Fairy
Floating above the forest
Tiny and blue,unseen
Anger building inside
I'm going to do something mean
Slip a little powder into a giant cup
A fleshy hand reaches towards it
Gulping, adam's apple bobbing
Then realization, trying to spit
A cloud envelopes the affected man
Then a rumbling yell that almost reveals me
Pressing me flat like batter in a hot pan
Giggling, I fly away fast
The man, turning blue, spots me
His eyes bulge and he bellows
Trying to grab me as I swoop past
Laughing aloud I retreat to the forest
Taking refuge on a high branch
Feeling joyful at last.
Underwater Musk
The smell of salt
and seaweed
splattered wildly
in a sensual game,
unbalanced reckless spinning.
Water spout in gulfstream
of all men’s passions,
she shudders as patterns
are traced on her skin,
feeling ocean depth
deeply with in her body.
Waterfall words
of snakeskin temptress -
a mental undressing
of waters of needs,
bottomless and hollow,
a luscious invitation
melting like lava
from dorsal fin
of a dolphin
as she drinks
the seascape
of many men,
a receptacle for
sweet language.
Mesmerizing as
she dances on strings
in drunken moon
cascading on inky sea
eager blue eyes
with ecstatic urges.
She drinks the seascape
of promiscuity and
sensual waves.
She is one for all men
but can never be
all for one man.
Ghosts of the Machine : A Tale of Horror
Our lines down-connection lost. If I caught it at point of breakdown I entertain that I might restore full service. That never happens of course. An egoistic concept that implies I have some semblance of control. I don’t.
They rise from their slumber to fill the void I have left, each seeking pole position, only ever one victor.
I've seen this one guy a lot lately, he is relatively new on this block, maybe 8 years, maybe less.
Of all the ghosts he seems the least overblown and erratic, very brooding and sombre. He never seeks to attack though full of quiet judgement - wearing you down.
Operative I'd call him though we are hardly friends. I flail on the sidelines, tangled in the wiring when he reigns, all the while abiding and in accord with the way of things.
I see them in others also. Some see them for what they are and others believe they are the ghosts, those ones scare me the worst and I generally leave them be.
Our ghosts have surfaced on numerous occasions. I worry that one or two of yours haven't had their moment in the sun and I fear the same can be said for me, only time will tell.
All of mine are mostly redundant and outdated to the point of uselessness, there is one however, malevolent and manipulative. He’ll tempt you with his brand of honesty and self reflection then he will destroy you with his frailties.
He
Is
About
To
Publish........
Alice is Lost
Eat me, drink me
Walk through the door
I asked for no strings
And you said not to fall
But I'm nothing but a puppet
And fell down the rabbit hole
Now I'm lost and it's pointless
And I can't quite remember
How it's supposed to end
But it's not in wonderland
Standing still with time
Drinking tea with the Hatter
Although the dream's delicious
And the party was such fun
Waking up seems inevitable
The Green Murder Club
“We have to formulate a plan to stop this abuse!” the greenery shouted in misery. “We’ve had it and we’re not going to take it anymore!"
Late at night, all the sobbing plants called a council meeting to discuss the never-ending torture they suffered at the hands of Agnes who fancied herself a master gardener. “She snips, clips, and pulls us out by our roots without any empathy for the pain she causes us!” they moaned as they rubbed their cuts and bruises and curled their leaves to avoid further pain. “She has no empathy for us at all, as we scream in agony!”
“I have a plan,” offered Bud, “why don’t the indoor plants and the outdoor plants get together and call all their relatives to support us in getting revenge against Agnes?”
“Let’s call in Mandrake,” suggested another seedling. “He’s a murderous plant cousin whose roots look bizarrely like a human body. It’s rumored to pop up from dripping fat and blood of a hanged man. If it’s pulled up from the earth, it lets out a monstrous scream, bestowing agony and death to all those within earshot!”
“You’re a pistil!” laughed Petal, “Why don’t we ask Aunt Ivy and some of our other vining relatives to come, also. They could tie old Agnes up, and then we could have Uncle Poison Ivy cause tormenting rashes.”
“Sounds like a plan! chortled Stamen, “I’ll bet some of our deadly nightshade family would be glad to get a paid vacation to Florida and help us also.”
“I’m sure that Oleander and toxic Foxglove would volunteer their help!” offered Roots.
The friendly plants put their flower heads together and came up with a payback plan deciding to put it into play the following weekend.
At the stroke of midnight, all the assorted plants marched into the garden single file where they waited for the signal from Bud, the ringleader. As soon as Bud heard Agnes snoring, he beckoned with his filaments to all the outdoor plants to join the indoor ones.
Aunt Ivy crept into the house with her tendrils, completely wrapping her green beauty around the sleeping torturer, as Agnes mumbled in her sleep. Next, Poison Ivy marched in and rubbed his juices all over the wrinkled skin of the old bat. Agnes struggled to scratch her body as she began itching all over but was trapped in the wicked coils of Ivy. Bud pulled up Mandrake by his roots from the garden, causing him to let out a horrendous scream which caused such misery to Agnes that she succumbed to extreme death throes. Next, Deadly Nightshade and Oleander crawled into the crevices of her mouth to be absolutely certain that she was as dead as a door nail. Thorny then pricked her on the bottom of her feet but her stiff body didn’t move.
“Okay, gang,” offered Bud, “help yourself to the steaks and other goodies and whisky and we’ll have a celebration party.”
All night long, the plants kicked up their roots and played around with their styles and ovum as they cross pollinated in sexual bliss. Just before dawn, they all crept out and returned home.
When Agnes’ daughter found her body and called the police, they couldn’t determine the cause of death. “She must have had a heart attack, they said.
The plants that were still present giggled and slapped their stems in high fives as they planned their next green murder with glee! “We could even be paid assassins now that we’ve had experience! We’ll call ourselves the Green Murder Club!”
A True Story of Bloody Mary
I shouldn't. I get nightmares from watching Scooby-Do. I mean, I'm 7 years old and I still can't fall asleep at night after watching Ernest Scared Stupid a whole year ago! Jake was the one who talked me into that, too. But he's so much cooler and older --
"Chelsea, are you coming? We're going in."
"Uh...yeah... but you go first, Chance."
"No, you go first!"
"I'll go first," says Jake bravely.
We step into the bathroom - the same bathroom I use every day. Am I sure I want to do this to my bathroom? We three walk in.
Click. Off go the lights. We stand there. Facing the mirror. Silent. I can hear my heart beat in my ears. My legs are heavy. My hands are shaking.
"Okay, guys, close your eyes," says Jake.
All, "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary."
"Okay, open."
Chance shrieks, "Oh my gosh! It's red!"
"Do you see that?!"
I see darkness...
then a cheek...
a face!....
EYES!!!...
"OH MY GOSH!!!"
OH!
Oh...
Ohhhhhh...."Those are OUR faces!"
We all tumble out of the bathroom laughing at ourselves for being so easily frightened and thankful that that is ALL it was.
Yet, to this day, I can't walk by that mirror without wondering who's looking back.
ROPE TRICK
She looked at him quizzically
How could he love her as he did?
She was difficult
She was moody
She was overly sensitive
She was a complicated mess
of emotions and pasts,
tangled to the point of no saving
Yet, he sat there with her in his lap,
patiently and painstakingly unraveling
her complicated knots,
careful not to damage the frayed threads.
He made loving her
look like a work of art
