OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Aug 2017 10:33pm
14th Aug 2017 10:33pm
Massacre of Innocents: Herod's Decree
Written for David McLeod's "Serial Killer" comp)
“Go, ye, by way of
Bethlehem
mine foot-soldiers, for
the tongues of Magi
loosed words of a king
in the night.
I, Herod, am Lord
and King,
my empire a bloodbath
of victories.
There shall be no other
King
and their hearts
shall be as meat on stakes,
the suckling males…..
Hie and make haste,
lest the babes see the dawn
of their years
to usurp me.
Let hoof-beats shake
the land
and ev’ry door rattle
in fear,
systematic...
“Go, ye, by way of
Bethlehem
mine foot-soldiers, for
the tongues of Magi
loosed words of a king
in the night.
I, Herod, am Lord
and King,
my empire a bloodbath
of victories.
There shall be no other
King
and their hearts
shall be as meat on stakes,
the suckling males…..
Hie and make haste,
lest the babes see the dawn
of their years
to usurp me.
Let hoof-beats shake
the land
and ev’ry door rattle
in fear,
systematic...
15 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Jul 2017 2:09am
25th Jul 2017 2:09am
Sepia
Written for From The Ash's "Color Association" comp)
It always fascinated me,
as a child, the brown-toned lithograph
of Jesus that hung in the church
kitchen, while Grandma and I
prepared the brown-toned coffee for
the after sermon social hour.
Famous print, but a little
too Caucasian, and
not enough Israeli Jew, lineage
from which our Lord
hailed.
His eyes, askance, still managed
to bore right through
the flesh, and I found Him again,
decades later, atop dumpster-destined
rubble ...
It always fascinated me,
as a child, the brown-toned lithograph
of Jesus that hung in the church
kitchen, while Grandma and I
prepared the brown-toned coffee for
the after sermon social hour.
Famous print, but a little
too Caucasian, and
not enough Israeli Jew, lineage
from which our Lord
hailed.
His eyes, askance, still managed
to bore right through
the flesh, and I found Him again,
decades later, atop dumpster-destined
rubble ...
36 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Jul 2017 1:35am
25th Jul 2017 1:35am
Aura
written for Aemelia's "Walk In Silence: Ian Curtis tribute" comp)
Haunted eyes, spoon-moons,
loomed
from a cherub face, while
an elder man’s voice
echoed within a boy’s throat.
Did the dead souls, speak
in muffled tones when
the fog came down, and
embraced your static mind?
The triggers were never removed, and
a baby’s hand grew into
womanhood, clicking
the shutter of her camera, trying
to pause life for a number
of moments.
Why didn’t you cry out?
There was no shame in what
you couldn’t...
Haunted eyes, spoon-moons,
loomed
from a cherub face, while
an elder man’s voice
echoed within a boy’s throat.
Did the dead souls, speak
in muffled tones when
the fog came down, and
embraced your static mind?
The triggers were never removed, and
a baby’s hand grew into
womanhood, clicking
the shutter of her camera, trying
to pause life for a number
of moments.
Why didn’t you cry out?
There was no shame in what
you couldn’t...
21 reads
4 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
15th Jul 2017 3:14am
15th Jul 2017 3:14am
Eyeless Honeys
Written for Devlin's "Demonic Dolls" comp)
We are the dollies
we’ve come a-calling
but where have our irises gone?
Listen—we’ll sing our song.
Just pull the string and watch our heads spin,
cackled giggles, pulls you in
La La La La—here we go, now!
We’ll flick and flutter
our eyelids, shudder
for there is nothing there
but blackened, shadowed air
where our eyeballs were
(you’ll lose yours, just like her…)
La La La La—here we go, now!
Pick-a-poke
We’ll watch you choke
when our fingers crawl right in— ...
We are the dollies
we’ve come a-calling
but where have our irises gone?
Listen—we’ll sing our song.
Just pull the string and watch our heads spin,
cackled giggles, pulls you in
La La La La—here we go, now!
We’ll flick and flutter
our eyelids, shudder
for there is nothing there
but blackened, shadowed air
where our eyeballs were
(you’ll lose yours, just like her…)
La La La La—here we go, now!
Pick-a-poke
We’ll watch you choke
when our fingers crawl right in— ...
44 reads
10 Comments
DARK POEM
Published
12th Jul 2017 9:26pm
12th Jul 2017 9:26pm
Sideshow
written for Devlin's "Demonic Clowns" comp)
In the wind, in the wind
I will come again.
In the wind, in the wind
I won’t tell you when.
Hey—I was the sideshow.
Hey—where did the kids go?
Hey---now, only I know.
Hey—the fairgrounds dust, blows…
On the side, on the side
where the shadows, reel.
On the side, on the side
wooden fence paint, peels.
Hey—I was the sideshow.
Hey—come to my mouth hole
Hey—now let your hand go
In—will it hurt? Oh no!
Do you see, do you see
all the clowns like me? ...
In the wind, in the wind
I will come again.
In the wind, in the wind
I won’t tell you when.
Hey—I was the sideshow.
Hey—where did the kids go?
Hey---now, only I know.
Hey—the fairgrounds dust, blows…
On the side, on the side
where the shadows, reel.
On the side, on the side
wooden fence paint, peels.
Hey—I was the sideshow.
Hey—come to my mouth hole
Hey—now let your hand go
In—will it hurt? Oh no!
Do you see, do you see
all the clowns like me? ...
57 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Jul 2017 6:03pm
1st Jul 2017 6:03pm
Vessel
Written for Missy's "Knockout" comp, final round)
There is no choice but
to breathe and
to write—
Neither pen nor
words
are mine, yet
I pull forth what
is already written, in some
era before existence.
Letters hung in ancient
scrolls, arrange
themselves in phrases,
conduit-ready, for
their Kairos moment.
I am their vessel,
their Earth Mother, and
in return for birthing, I
am given glowing moons and
the hiss of waves upon shores.
I have had railroads
that disappeared into brush,...
There is no choice but
to breathe and
to write—
Neither pen nor
words
are mine, yet
I pull forth what
is already written, in some
era before existence.
Letters hung in ancient
scrolls, arrange
themselves in phrases,
conduit-ready, for
their Kairos moment.
I am their vessel,
their Earth Mother, and
in return for birthing, I
am given glowing moons and
the hiss of waves upon shores.
I have had railroads
that disappeared into brush,...
49 reads
7 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Jul 2017 3:23am
1st Jul 2017 3:23am
Plastica
written for the 'Hairdo's" comp)
Don't have to comb it,
wash or hair-foam it.
It's plastic like my smile,
I'm Ken and I sure own it.
Ooo-bop-baby
I drive Barbie crazy,
brown or blonde waves
makes the dolls insane.
Molded from a patent,
Mattel--oh what a racket;
assembly line locks
touch the collar of my jacket.
Ooo-bop-baby
I drive Barbie crazy,
surfin' in the waves--
all my hair stays in place.
I'm Ken and I am groovin'
hair like PVC tubing
Ooo-bop-baby
never needs a shaving. ...
Don't have to comb it,
wash or hair-foam it.
It's plastic like my smile,
I'm Ken and I sure own it.
Ooo-bop-baby
I drive Barbie crazy,
brown or blonde waves
makes the dolls insane.
Molded from a patent,
Mattel--oh what a racket;
assembly line locks
touch the collar of my jacket.
Ooo-bop-baby
I drive Barbie crazy,
surfin' in the waves--
all my hair stays in place.
I'm Ken and I am groovin'
hair like PVC tubing
Ooo-bop-baby
never needs a shaving. ...
46 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Jun 2017 7:31pm
25th Jun 2017 7:31pm
That's Why They Call Me.....
written for the next round in Missy's Knockout Comp)
I noticed you were in a hurry,
and I pondered
your fortune for
being so….
I can walk
in the shadows, you know;
would you like to
see how?
Come touch my hand, and
you’ll….
you’ll see into the room
behind my eyes.
I go there often, to
view the ocean channels where
my submarine once sliced
through dark waters near
Normandy.
They bombed us too, when
we arose from the currents—
and I inhaled their mustard gas, ...
I noticed you were in a hurry,
and I pondered
your fortune for
being so….
I can walk
in the shadows, you know;
would you like to
see how?
Come touch my hand, and
you’ll….
you’ll see into the room
behind my eyes.
I go there often, to
view the ocean channels where
my submarine once sliced
through dark waters near
Normandy.
They bombed us too, when
we arose from the currents—
and I inhaled their mustard gas, ...
43 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Jun 2017 11:16pm
24th Jun 2017 11:16pm
What's Eating You
written for the "Mushrooms" comp)
What's Eating You
He browsed them all, methodically, clipboard
in hand, making
careful check marks and
notes--
mostly insects,
ants, worms and depending
on length of stay, molds
would appear; Aspergillus
in contrast to waxy pallors.
His favorite was 29A, left in the shade
of an oak--
fascinating. . .
how full toad stools had sprouted
in the dampness of this spot, right
through the chest cavity;
wet, greasy shades of beige and green-tinged
grays, ready to
crumble ...
What's Eating You
He browsed them all, methodically, clipboard
in hand, making
careful check marks and
notes--
mostly insects,
ants, worms and depending
on length of stay, molds
would appear; Aspergillus
in contrast to waxy pallors.
His favorite was 29A, left in the shade
of an oak--
fascinating. . .
how full toad stools had sprouted
in the dampness of this spot, right
through the chest cavity;
wet, greasy shades of beige and green-tinged
grays, ready to
crumble ...
46 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
24th Jun 2017 3:54pm
24th Jun 2017 3:54pm
Where It Begins
written for "Beginning of the Darkness" comp)
Crow-black, picks away at hearts
with each kicked-in sand castle and
dateless prom nights, sour words
in the girls’ bathroom, meant
to sear like cigarette ash flicked
in contempt.
Lipstick never made a replica of
the lass on the pages—she grinned wildly,
boys bowed before her, while
seepage of more shadows unlocked
places inside, longing to be filled with
unnamable somethings.
Where are all the other souls
that don’t belong?
Bombs echo through cavernous thoughts ...
Crow-black, picks away at hearts
with each kicked-in sand castle and
dateless prom nights, sour words
in the girls’ bathroom, meant
to sear like cigarette ash flicked
in contempt.
Lipstick never made a replica of
the lass on the pages—she grinned wildly,
boys bowed before her, while
seepage of more shadows unlocked
places inside, longing to be filled with
unnamable somethings.
Where are all the other souls
that don’t belong?
Bombs echo through cavernous thoughts ...
74 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Poetry by MadameLavender
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Poetry by MadameLavender