Narrative Poem

I'm thankful for a lot of things.
I'm thankful to be here at this moment because nothing can change how happy I am for writing this, for all of you. Having a moment with me because I'm sharing this moment, with you. It sounds A bit unique yet, a tad bit Discreet - if you know what I mean. You will only see it because the meaning is behind us both. We can capture any moment together. We can capture the entire World.
The only downfall of it all is that we can't hold onto it with our hands because things don't last forever and eventually, there will be a better opportunity making its way, so please take the time, by allowing something different between you and I and embrace it, While it continues to unfold.
I'm happy today because tomorrow is another day;
Another day that I will live; Another day to Embrace.
It's moments like this that I can just capture with just one click and maybe, with a few words to say.
None of us can control the outcome towards anything yet, we do have a choice; the choice to feel anything towards it.
It's a chance to choose anything. It can be either simple, or tragic but overtime it'll come off a bit misleading, but Hey, perfection doesn't survive because it doesn't exist so just allow it, to smother itself slowly and eventually, You'll forget it.
It is a blessing to continue this Journey and I Love that I get to share it, with all of You because nothing will be more wonderful than sharing Something Beautiful;
To Share all the elements of creativity, or to share something that's driven within' my soul.
I Love it.
I Adore it, and I thank you for allowing me to share this moment.
So remember my words because this is a moment;
A moment, you will all share with me. Nothing can change what was created between you and me. It will live on until the Afterlife because all this Beauty was created from within' these words so eventually, they will live on because we have shared them together.
That's something Beautiful because it stands in - between You and I. And that's the only thing That'll last Forever because blessings never fall apart, even when things collide.

Gather  around and listen while I speak,  
Speak of a black widow with a poison so sweet.
Infecting everyone and pulling them into her web.  
This tale has been told for generation long before I was born.

She's going around and infecting every fool, foolish enough to put his dick into her.
She's at the corner of every street,  
She's in every bar, in every car, in every bed.
Her beauty has made her the shebeen  queen.  
She has a Coca-Cola bottle curves, tennis ball cleavage  
And yellow mellow thighs.  
Mini-skirts, long lashes and high heels.  
She is the thing of the night.  
Every man wants to put her hand on her,  
She dances on their laps and whispers to them "let's get out of here".
She spreads her legs wide open and holds nothing back.
If you use a condom she'll  tell you that's not her thing
She wants to feel you flesh to flesh.
Then she has you right there.
Another victim riding her hearse.
It's not her fault she wasn't born this way.  
She was once a beautiful child who feared god.
She was a top student in her class with the highest grades.
She had dreams of being a model and walk the runway.  
But one day coming back from school on her way home.  
When she's just about to take one last corner.  
The last thing she heard was _fotsek sfebe_ (fuck off bitch).  
Then they were all over her, one by one they followed.
ripping deep into her, taking her virginity along with them.  
She cried, she cried out to god but a knife on her neck she was told not to make a sound.  
Blood coming out of her but none of them cared.  
They slashed a scar on her face and told her she won't be wanted by any man.
What seemed like an eternity, while a she was lying there,  
Came by a man, she thought she had found a helping hand.  
But when he saw the state she was in he turned around and ran.  
From that moment on she sore  to take her revenge on every man.  
This is the trilogy of the black widow and this is how it all began.  
  
 

Wards of stoic walls wrap around the perimeter
gryphon sentries set with eagle eyes sporting wings as
ash grey instances of rebellion pass historic memory  
clubs and war-hammers hung, pike and sword  
   
withering vines die outside beneath a window  
 ...and this is where I find myself...  
beholden by the many layers of family guilt   
stuck as vagabond being lifeless to the tree   
 
weary, my mind went off to twelve years ago   
arguing with brothers, fighting off their masculine sides   
too tempted by bullshit they swarmed, believing it cathartic  
kicking me over Longfellow and cracking wise to my pain   
   
there had been whispers, having heard Toms musings   
all of Aunt Louisa's little darlings holed up like baseball players  
turning circles in the kitchen,  as I began to make my entrance  
in wiles gone lame ..................................this had to be the worst  
 
their grins plastic as their minds, we shook in repeal  
we each cast a shadow,  with thoughts to our beloved father  
keeping silent with fact that, last together was with dad  
swimmingly profane was this display, hunkered by a childhood disservice   
 
an accident of birth brought me to their world, they never let me forget  
cutting boards mock me, siblings stutter to talk, not one cared  
as we barely make eye contact, letting in the old hatreds  
we speak disdain dealing with it better as these are loathsome creatures  
 
filing in begins upstairs, we hear footsteps that reach finding seats  
uncles up there sold rivers of sweat piecing this house together  
old men blinking enter slither to corners, huddling electric baseboard heaters  
how many shawls wrapping shoulders does it take to fill a rest home  
 
things we know by shuffling sound, ones home creaks in perfect tongue  
it lets You know by board or by stir , size, place and pace, animal or human  
...and that up there is uncle Julius, knowing in mumbles that muffle through floor  
storied escapades run rampant of that man, times of riding shotgun, times of rum  
 
in the midst of all this piss and vinegar, it was my brothers drink that had my intentions  
one flick of my wrist in which a toxin shall remedy all, my past and future problems  
like circling hyenas set upon carcass their egos bulge barking about when they beat me  
senseless jerks pandering, laugh and look away as I splash my love upon Your fate  
 
no other brothers deserve this fate better than they, as every bottle gets added magic  
service in less than thirty was keeping my mind afire, no one more alive  
I barter a beer flicking open bottle-top,  settling my eyes on each one of them  
a wobbling knee, a swallowing tongue, my cursive handwriting mailing notes  
 
on the loveseat a sigh bores, the heave and tally ho , loss and eyes close  
whilst I giggle victory yet insulate within me, for no other brother notices  
I take another swig savoring, the limp of the other one enticed by a chair  
I stare into what's left of the eyes, as they lilt last of kin, this smile I surrender  
 
finishing my bottled brew an only son brushes past and present  
O pine wooden stairs I climb as king, deliver me unto the light  
doors to other realities open with ease, as locks behind me bolt  
The foul stench rotting in black molded thoughts, suddenly gone  
 
the entrance of the only son was hailed by family and friend  
"how are You?",  "Your father always loved You", "where are Your brothers"  
Shrugs my shoulders know well, as posed grief proclaims from podiums  
prayers laid and incense burned we lay to rest all past sins  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

that was the year I won the lotto
the year the best animal parts fell away
and I emerged, monstrously hairless,
my pale belly hanging
and my dick swinging like a spear

that year I learned to walk upright
and strutted the oily sand in bermuda shorts
and farted without apology
and cocked my hat to one side
and sucked vigorously the teat of righteous consumer glory,
snuggling ever deeper into its perfumed lap of luxury

that year I learned I deserved it all
based on passages from the word of god
and accepted my position of dominion
and killed the fatted corn fed calf
and stuffed my swollen belly with its flesh
while its sweet, hot fat dribbled down my chin
and solidified along the walls of my coronary arteries

that year I had all the young women
or tried to anyway,
buying them fine meals and jewelry
and getting very close to a roll in that magical, youth spun hay
until the wife smelled the truth
and became suddenly self righteous
as though she herself had not wallowed
in the sumptuous spa-like bath of decadence
the gods had so generously provided

that was the year the shit hit the fan,
the year she pulled out all the stops
and hired the better lawyer
and i fell like some sort of doomsday comet
burning through the stratosphere
like a goddamned steaming ball of white hot hell

the year i sold the Cadillac and the condo
and the Arnold Palmer Prestige irons
only to wind up here, watching your fine young butt
flit and waggle behind the bar
and wishing i was still a human being
and not just another tired old chump
worrying over this month's rent

I stand tall amidst a maelstrom of adversity.
It spins on all sides but my eyes see
every spin of every wind. The thunder, the  
flashes threaten but I see only the future.  
I hear the cries, the pleads that whirl about  
me but I only feel now, the moment.  
I rise above the storm to that pillar visible    
to the entire world and it’s people.  
“Hear me my people, I am Brigit,  
Queen of this moment”.  
The vision can only be seen by the    
female heart yearning to be one with destiny.  
Each girl, collecting wild flowers,  
each mother, with child at her breast  
and each matron imparting the    
wisdom of the ages, will see herself    
standing up high. Each see, in Brigit,    
what they want to see in themselves,  
strength, resolve and commitment to    
meet each challenge with courage.  
Women’s strength transcends men’s    
ability to understand. In that moment    
when dragons roar and breathe their  
fire, we’ll step into the inferno    
while men retreat. We’ll slay the    
threat while others cower and hide.  
“Feed on the fear, my sisters.    
Let it fill you with the courage to fight    
and the will to prevail.    
Look to the sky, every year at Imbloc,    
when flowers grow and life renews.  
I will appear on this pillar, to remind    
you, that you are me and I am you,    
that we are one today and forever.  
Be proud, be strong, be true”.

Said the poet in his desperate hour:

A supplication to the gods who feast
upon the pain-varietals of man;
An entertaining tease to pass the time
as ages wilt and rot eternally.
I sing a song that you may slake the thirst,
or rather, give you cause to let it slip
your mind, a willed omission. In repense,
confer upon you something to be told
when you, your greatest cravings cannot sate.
Thus is what I offer greater still
than any fleeting bliss you may derive
from all my fleeting mortal agony.

Though well you know the Earth in final hours,
succumbs, below, to man’s advanced disease,
I doubt you’ve heard of Fe, it’s matron high
and tireless devotee to her kin.
A hidden gem beneath the soot that smears
the earth; the faintest smile of love upon
The face of those that perish bearing young.
What horror could befall this votary wife
and tireless toiler in her family’s name
to cause her to neglect her constant watch
and lead her to this humble bar to drink?
A drunkard wanders near her, beckoning
through slurry tongue and eyes half cocked, for drink--
his plea is met with silence like a grave.
In hanging air, he senses her reply,
begins to set his sights on someone else,
when lifting up her head she thus replies:

Alright, I’ll keep you in your slurry state,
enhance your blurry eyes with further smear
on one condition: carry what I say
and tell the family of the one I held
and buried in the woods surrounding. Lest
my guilt should go untold, their anger stayed
when payment through my heart should rightly pass.