved from my nose.
Six punctures blooming across my arms like altars.
In Vietnamese stories the snake waits beneath the water
to claim whoever dares the bank.
I wonder if I was chosen the moment
I opened my mouth in those bars,
when I leaned into the bike’s curve
as if danger could be a swan song.
Now I lie awake at hours unnamed,
tracing scars that hiss answers back.
Something from Vietnam keeps breathing through me,
the candle’s heat, the coast’s long nerve,
voices braided into salt and night,
and I cannot tell if they are echoes
or fangs testing the dark.
They say snakes shed to grow,
but no one warns you how thin the new skin feels,
how everything burns against it,
how you mistake survival for prophecy.
I touch the scar and wonder
if I am still that girl clinging to the bike,
or if the snake has already swallowed me,
patient, sleepless,
feeding on my own venom.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 1:24 PM UTC
Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and the day was past.
Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
Out on the porch’s sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly striking at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret my be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.
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I’ve been told by a friend to wait here.
As long as I stay here, you’ll be back past five o'clock.
I’ve waited—you came and opened the door.
It’s true; now I will dedicate my nine lives to you.
"She drinks her tea by midnight and lulls herself to sleep. You should waggle your tail and lie beside her. Every day except for Saturday." My friend laughed rigorously when she finished that statement.
“Why can’t I play with her every Saturday?” I asked her, trying to grasp her evading eyes.
"Just because," she shrugged and tried to climb the tree.
"Wait!" I hissed, but she’s nowhere to be found now.
I did everything she told me to do. Eat my food past lunch, play with my worn-out toy, and wait for her to be home.
At the exact moment the cruel sun rose and the light hit my body, I waggled my tail and lied beside her. Unfortunately, I forgot it was Saturday today.
I called her name, distinctively meowing in a weird manner. I cackled slightly; she wouldn’t understand. Biting slowly with her calloused hands and licking the side of her face, she still won’t wake up.
And I meowed until there was no sound left of me. My dear Celia, wake up, for you have to give me food now.
You still need to bathe me and play with me at the park. We’ll still wait for the night to come and watch TV.
Oh, Celia, I’d still spend my nine lives with you. Where have you been since I slept last night?
I’d still wait for you here at the table, near the window. Where the trees dance the delicacy of their sickening leaves. Oh, how we both hated the crispness of those brown leaves.
Oh, how you knew how much I hate autumn and how much I undoubtedly love the breeze of winter. The screeching of the winds and the snow falling onto the ground, where we both scrutinize its unique aspect. We were the same.
How you were covered in snowdrops, and you’d throw me inside the snowpack. I’ll hiss, and you’ll laugh.
"I told you not to play with her every Saturday," my friend whispered, almost with a faint cry. There was a hint of longing in her voice.
"You haven’t told me the answer, Ong."
"She grieves in her dreams, my friend. He visits every Saturday, spends a day with her, and goes home at exactly midnight. She’ll wake up tomorrow, bud," she answered in agony.
Who's he? " I turned to her, but she vanished once again.
Celia, I will love you for the rest of my nine lives. I’ll wait for you tomorrow. It’s okay to grieve for now.
I’d still wait for you here at the table, even though it’s autumn. We both got to accept that winter is already over.
It’s my first life with you in autumn.
Sep 9, 2023
Sep 9, 2023 at 3:10 AM UTC
Spark kissed tinder
burst into flames
As men gathered in tight knots
Stitched up a street riot
Wood warmed and glowed
Militant revolution minds
The embers hummed with ashes
As city streets burned
Tyres and tubes were rolled
home brew guzzled
Fuelled the fires further
more streets burned
Water cannons hissed
As men aflame with anger
Lit fireplaces up alleyways
With burning brain torches
Taking the political fireplaces
To the palace of no return.
As soon as the government
Dissolved into a carpet bombing
puddle
The big bear
licked its paws.
Author Notes
The Revolution continues after a lapse of two months. Most politics start around a fireplace fuelled by alcohol and hate. Once lit the fireplace chatter
moves into the street and spread rapidly.
The Bear anticipates a breakdown of law and order and amasses its troops along the border.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
'O Jesus Christ! I'm hit,' he said; and died.
Whether he vainly cursed, or prayed indeed,
The Bullets chirped - In vain! vain! vain!
Machine-guns chuckled, - Tut-tut! Tut-tut!
And the Big Gun guffawed.
Another sighed, - 'O Mother, mother! Dad!'
Then smiled, at nothing, childlike, being dead.
And the lofty Shrapnel-cloud
Leisurely gestured, - Fool!
And the falling splinters tittered.
'My Love!' one moaned. Love-languid seemed his mood,
Till, slowly lowered, his whole face kissed the mud.
And the Bayonets' long teeth grinned;
Rabbles of Shells hooted and groaned;
And the Gas hissed.
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(a traditional Japanese ghost story, re-told by Raj Arumugam)
Preamble
Ogiwara sits in his shed
alone, sad
only memories sustain him now
in the lonely hours of his nights
and now it is the night of the obon
and he hears the light feet of women
just outside on the grass
just below the willow
it is a woman with her peony lantern
and beside her
through his window
Ogiwara sees the beauty that weakens his heart
young Otsuyu he sees
and Ogiawara comes out and bows
and he invites them in
on this the night of the obon
What Onatsaku saw
I saw the ladies come every night
and the woman with the lantern
sat out at the deck
while the young one went in
and Ogiwara as happy as in times past
every night I saw them
come as gentle as divine beings
and before the break of dawn
as I prepared for work
I saw them leave
and Ogiwara sad, as he is always now
What an elderly neighbor saw
toothless I may be
but ‘m still sharp of faculty
and I saw these two w'men
one young, and a beauty as one from Edo
and every night Ogiwara received her
and last night I went by his window
and I saw ‘m naked in his room
and the w'man he was making love to
was but bones, bones and smiling skull
and the two were entwined
limb over limb
so close in love making
and the w'man he was making love to
was but bones, bones and smiling skull
What the priest did
And the priest came forth
And warned Ogiwara of the danger
The ravishing young girl
was the ghost Otsuyu
And a prayer he placed on the door
so she can never come in
even when invited in
Otsuyu’s song
O Ogiwara
my heart and flesh
yearns for you
on previous nights
you welcomed me in
but now you have doors
shut against me
was all your love
false, false as our days?
O Ogiwara
my heart and flesh
trembles for yours
on previous nights
you cried as we made love
you cried that you had found
beauty and joy
but now you let me stand
crying out in the cold
was all your love
false, false as our days?
O Ogiwara
if I may not come in
open the door
and come with me
What the children saw
This morning we
went playing across the fields
and at the graveyard
And there in an open grave
there we saw Ogiwara’s corpse
breaking, rotting
but his blue cloak still round him
And we saw his corpse
embraced by a woman
but she was but bones, bones and smiling skull
and the two were entwined
limb over limb
and the skull-woman he was with
she hissed at us
and she said: “Go away, children…Go away…”
and she was but bones, bones and smiling skull
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 6:32 AM UTC
'Mid my gold-brown curls
There twined a silver hair:
I plucked it idly out
And scarcely knew 'twas there.
Coiled in my velvet sleeve it lay
And like a serpent hissed:
"Me thou canst pluck & fling away,
One hair is lightly missed;
But how on that near day
When all the wintry army muster in array?"
3k
I realize that when you asked me to feed your two calicos
while vacationing, I wasn’t given title to pluck four large
tomatoes from your perfectly trained vines.
The tomatoes were Christmas red, unbruised
and husky. It seemed criminal and unfair
to my palate not to devour them
by dusk the day I stole them;
in my shallow defense
both of your cats
repeatedly hissed
at me when fed.
Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 6:25 AM UTC
It's been a while and I haven't slept
I'm too cold now and I haven't wept
The numbness gave way to madness
And now I'm feeling fine
Now I smile once in a day Isn't it a good sign
But the urge to take a hit makes me weak and dissipated
It never let go of me even though I truly waited
And I'm slowly walking towards the edge of my story
Ready to fly for a while before I take a fall
Life is scattered In a nightmare
But I don't have the strength to burn it all
And I'm slowly losing sanity
Yesterday I saw a cow fly
It hissed at me like a snake
It hurts that it didn't even say goodbye
Before it took off for the meadows
Where I hope it gets beaten by the troll and dies
Enough of my sweet dreams
I'm not delusioned enough to believe 'em to be real
But I'm getting cold and old now
There is just no way that I can heal
And I fade away like the dinosaurs
But not as cool 'cause there's no super-volcano or a meteorite
And cobain told me I should burn away
Something about burning and showing them light
It's better to burn than to fade away
He wrote on his suicide note
Gun-shot or a nuclear holocaust
I seriously need some votes
I can't make my mind about how this stupidity might end
And to go out as decently as I can
Those religious folks I don't Want to offend
Or they'll waste everyone's time preaching about a god thats just too bored to even care
If he's there somewhere maybe of earths existence he's not even Aware
We're so tiny, I wonder if he can even see ourselves
Tell 'em apple guys to gift him an iPhone , so he can google himself
And see for himself that 'porn' is more googled than him
That he has lost his crown
All of the religious folks reading This ****
Please , don't frown
But still, in-spite of my pleas if you still want to
Fine , go ahead
Just letting you all know I'm 'gonna sin again
There's a girl on my bed
and I think you can make it out where it'll lead
I know I know , I'm going to hell and I'm never 'gonna be freed
But who cares
its not like they're 'gonna give em girls to me in heaven
There's no point to refuse now
And On the other hand someone said we can do whatever we Want to
Than hey , why is this **** even going down ?
I told you I'm deranged but you didn't believe
It was nice letting it all out and now I can sleep
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
"You're gambling death."
The skeleton laughed.
While shuffling a deck of cards,
the skeleton sat across from me.
Grinning.
I was starting to feel uncomfortable..
No.
Maybe the right word is trapped?
How did he get here?
"I don't gamble."
I snapped to the bones that configured the human skeleton sitting across from me...
in my bed.
"That's sad."
He sounded really sincere.
But still he was smiling,
Still he was lingering.
And as of now, I was getting a tiny bit mad.
I just wanted this thing to leave....
"If I were you I wouldn't want to loose this game." He hissed.
Of corse with a skeletal smile
that presented teeth such as those of a crocodile.
I watched the bones of his hand through the corner of my eye as he spoke reaching for a card.
Noticing that the crevices of his bones were flooded with dust.
"Any old memories you want to reminisce?"
He said it mockingly.
He continued,
"Nothing to say, boy?"
"You're covered in enough dust to have plenty stories for us both, bones. Go on head and get us started won't you?"
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
In the greenest meadow,
With the clearest stream,
And the bluest sky,
There lived a lion.
His mane golden and his teeth white.
He had not yet tasted the flesh of deer.
On the other side of the meadow,
There lived a doe.
Her fur was a silken brown.
She knew not of lions.
The lion saw the doe, and was in awe.
She was clean, she was beautiful.
He wanted a taste.
He spoke to her in low, calming tones.
Speaking to her lovely lies.
He said he craved a taste of her flesh.
She fell for the lion.
The doe wanted to please the lion.
She offered him a taste.
So he tasted.
But the lion couldn't control his hunger.
He tore at her flesh.
Wounding the deer.
The green grass turned red.
The sky grew dark.
When he had enough, he got up.
He looked at her.
He growled, he hissed, he walked away.
He wanted no blame for his own doing.
The doe nursed her wounds.
And the water turned red.
She grew strong again.
Washed clean by the stream.
The grass green again.
The sky blue.
But her scars remained.
The silken fur turned ragged.
The doe had a friend.
One with much shinier fur.
One more beautiful than she had been.
One that was unable to stand on her own.
Her friend was weak.
Weary from running.
She also did not know of lions.
The doe told her of the lion.
Showed her the scars.
Her friend saw, and hated the lion.
Or so she said.
The sky grew dark again.
The lion came back.
His mane with deep red in it.
His teeth bloodstained.
The doe was wary.
The doe knew he was flesh-hungry.
Her scars ached.
And she knew.
Her friend was in danger.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
I met Virginia in a wave of sleet.
On Decatur, a hundred winters ago,
with a black iris, black hair in ponytail,
with a tongue like a nightcrawling widow,
Virginia whispered tornados behind the backs of the
grey-suited saxophone players, going blue in the cheeks,
under their blackface.
Under a flimsy sheet of moon sliver sky and a dim streetlight,
Virginia kicked a soda can along the cracking concrete.
With each bar we passed, I hollered, "Thank God we're alive!"
and danced a shapeless jig.
Near Williamson cemetery, Virginia's white knuckles laced into mine.
"The amount of time we have cheapens whatever purpose we have,"
Virginia hissed.
I caressed her serpentine neck.
A lone car's high beams
made Virginia's silhoutte tower above the cemetery gates,
made Virginia's black irises madden to poisonous yellow.
She loosened my grey necktie.
I let down her hair.
A sea of collected strands fell
like a closing curtain.
The distant saxophone ascended to heaven,
leaving me below,
leaving me below,
leaving me to spend the night bellowing for above.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 4:35 AM UTC
This ship docked in my lonely harbour
It was the prettiest catamaran I'd ever seen
Delighted the captain shouted it's name
"The EDB" his hazel eyes beamed
He was filled with beauty inside and out
And with his withdrawal came pain, no doubt
After him came the figure that was the real mystery
With charm and charisma he came to me
"Hey my name is Jay, okay if I docked at your bay"
Flashing an award winning smile
I couldn't resist
"Ofcourse! ofcourse!" I instantly hissed
However it was the storm that he brought along I wish I had missed
I couldn't bare another heartbreak
No more vessels I'd tell the rest to skate
But then M/V Drew came through and blew me away
With a saddened heart I knew I could not allow him to stay
My dock just suffered two terrible shocks
No more, no more I want off these rocks
Today was it my day to be free
To embrace the ocean, find a ship that loves me
Beyond the horizon floated my chance at more
It was finally my time to leave Heartbreak Shore
- (jrew)
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 11:02 AM UTC