Poetry competition CLOSED 11th October 2012 8:31pm
WINNER
DrearyAvenue (Niko)
DrearyAvenue (Niko)
RUNNER-UP:
marielavoue
Page:
Story time
Poetry Contest Description
Write a story in poem form
Write a poem in the form of a story, preferably a dark one.
Rules:
I know that most of these will be very long, but if it is overly long, please break it up into parts with no more than 500-600 words per part
only 3 entries per poet
You have one week
It needs a title, and a brief character description
Thanks
P.S. Sorry to those who already had story themed competitions out, I didn't do my homework before making this one. Oh well, now you all get multiple chances.
Rules:
I know that most of these will be very long, but if it is overly long, please break it up into parts with no more than 500-600 words per part
only 3 entries per poet
You have one week
It needs a title, and a brief character description
Thanks
P.S. Sorry to those who already had story themed competitions out, I didn't do my homework before making this one. Oh well, now you all get multiple chances.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/57407.jpg
[left]{Le Gitan Roux: is a haughty creole gal, mean as a rattle snake,
saucy and piquant will fight at the drop of a hat...}[/left]
Le Gitan Roux’s Juke Joint
Down in the Louisiana bayous, there is a rundown shack,
where the gypsy lives, waaay, way in the back.
On this particular day she wanted to hear the blues
at the juke joint, get down and dirty with the tunes,
So she gets in her pole raft and goes downriver,
Where she knows that guitar player always delivers.
She is haughty and as Creole as it gets
and meaner than a rattle snake in its nest,
saucy and piquant will fight at the drop of a hat,
put a root or curse on you quick as that.
Tonight her favorite blues man is playing his guitar,
doesn’t want to be bothered, by the hound dogs at the bar,
all she wants to do is hear him strum the cords, and make them wail,
so she can get down and shake all the feathers in her tail.
Now here comes some hardhead that didn’t get the message,
She turns quick and says “ Looky hea don’t mess up my visage”
“Git ta movin eh, o my mojo I will flex!”
“I put on yu de moder of all hex!”
She turned back and listened to the blues man play,
back and forth to the music, she began to sway
in her mind, he’s playing just for her
and no one dared dispute the fact
so she danced by herself this way and that.
Many a man drools at the sexy scene,
but knew better than to cross the gypsy queen.
They might wake up looking like horny toads
or find a hungry swamp rat in their toilet bowl.
It was even said, that she could make rise, the dead.
Huh! Nobody was trying to find out,
if they were stories they're being spoon fed,
or was there fact somewhere about.
The music continued to flow and play
and she danced, until the break of day.
When she was done, turned to walk a way, looked back
and blew a kiss to the juke joint’s, blues man.
“Care to play for me cher? Ses bon mon amour,
Its good luver, de gitan luv ya good today eh?...
“com play wit me…, "Laissez Le Bon Temps Roulet"
And with that, she smiled and walked away,
back to her shack she sashayed and strolled;
What about the blues man you say? Who knows?
It depends on whether or not he followed her home.
To be continued...
Le Gitan Roux (Gypsy Red)
[left]{Le Gitan Roux: is a haughty creole gal, mean as a rattle snake,
saucy and piquant will fight at the drop of a hat...}[/left]
Le Gitan Roux’s Juke Joint
Down in the Louisiana bayous, there is a rundown shack,
where the gypsy lives, waaay, way in the back.
On this particular day she wanted to hear the blues
at the juke joint, get down and dirty with the tunes,
So she gets in her pole raft and goes downriver,
Where she knows that guitar player always delivers.
She is haughty and as Creole as it gets
and meaner than a rattle snake in its nest,
saucy and piquant will fight at the drop of a hat,
put a root or curse on you quick as that.
Tonight her favorite blues man is playing his guitar,
doesn’t want to be bothered, by the hound dogs at the bar,
all she wants to do is hear him strum the cords, and make them wail,
so she can get down and shake all the feathers in her tail.
Now here comes some hardhead that didn’t get the message,
She turns quick and says “ Looky hea don’t mess up my visage”
“Git ta movin eh, o my mojo I will flex!”
“I put on yu de moder of all hex!”
She turned back and listened to the blues man play,
back and forth to the music, she began to sway
in her mind, he’s playing just for her
and no one dared dispute the fact
so she danced by herself this way and that.
Many a man drools at the sexy scene,
but knew better than to cross the gypsy queen.
They might wake up looking like horny toads
or find a hungry swamp rat in their toilet bowl.
It was even said, that she could make rise, the dead.
Huh! Nobody was trying to find out,
if they were stories they're being spoon fed,
or was there fact somewhere about.
The music continued to flow and play
and she danced, until the break of day.
When she was done, turned to walk a way, looked back
and blew a kiss to the juke joint’s, blues man.
“Care to play for me cher? Ses bon mon amour,
Its good luver, de gitan luv ya good today eh?...
“com play wit me…, "Laissez Le Bon Temps Roulet"
And with that, she smiled and walked away,
back to her shack she sashayed and strolled;
What about the blues man you say? Who knows?
It depends on whether or not he followed her home.
To be continued...
Le Gitan Roux (Gypsy Red)
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/57409.jpg
Le Gitan Roux II (c'est la fin)
"Laissez Le Bon Temps Roulet"
Le gitan roux said as she smiled and walked away,
back to her shack she strolled and sashayed;
into her swamp raft she did go,
poling it back to the shack she calls home.
She waited to see if the blues man dared follow,
but as usual the promises were hollow.
She wanted love but the story is always the same,
The men only want sex, to them it is all just a game.
She smiled, a bitter knowing smile
time had a way of catching up to those with wile.
“Ohh Blues man, mon petite cher
I could luv ya good eh, but you don care.”
She watches the alligators go by
from her porch where she catches fish at night.
Looking up at the crescent moon,
She whispers a prayer to get her a beau soon.
She is lonely and tiered of the wait,
and so turns to her voodoo book of spells,
for a conjuration that will bring love her way,
someone to love her honestly till the end knells.
A pinch of clove and some honey,
a juicy red apple and a cinnamon stick,
four pennies, is the offering, payment money
and red thread to wrap the apple with.
On a piece of parchment
she writes her hopes and wishes,
praying to the saints to grant her petition,
bring her a true love to end this condition.
In the cored apple she places the parchment wrapped
cinnamon stick pours the honey and the clove pinch
adds the four pennies wrapping it with the red thread
twenty-four times and lights a white candle stick.
Gingerly she places this on a pristine white plate
and prays for the saints grace, au fait,
pours more honey over all to sweeten the way,
hoping it will not be just another sad cliché.
Gypsy red
Le Gitan Roux II (c'est la fin)
"Laissez Le Bon Temps Roulet"
Le gitan roux said as she smiled and walked away,
back to her shack she strolled and sashayed;
into her swamp raft she did go,
poling it back to the shack she calls home.
She waited to see if the blues man dared follow,
but as usual the promises were hollow.
She wanted love but the story is always the same,
The men only want sex, to them it is all just a game.
She smiled, a bitter knowing smile
time had a way of catching up to those with wile.
“Ohh Blues man, mon petite cher
I could luv ya good eh, but you don care.”
She watches the alligators go by
from her porch where she catches fish at night.
Looking up at the crescent moon,
She whispers a prayer to get her a beau soon.
She is lonely and tiered of the wait,
and so turns to her voodoo book of spells,
for a conjuration that will bring love her way,
someone to love her honestly till the end knells.
A pinch of clove and some honey,
a juicy red apple and a cinnamon stick,
four pennies, is the offering, payment money
and red thread to wrap the apple with.
On a piece of parchment
she writes her hopes and wishes,
praying to the saints to grant her petition,
bring her a true love to end this condition.
In the cored apple she places the parchment wrapped
cinnamon stick pours the honey and the clove pinch
adds the four pennies wrapping it with the red thread
twenty-four times and lights a white candle stick.
Gingerly she places this on a pristine white plate
and prays for the saints grace, au fait,
pours more honey over all to sweeten the way,
hoping it will not be just another sad cliché.
Gypsy red
Anonymous
"Miss Cottonmouth"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/60739.jpg
Wow! There she stood at
the end of the tropical bar,
magnificent, innocent
through the glitz and my glaze,
she was glowing, luminous,
dazzling like the brightest star.
Alluring and overpowering, she got my motor running hard,
I was going to add her to my long scorecard. I insist,
I could not resist the temptation of her looks, was not
interested in French cookbooks, European guidebooks,
or even souvenir matchbooks, I was hooked,
so I bellied up to her side with my chest hairs exposed,
almost stepped on her beautiful painted sandaled toes,
she made me shudder, twinge, I did not become unhinged and
a certain body part below the belt started to grow north. My drought was over.
I felt like a fat polecat, Lord knows where my mind was at, not stuttering,
rolling in the clover, I was the consummate play actor, she was my butter.
I could smell her musk, an hourglass body, the flowered-pattern
on her skimpy dress, I must confess, was brilliant in color,
Yes, I was a horny mess, much impressed, was on a roll I guess.
Thick copper-red hair adorned her angelic crown, she wore no frown,
beyond compare, what a pair, not fake, breath-taking, a real cupcake.
Her eyes, though slits, were stunning, cheerful hazel, and strangely, a bit cunning.
Her words flowed smoothly, her tongue swirled like a tornado in her succulent
mouth all around, certainly, I was glory-bound, in a fog, a big hound dog.
What a beautiful specimen of a sexy girl, I was going to give her the best twirl.
In a wink, I leaned over quickly and smacked her parted lips with my
signature wet, juicy, stud kiss. Her eyes widened, she and bit me hard,
warm blood trickled down my chin, what a blowhard, I felt scarred, chagrined.
My vision became blurred, words a bit slurred, a numbness and tingling
reached my cold fingertips, the apparent weakness in my knees made me feel
thirsty, but actually, I felt like vomiting instead, my head was definitely in another orbit,
I should have never thought she was a slut, now I was in a huge rut, felt it in my gut.
I was feeling dizzier, head drumming, when she leaned toward me, smiled, and
coyly said with much conviction, “Everyone gets what they deserve, you sick perv!”
My Adam’s apple tightened, danced up and with a rapid pulse, I fell straight
down, heaped to the floor and looked up in a haze, I caught just a glimpse of
her slithery nice tail end as she rapidly walked away, her mane flowing in the air,
laughing rather loudly, and drinking my over-priced cocktail with great flair.
Disappeared, now she was gone, what a moron I was, my friends were all dead on.
It was all my fault, I could not blame her for I had been warned to give her wide berth.
Her statement was correct, karma had come my way, I had to pay for my rambunctious play.
That’s what I get for trying to be a smooth Don Juan, a slick Casanova, a real Mr. Lothario,
a blabbermouth trying to get mouth-to-mouth with the legendary and very dangerous,
“MISS COTTONMOUTH.”
Bartender! Order me another round!
But this time,
I think
I’ll have
a Whiskey Sour,
not another
Snakebite, Jack!
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/60739.jpg
Wow! There she stood at
the end of the tropical bar,
magnificent, innocent
through the glitz and my glaze,
she was glowing, luminous,
dazzling like the brightest star.
Alluring and overpowering, she got my motor running hard,
I was going to add her to my long scorecard. I insist,
I could not resist the temptation of her looks, was not
interested in French cookbooks, European guidebooks,
or even souvenir matchbooks, I was hooked,
so I bellied up to her side with my chest hairs exposed,
almost stepped on her beautiful painted sandaled toes,
she made me shudder, twinge, I did not become unhinged and
a certain body part below the belt started to grow north. My drought was over.
I felt like a fat polecat, Lord knows where my mind was at, not stuttering,
rolling in the clover, I was the consummate play actor, she was my butter.
I could smell her musk, an hourglass body, the flowered-pattern
on her skimpy dress, I must confess, was brilliant in color,
Yes, I was a horny mess, much impressed, was on a roll I guess.
Thick copper-red hair adorned her angelic crown, she wore no frown,
beyond compare, what a pair, not fake, breath-taking, a real cupcake.
Her eyes, though slits, were stunning, cheerful hazel, and strangely, a bit cunning.
Her words flowed smoothly, her tongue swirled like a tornado in her succulent
mouth all around, certainly, I was glory-bound, in a fog, a big hound dog.
What a beautiful specimen of a sexy girl, I was going to give her the best twirl.
In a wink, I leaned over quickly and smacked her parted lips with my
signature wet, juicy, stud kiss. Her eyes widened, she and bit me hard,
warm blood trickled down my chin, what a blowhard, I felt scarred, chagrined.
My vision became blurred, words a bit slurred, a numbness and tingling
reached my cold fingertips, the apparent weakness in my knees made me feel
thirsty, but actually, I felt like vomiting instead, my head was definitely in another orbit,
I should have never thought she was a slut, now I was in a huge rut, felt it in my gut.
I was feeling dizzier, head drumming, when she leaned toward me, smiled, and
coyly said with much conviction, “Everyone gets what they deserve, you sick perv!”
My Adam’s apple tightened, danced up and with a rapid pulse, I fell straight
down, heaped to the floor and looked up in a haze, I caught just a glimpse of
her slithery nice tail end as she rapidly walked away, her mane flowing in the air,
laughing rather loudly, and drinking my over-priced cocktail with great flair.
Disappeared, now she was gone, what a moron I was, my friends were all dead on.
It was all my fault, I could not blame her for I had been warned to give her wide berth.
Her statement was correct, karma had come my way, I had to pay for my rambunctious play.
That’s what I get for trying to be a smooth Don Juan, a slick Casanova, a real Mr. Lothario,
a blabbermouth trying to get mouth-to-mouth with the legendary and very dangerous,
“MISS COTTONMOUTH.”
Bartender! Order me another round!
But this time,
I think
I’ll have
a Whiskey Sour,
not another
Snakebite, Jack!
Anonymous
"The Angry Power"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/61213.jpg
As I stand patiently in line, the ‘price check’ up front gives me
more time to reflect on the withdrawal I’m about to make.
It is all very clear, I’ve been waiting for this very
special day for years, I just need the gear.
My list of the necessary items is almost complete,
I’m going to catch them asleep, you’ll see,
lucky me, I know I’ll succeed,
‘cause it is my personal destiny to make world history!
Nylon rope, cable ties, duct tape, dental floss,
two extra gun magazines, and big plastic bags
lay in my wheeled steel basket,
with just the ammo to buy,
then turn out the lights,
it’s time for the show.
Now you know, there’s a reason I’m here.
Please, back up, stand clear.
Hmmm, well it started in grade school, always
bullied and punched, black eyes and sore muscles
every day, I swore they would all pay, they betrayed.
Such things made me go deep inside my head,
wishing I were dead, but instead of dying, I cried
favoring the weed to shelter me from the
incessant pain of trying, erase my dark mental stains, and ideas of shame.
Living out the days in a self-induced-inhaled coma isn’t easy,
I was forever queezy, found solace in the marching band where
I created soothing rhythms as a percussionist, making sweet sound all around.
Let me tell you, I did rock and roll beautifully ‘till the big, dumb, jock
Jake stepped on my hand intentionally. He thought it was funny,
called me a “punk sissy bunny!”
I went deeper in my hole.
Why shouldn’t I be here?
Perseverance became a constant companion, and silence,
they helped me make it to college, endure the abusive mileage.
My fun was even worse there, I swear I wanted to share all my love.
But, the young ladies were afraid to date me, thought
I was a bit creepy, but I was just extremely unique, they
were the creeps, all of them cheap stupid vamps, what tramps.
Needless to say, I struggled with grades, but with
my other friend, diligence, finally graduated, imagine me
near the bottom of my class, whoopee. Just a little overweight,
I interviewed a lot to find me a good position, some employment,
enjoyment for all my hard work, guess I was an imposition, as I heard
a company rep say under his stinking breath, “What a fat ass tub-of-lard.”
Then he laughed. Jerk. Oh, how I wanted to give him the shaft,
right through his “better-than-you” attitude that he wore so nicely
on his pretty, dimpled, perfect face.
Starting to get the picture, why I’m here?
No choices given, I finally settled on a job of convenience—
store that is, selling slurpees, beer, cheese nips, and lotto,
learned quite a lot about people’s bravado, throwing
money on the counter as if I were a monkey and
acting like they lived in Eldorado. I felt like a desperado.
They would even get pissed and blame me when I told them
we did not sell avocados. Schmucks. You see, customers treat
people like me like trash, they don’t ask for my help,
they take it by entitlement, then walk away with you
holding their bag of gold excrement. Legitimate assholes.
Now, can you understand why I’m here?
Oh, I almost forgot, my current boss Ross (he gets the floss),
shorted me on my hours this week, told me if I didn’t like it,
I could kiss his rosy red ass, go find another job, one with less pay.
Oh, I can’t wait, if he only knew his fate, maybe he would
change his petty mind, say I was great. But, it’s too late now.
He had his chance. I’m going to make him beg, even dance a jig.
I’m done playing their silly little games, they all have to pay!
So tonight, I am going to make Ross’s day. I’m also going to
reward all of the good-natured customers stocking up for
the big ball game, they’re so lame, all gonna get mauled.
I blame them for their demise, going to maim them too,
before they all die.
You see, people like us have been making deposits
all of our lives, storing up anger into vindictive memory banks
etched with pain, until our instinctive skulls burst, then we
curse and thirst for revenge. Becoming unhinged,
we binge with bloodthirsty desire, wanting to
stack bodies on hot funeral pyres. I am no liar.
My bank is now full, my cranium is cracked,
I cannot go back, it’s time for a major withdrawal.
Holy cow, no stalling, it’s gotta be quick.
Geez, I wish the stupid jerk at the cash register would hurry the “fuck” up—
Man, seems like I’ve become a prick just like them,
though time’s a ticking and I’m growing anxious,
I’m not worried, no need to be in a hurry,
they’re open 24 hours, and I’ve got
the angry power.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/61213.jpg
As I stand patiently in line, the ‘price check’ up front gives me
more time to reflect on the withdrawal I’m about to make.
It is all very clear, I’ve been waiting for this very
special day for years, I just need the gear.
My list of the necessary items is almost complete,
I’m going to catch them asleep, you’ll see,
lucky me, I know I’ll succeed,
‘cause it is my personal destiny to make world history!
Nylon rope, cable ties, duct tape, dental floss,
two extra gun magazines, and big plastic bags
lay in my wheeled steel basket,
with just the ammo to buy,
then turn out the lights,
it’s time for the show.
Now you know, there’s a reason I’m here.
Please, back up, stand clear.
Hmmm, well it started in grade school, always
bullied and punched, black eyes and sore muscles
every day, I swore they would all pay, they betrayed.
Such things made me go deep inside my head,
wishing I were dead, but instead of dying, I cried
favoring the weed to shelter me from the
incessant pain of trying, erase my dark mental stains, and ideas of shame.
Living out the days in a self-induced-inhaled coma isn’t easy,
I was forever queezy, found solace in the marching band where
I created soothing rhythms as a percussionist, making sweet sound all around.
Let me tell you, I did rock and roll beautifully ‘till the big, dumb, jock
Jake stepped on my hand intentionally. He thought it was funny,
called me a “punk sissy bunny!”
I went deeper in my hole.
Why shouldn’t I be here?
Perseverance became a constant companion, and silence,
they helped me make it to college, endure the abusive mileage.
My fun was even worse there, I swear I wanted to share all my love.
But, the young ladies were afraid to date me, thought
I was a bit creepy, but I was just extremely unique, they
were the creeps, all of them cheap stupid vamps, what tramps.
Needless to say, I struggled with grades, but with
my other friend, diligence, finally graduated, imagine me
near the bottom of my class, whoopee. Just a little overweight,
I interviewed a lot to find me a good position, some employment,
enjoyment for all my hard work, guess I was an imposition, as I heard
a company rep say under his stinking breath, “What a fat ass tub-of-lard.”
Then he laughed. Jerk. Oh, how I wanted to give him the shaft,
right through his “better-than-you” attitude that he wore so nicely
on his pretty, dimpled, perfect face.
Starting to get the picture, why I’m here?
No choices given, I finally settled on a job of convenience—
store that is, selling slurpees, beer, cheese nips, and lotto,
learned quite a lot about people’s bravado, throwing
money on the counter as if I were a monkey and
acting like they lived in Eldorado. I felt like a desperado.
They would even get pissed and blame me when I told them
we did not sell avocados. Schmucks. You see, customers treat
people like me like trash, they don’t ask for my help,
they take it by entitlement, then walk away with you
holding their bag of gold excrement. Legitimate assholes.
Now, can you understand why I’m here?
Oh, I almost forgot, my current boss Ross (he gets the floss),
shorted me on my hours this week, told me if I didn’t like it,
I could kiss his rosy red ass, go find another job, one with less pay.
Oh, I can’t wait, if he only knew his fate, maybe he would
change his petty mind, say I was great. But, it’s too late now.
He had his chance. I’m going to make him beg, even dance a jig.
I’m done playing their silly little games, they all have to pay!
So tonight, I am going to make Ross’s day. I’m also going to
reward all of the good-natured customers stocking up for
the big ball game, they’re so lame, all gonna get mauled.
I blame them for their demise, going to maim them too,
before they all die.
You see, people like us have been making deposits
all of our lives, storing up anger into vindictive memory banks
etched with pain, until our instinctive skulls burst, then we
curse and thirst for revenge. Becoming unhinged,
we binge with bloodthirsty desire, wanting to
stack bodies on hot funeral pyres. I am no liar.
My bank is now full, my cranium is cracked,
I cannot go back, it’s time for a major withdrawal.
Holy cow, no stalling, it’s gotta be quick.
Geez, I wish the stupid jerk at the cash register would hurry the “fuck” up—
Man, seems like I’ve become a prick just like them,
though time’s a ticking and I’m growing anxious,
I’m not worried, no need to be in a hurry,
they’re open 24 hours, and I’ve got
the angry power.
old dragon
a sparrow flies from east to west
a journey now complete
a tale he has to tell
with a dragon he has to meet
he lands upon a skeleton head
high upon a tree
"dragon of old please listen to me!"
they come for you, please come see"
a smell of smoke chokes the sparrow
as the dragon rises to speak
who comes for me sparrow, who walks my path?"
is it men so fragile and weak?"
the sparrow now flying round and round
whistles as loud as he can
"yes old dragon they come for you"
"a war is what they plan"
soon the tree of old
cracks and breaks in two
"fly away sparrow to see your chicks"
your life i have given to you"
slowly rising up from forest floor
old dragon starts to shout
"come men so weak and show yourself"
this my forest i want you out"
claws dig in between bones of child
wings sretch out wide
as dragon takes flight into the night
"men you better run and hide"
in a valley not far from town
men gather in armour of gold
with sword and shields blessed by church
told to be brave,be bold
a growl is heard as the dragon descends
flies over their heads
dragon of old so big and so strong
make these men wish for their beds
flames shout out from the dragons mouth
scorches the earth pitch black
men scatter and run and hide all around
"retreat we cannot attack"
claws rip and shred and teeth grind at bone
as old dragon goes to work
"this will teach you not to wander"
"where an old dragon lurks"
screams and shouts echo afar
as old dragon devours them all
but wait a lonely old monk standing one side
shouts " old dragon today you will fall"
old dragon turns to heed the call
from the monk so old and so grey
spreading his wings for all to see
he shouts"monk you must start to pray"
the monk shuffles backwards and opens a book
his toes curling around
he mumbles his words so softly he speaks
a spell he now has found
his lips tremble as old dragon decends
trevalis agor devilis gore
old dragon opens his mouth, his teeth touch hair
old dragon you be no more!"
with a shake of the earth old dragon implodes
his pieces fall far and wide
the old monk shuffles and mumbles again
come men no need to hide"
The Broken
Cold
Dark and bitter cold
That is what I feel laying there
Wet concrete
The scent of snow in the air
The smell of fresh blood around me
My body sore
The pain muted by my sleet soaked clothing
Clothing that is plastered to my body
Blood already conjealing around me
My eye is swollen, my nose throbbing
Blood continuously pooling from it
My ribs feel like they are cracked, broken
I should have kept my head down
Should have kept walking past that alley way
But the scream that I heard was so horrific
I couldn't just stand by
So slowly, I crept into the darkness
I watched these two guys tearing at this young woman
She was all cut up but still fighting them
Her legs exposed and bloodied
Bruises already forming on her wrists
Her lips cracked from being hit
Sweat caked her clothing
Tears streamd down her face
I turned my face, unable to watch
Then I heard a sharp smack
Followed by silence
I looked back from where I was hiding
The girl was laying there motionless
One guy had his pants down around his ankles
The other was standing guard
I watched as the first guy knelt down before the girl
Watched as he pushed himself between her legs
Watched as he raped her
A few moments in, she started to come to again
Again with the screaming as she realized what was happening to her
Then the guy struck her in the face
After that, all she could do was whimper
Then, abruptly, the guy ended
And with a whistle, called over the other guy
That was when the realization sunk in
They weren't through with the girl
She seemed to come to the same conclusion
She started crying out, begging for mercy
I couldn't sit by anymore
As quick as I could, I stole from my hiding place
Charged down the man who was about to harm her secondly
I tackled him, wrestling with him on the ground
The I heard a click behind me
The girl screaming,"No, no, no!"
Then, I heard the bang and knew I was this was lost
I felt a kick from behind right in my ribs
Then the guy below me punched me in the face
My glasses broken and shattered, are knocked aside
I look over at a window of an abandoned house
Finally, I felt something connect with the back of my head
At the same time, my vision went out
I lost conscienceness
Now, I am looking up at these two guys
Laying on this cold wet alley road
Why did this all have to happen this way
How am I going to get out of this
No
I don't think I have much hope left
The guy is pointing his gun at me
Speaking to me
But I can't understand
His words are all garbled, and undistinguishable
I see his finger twitch against the trigger and jump
Nothing
Why was there nothing
I would almost welcome death at this point
Then he smiles wickedly and I know death is immenant
He is just toying with me for now
I look back at the girl and vomit
Then men start to chuckle thinking this is all funny
Like they just heard a funny joke
For a moment his grip on the gun is slack
But that moment is all I need
Suddenly, I am back up on my feet
At the same time I grab the wrist of the guy holding the gun
I snap his wrist in one swift motion grabbing the gun with one hand
The other hand, well, lets just say it has already made collision
With the first guys jaw
The second guy is just standing there dumb-founded
Which in turn leaves me dumb-founded
I would have thought he would have tried to make a run for it
Hell, I would have made a run for it
Smiling the same wicked smile they gave me earlier
I pumped two into the second guy
And one in the first guys throat
A walk back over to where the girl is laying
I take her nearby coat, and place it over her face
Walking over to the gurgling guy, I do a quick search of his clothing
Where is it, where is it
Ah, found it, cell phone
911
After giving a brief detailed call, I toss the phone on the ground
I leave the alleyway
And light a cigarette
Cold
Dark and bitter cold
That is what I feel laying there
Wet concrete
The scent of snow in the air
The smell of fresh blood around me
My body sore
The pain muted by my sleet soaked clothing
Clothing that is plastered to my body
Blood already conjealing around me
My eye is swollen, my nose throbbing
Blood continuously pooling from it
My ribs feel like they are cracked, broken
I should have kept my head down
Should have kept walking past that alley way
But the scream that I heard was so horrific
I couldn't just stand by
So slowly, I crept into the darkness
I watched these two guys tearing at this young woman
She was all cut up but still fighting them
Her legs exposed and bloodied
Bruises already forming on her wrists
Her lips cracked from being hit
Sweat caked her clothing
Tears streamd down her face
I turned my face, unable to watch
Then I heard a sharp smack
Followed by silence
I looked back from where I was hiding
The girl was laying there motionless
One guy had his pants down around his ankles
The other was standing guard
I watched as the first guy knelt down before the girl
Watched as he pushed himself between her legs
Watched as he raped her
A few moments in, she started to come to again
Again with the screaming as she realized what was happening to her
Then the guy struck her in the face
After that, all she could do was whimper
Then, abruptly, the guy ended
And with a whistle, called over the other guy
That was when the realization sunk in
They weren't through with the girl
She seemed to come to the same conclusion
She started crying out, begging for mercy
I couldn't sit by anymore
As quick as I could, I stole from my hiding place
Charged down the man who was about to harm her secondly
I tackled him, wrestling with him on the ground
The I heard a click behind me
The girl screaming,"No, no, no!"
Then, I heard the bang and knew I was this was lost
I felt a kick from behind right in my ribs
Then the guy below me punched me in the face
My glasses broken and shattered, are knocked aside
I look over at a window of an abandoned house
Finally, I felt something connect with the back of my head
At the same time, my vision went out
I lost conscienceness
Now, I am looking up at these two guys
Laying on this cold wet alley road
Why did this all have to happen this way
How am I going to get out of this
No
I don't think I have much hope left
The guy is pointing his gun at me
Speaking to me
But I can't understand
His words are all garbled, and undistinguishable
I see his finger twitch against the trigger and jump
Nothing
Why was there nothing
I would almost welcome death at this point
Then he smiles wickedly and I know death is immenant
He is just toying with me for now
I look back at the girl and vomit
Then men start to chuckle thinking this is all funny
Like they just heard a funny joke
For a moment his grip on the gun is slack
But that moment is all I need
Suddenly, I am back up on my feet
At the same time I grab the wrist of the guy holding the gun
I snap his wrist in one swift motion grabbing the gun with one hand
The other hand, well, lets just say it has already made collision
With the first guys jaw
The second guy is just standing there dumb-founded
Which in turn leaves me dumb-founded
I would have thought he would have tried to make a run for it
Hell, I would have made a run for it
Smiling the same wicked smile they gave me earlier
I pumped two into the second guy
And one in the first guys throat
A walk back over to where the girl is laying
I take her nearby coat, and place it over her face
Walking over to the gurgling guy, I do a quick search of his clothing
Where is it, where is it
Ah, found it, cell phone
911
After giving a brief detailed call, I toss the phone on the ground
I leave the alleyway
And light a cigarette
