Bunny
I'm a singer/songwriter/self sacrificer, who sings in a dark-wave band of my creation called 'Tail From the Crypt'.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny

Delilah

Slither up to you...

Vamp, and Siren of the reef...

...Rousing my beliefs.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

1
1
0
Juice
2 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny
Delilah
Slither up to you...
Vamp, and Siren of the reef...
...Rousing my beliefs.











©
2017
Bunny Villaire 

1
1
0
Juice
2 reads
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny

Evil City

Evil city 

Taunts us

With our pleasure

Turned to pain...

...She snuffs me

Out,

On my marble 

Grave,

Like cigarettes

In rain.

...A beaten constitution

Led me down

Her many

Ducts...

...I've yet to find

Solutions,

With my humanness

In flux.

Her Mausoleum 

Holds a truth

That's hasn't been

Revealed...

...She won't sign off

On tonight's escape...

...So surrendering,

I yield!

The evil city 

Locks

Me down,

And teaches me to 

Lie!...

...I hate her, 

Though I've

Learnt to love her

Under pregnant

Skies...

...Swollen in my

Gullet 

Like a lozenge 

Time forgot.

...My city...

Devious as ever!

...Screaming 

Vacant lots

Alert the people

To assemble!...

...How could 

One deny?...

She is seduction...

...She is a promise;

Secreted from 

Our minds.

Please free me from

Overwhelming

Power!...

...This city holds

Too much

Sway upon these

Blighted people...

...Captives in her

Clutch...

...I want to live

Beyond the fences...

Somewhere 

I can be...

...My city's dead...

There's no one

Breathing...

...She's an empty

Womb of

Need.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

4
1
0
Juice
7 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny
Evil City
Evil city 
Taunts us
With our pleasure
Turned to pain...
...She snuffs me
Out,
On my marble 
Grave,
Like cigarettes
In rain.

...A beaten constitution
Led me down
Her many
Ducts...
...I've yet to find
Solutions,
With my humanness
In flux.

Her Mausoleum 
Holds a truth
That's hasn't been
Revealed...
...She won't sign off
On tonight's escape...
...So surrendering,
I yield!

The evil city 
Locks
Me down,
And teaches me to 
Lie!...
...I hate her, 
Though I've
Learnt to love her
Under pregnant
Skies...

...Swollen in my
Gullet 
Like a lozenge 
Time forgot.
...My city...
Devious as ever!
...Screaming 
Vacant lots
Alert the people
To assemble!...
...How could 
One deny?...

She is seduction...
...She is a promise;
Secreted from 
Our minds.

Please free me from
Overwhelming
Power!...
...This city holds
Too much
Sway upon these
Blighted people...
...Captives in her
Clutch...

...I want to live
Beyond the fences...
Somewhere 
I can be...
...My city's dead...
There's no one
Breathing...
...She's an empty
Womb of
Need.









©
2017
Bunny Villaire 
























4
1
0
Juice
7 reads
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Simon & Schuster is one of the world’s leading publishers and we are always looking for fresh new voices. Write a story, chapter, or essay about whatever you like. The 50 best entries will be announced by Prose and read by our editorial staff for consideration.
Written by Bunny in portal Simon & Schuster

Black Paper Behind the Mirror

The torn red sky hung like a slashed throat on display, over fanged tent tops of the bustling fairground at night.  Ethel's Amusement Park lay beneath these grisly heavens.  She was open all year long in this balmy, Louisiana climate. Her list of attractions were many, but the Mirror Maze, and lethally wicked Corkscrew blew blasts of wind through sticky shirt sleeves, and shot hair back.  After that, there was the Fortune Teller, coupled with his eccentric habits, and the Freak Show.  These drew such heaving crowds, that it was almost impossible to find one's way home through her mad throng. It was an escape from obscurity, but it was also a confrontation with the curious and eccentric sides of life that prompted people to fork over hard-earned dough at the end of the week.  

As the shifting tableau of the heavens turned from the crimson interior of a ravenous wolf’s maw to ink black, and starless, the paying public finally began rousing out of their collective trances.  One by one, they slowly became conscious of how lighter their wallets had become in their revelry. 

Daisy worked the counter at the Mirror Maze attraction all night, and her back ached to high Hell, but she didn’t show one inch of disgust. Daisy had learned to mask her pain during her life of infinite let-downs. Still no sight of her biker boyfriend, Rudy, who was usually his horniest when Daisy was at her job.  You could kick up a rock and all the cockroaches would scuttle out, followed by Rudy.  He was more than usually found, with his arm draped around some under-age thing he had recently unearthed. Though Daisy despised this, she was equally bothered by Rudy not being sighted on her entire workday this Saturday. It was unlike him to go missing entirely.  Reluctantly, she closed up, and went to greet the cab that would hustle her home to her trailer park on the edge of town.

                             

                                                                       °

Awoken by frogs, in the same suit from yesterday, Fritz had found himself in a funny position. It was funny because he had awoken with his body engulfed in foul liquid, like a toothpick dunked sideways in a Martini glass. Blackened sky signaled that many hours had gone by while he had been in this state. 

In a flash, Fritz recalled that this was the very same swamp which had long since acted as the uncombed back of the fairgrounds. Coming to his senses, he promptly righted himself to face the mud and cattail stalks. Water sloshed off of him, as his eyes went to work, trying to take stock of surroundings. 

At long last, Fritz found a hold that his fingers could grip.  A massive root shot out of the soup; ascending crookedly to the left of him, and stretched out of the swamp like a Grim Reaper's arm. Grabbing hold of the tuber, Fritz dragged himself free of the muck. 

Stumbling into the park, Fritz passed through differing New Orleans crowds in shorts and tees, spot-lit by lamps on their way home. His bobbing head inhaled the scent of fried food being tossed, as shops collectively killed lights, before turning keys on the day. 

Fritz’s vision swam in and out like the fish of the marsh in which he'd just escaped.  He was forced to collapse on a bench twenty feet behind a pair of lovers. The engaged couple seemed unaware of anything; caught up in a public display of face-suckling. Their bench was at the outer edge of the fairgrounds.  This would have made for a romantic view, if the couple weren't locked at the lip.

Eventually, Fritz grew thirsty, and righted himself on the bench.  He painfully began to hobble towards the ever merciful bottle that he yearned for.  In the midst of his stagger to the bar, Fritz came neck and neck with a reckless baby carriage, pushed frantically by an obese lady jogger. Fritz had a absurd compulsion to inspect the contents of the carriages jostled cargo.

Out of the corner of his eye, to the south of the path, Fritz suddenly witnessed a dark haired woman by the public restroom enclosure, reaching out in his direction. Fritz could see a dark, ominous figure in a cloak hovering behind the woman.

Suddenly, re-shifting his focus, Fritz took a passing gaze at the obese joggers baby carriage again, which was still quite close to him. 

The female beyond the nearest row of trees, popped back in sight.  He saw her mouth gape open, as something that shined in the night snaked into her neck, causing a red torrent of blood to spout. The weapon disappeared into the cloak owned by the figure posted behind, who just as swiftly vanished, behind the enclosure. 

Fritz’s attention was drawn back, once again, to the jogger who was finally racing ahead of him. He began to think about his own health as he witnessed this coronary accident waiting to happen. Halting himself from worry, he glanced back towards the public restrooms. He half-remembered seeing something disturbing a minute ago, and then shrugged.

                                                                              °

Big Shots Lounge was almost completely dead, except for a few regulars.  Fritz was content to be somewhere that served liquor.

“Hey, Herm, how's business?”

“Don't know, don't care.  If I paid attention to the heaps of shit who pissed their lives away in this Sea of Death, I'd take a long walk off a short pier. Hey, is it true you screwed the pooch last night?” 

A couple of the regulars chuckled evilly as Herman worked the inside of a mug with a rag.

“Where'd you hear that?”

“Oh, some dame, likes to flap her worn-out gums. She seem pretty crazed, said she seen you over at Sally's, and they had to toss you outta the joint on account of your condition. I think she claimed you tried to take some of her clothes with you on the way out.”

“Hand to God, Herman, I don't remember a thing about yesterday, but if I was in Sally's I had to be drunk. I'll have a Jack and ice.”

When Herm reluctantly nudged the glass with the drink towards Fritz, he tipped it back, taking a strong pull before returning it to it's paper napkin.

“Christ, that's just what I needed. Anyone call for me?”

“Now you know damn well I don't take to being anyone's secretary, especially not dead-shits. I told you enough. Now that we made with civilities, and you drank your drink you can officially screw 'til you settle up.”

“Why all the hostility, Herm? Do you see flies circling around me like your other loyal patrons?”

“Pay your tab or get lost!”

“Later, Herm. Much later.”

Fritz surrendered to returning home to face his demons. He passed over the hotel mat, and smacked the door closed behind him.  His place was a disarray of tiny, hateful projects, like washing dishes.  Fritz was obsessed with his divorce, that little things seemed like mountains. Fritz peered into the mirror above the sink in his John at the shaded, chaparral of his face.  The hair on his head, on the other hand, was thinning like it was on a race, and he was only twenty three. 

Suddenly, the phone went off, saving him from his courtship with the hole of his life.

“Yay, this is Fritz.”

“We know vat you did vith Herr Labin, and ve are prepared to take vurther actions if you don't take a meeting with us, and eeksplain yourself.”

Although Fritz was mentally shook by the accusing voice on the phone, he recognized it somehow, at the base of his almost blank memory. If he wanted answers he had to address the voice at the other end. He swallowed some saliva, and put his ear to the receiver once again.

“Uh...is this regarding something that happened last night?”...

...“Of course iz regarding last night you fool! Do you zink my vife will forget your perverse dizplay?  Iz questionable az to whether I'm ave to enter her into therapy, thankz to you. Now vill you, or von't you agree to meet?”

Fritz thought for an instant, reflecting on the callers voice.  A warning of insanity itched at the back of his mind. Whatever the threat, Fritz was intent on finding answers to mysteries that shrouded the night previous. He raised the phone to his head, after sticking his pinkie in his ear, and examining it.

“I am Fritz Marrion.  Maybe you should introduce yourself, Herr whoever.”

“Meet me in zee parking-lot nearest to the dock behind Zally's in twenty minutes.  My car vill be the one with the red flag on the antenna.” 

The phone went dead instantly.  Glimpsing out the window to spy on the progress of the storm, Fritz snatched his raincoat, as he bolted out the front door.

                                                               

                                                                      °

Daisy's upper lip twitched involuntarily, as she ran a comb through hunks of hair, in front of a smeared mirror, in preparation for her job.  She had had these spasms since she was kidnapped three years ago by a cult of nuns dubbed 'Saviors of Divine Light' when she was pregnant with child. Her nosy parents had alerted the sisters when they had guessed that Daisy was rethinking giving birth.  Afraid of what Daisy would do, they had her bound and gagged, and hustled into a station wagon by mad ladies.  They continued to chant 'Hail Mary' after they had tossed Daisy, like a bound bushel of hay; slamming their foot on the gas, and careening off to an undisclosed destination. 

Shook from her trance by some child calling out to distant parents, Daisy found herself gripping the restroom sink, and staring into the drain as if it were a light beam.  It reminded her of the space-ship she saw on the outside of the dormitories on the night she had fled for the highway. A brilliant spot-light from the bottom of it’s hull poured down on her, as she stood frozen in fear. Finally, with much effort, she adjusted her required bow-tie, and stepped onto the Fairground, heading in the direction of the Mirror Maze. On her way there she thought for a instant of the lump that she had left in the supply closet before sprucing herself for work. It brought the faintest flicker of a smile to her face, before memory was plunged back into a black envelope.

The ferris wheel was waiting from above, with it’s circuit of conflicted lights flashing.  Similar lights had fallen on her earlier when she'd killed Lucy.  They danced in differing patterns on her dress, as she drained life from Ms. Perkins behind a crop of dead trees.  Heat flushed her cheeks, as she watched what was left of Lucy spill out on concrete near the stalls. Daisy looked up, feeling a conscious recognition of being watched. She immediately identified Fritz, who had taken a trip through her maze a few times this last month.  A stray cat suddenly darted off behind Lucy, and broke Daisy from her machinations. Yanking tarp around the corpse, she made quick work of concealing her in the restroom in it's maintenance closet. Luckily for her, most of the park workers used the bathrooms closer to the park exit, because this particular one had a sour odor, and a nasty habit of overflowing. While she worked, her mind returned to the Russian accent of one of the most intimidating nuns in the Divine Light cult from her pregnancy years. She tried to sound out vowels, and put stress on the particular letters that she featured in her dialect. 

It would not be long after this, that she would become cosy in a few of the local dives. Here she would hear from a vaguely conscious bar fly of how Fritz had drunk more than his usual limit the previous night, and wandered off in a blind stumble towards Ethel’s Park.

(To be continued...)

©

2017

Bunny Villaire

                                                                     

7
2
4
Juice
23 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Simon & Schuster is one of the world’s leading publishers and we are always looking for fresh new voices. Write a story, chapter, or essay about whatever you like. The 50 best entries will be announced by Prose and read by our editorial staff for consideration.
Written by Bunny in portal Simon & Schuster
Black Paper Behind the Mirror
The torn red sky hung like a slashed throat on display, over fanged tent tops of the bustling fairground at night.  Ethel's Amusement Park lay beneath these grisly heavens.  She was open all year long in this balmy, Louisiana climate. Her list of attractions were many, but the Mirror Maze, and lethally wicked Corkscrew blew blasts of wind through sticky shirt sleeves, and shot hair back.  After that, there was the Fortune Teller, coupled with his eccentric habits, and the Freak Show.  These drew such heaving crowds, that it was almost impossible to find one's way home through her mad throng. It was an escape from obscurity, but it was also a confrontation with the curious and eccentric sides of life that prompted people to fork over hard-earned dough at the end of the week.  

As the shifting tableau of the heavens turned from the crimson interior of a ravenous wolf’s maw to ink black, and starless, the paying public finally began rousing out of their collective trances.  One by one, they slowly became conscious of how lighter their wallets had become in their revelry. 

Daisy worked the counter at the Mirror Maze attraction all night, and her back ached to high Hell, but she didn’t show one inch of disgust. Daisy had learned to mask her pain during her life of infinite let-downs. Still no sight of her biker boyfriend, Rudy, who was usually his horniest when Daisy was at her job.  You could kick up a rock and all the cockroaches would scuttle out, followed by Rudy.  He was more than usually found, with his arm draped around some under-age thing he had recently unearthed. Though Daisy despised this, she was equally bothered by Rudy not being sighted on her entire workday this Saturday. It was unlike him to go missing entirely.  Reluctantly, she closed up, and went to greet the cab that would hustle her home to her trailer park on the edge of town.
                             
                                                                       °

Awoken by frogs, in the same suit from yesterday, Fritz had found himself in a funny position. It was funny because he had awoken with his body engulfed in foul liquid, like a toothpick dunked sideways in a Martini glass. Blackened sky signaled that many hours had gone by while he had been in this state. 

In a flash, Fritz recalled that this was the very same swamp which had long since acted as the uncombed back of the fairgrounds. Coming to his senses, he promptly righted himself to face the mud and cattail stalks. Water sloshed off of him, as his eyes went to work, trying to take stock of surroundings. 

At long last, Fritz found a hold that his fingers could grip.  A massive root shot out of the soup; ascending crookedly to the left of him, and stretched out of the swamp like a Grim Reaper's arm. Grabbing hold of the tuber, Fritz dragged himself free of the muck. 

Stumbling into the park, Fritz passed through differing New Orleans crowds in shorts and tees, spot-lit by lamps on their way home. His bobbing head inhaled the scent of fried food being tossed, as shops collectively killed lights, before turning keys on the day. 

Fritz’s vision swam in and out like the fish of the marsh in which he'd just escaped.  He was forced to collapse on a bench twenty feet behind a pair of lovers. The engaged couple seemed unaware of anything; caught up in a public display of face-suckling. Their bench was at the outer edge of the fairgrounds.  This would have made for a romantic view, if the couple weren't locked at the lip.

Eventually, Fritz grew thirsty, and righted himself on the bench.  He painfully began to hobble towards the ever merciful bottle that he yearned for.  In the midst of his stagger to the bar, Fritz came neck and neck with a reckless baby carriage, pushed frantically by an obese lady jogger. Fritz had a absurd compulsion to inspect the contents of the carriages jostled cargo.

Out of the corner of his eye, to the south of the path, Fritz suddenly witnessed a dark haired woman by the public restroom enclosure, reaching out in his direction. Fritz could see a dark, ominous figure in a cloak hovering behind the woman.

Suddenly, re-shifting his focus, Fritz took a passing gaze at the obese joggers baby carriage again, which was still quite close to him. 

The female beyond the nearest row of trees, popped back in sight.  He saw her mouth gape open, as something that shined in the night snaked into her neck, causing a red torrent of blood to spout. The weapon disappeared into the cloak owned by the figure posted behind, who just as swiftly vanished, behind the enclosure. 

Fritz’s attention was drawn back, once again, to the jogger who was finally racing ahead of him. He began to think about his own health as he witnessed this coronary accident waiting to happen. Halting himself from worry, he glanced back towards the public restrooms. He half-remembered seeing something disturbing a minute ago, and then shrugged.

                                                                              °

Big Shots Lounge was almost completely dead, except for a few regulars.  Fritz was content to be somewhere that served liquor.

“Hey, Herm, how's business?”

“Don't know, don't care.  If I paid attention to the heaps of shit who pissed their lives away in this Sea of Death, I'd take a long walk off a short pier. Hey, is it true you screwed the pooch last night?” 

A couple of the regulars chuckled evilly as Herman worked the inside of a mug with a rag.

“Where'd you hear that?”

“Oh, some dame, likes to flap her worn-out gums. She seem pretty crazed, said she seen you over at Sally's, and they had to toss you outta the joint on account of your condition. I think she claimed you tried to take some of her clothes with you on the way out.”

“Hand to God, Herman, I don't remember a thing about yesterday, but if I was in Sally's I had to be drunk. I'll have a Jack and ice.”

When Herm reluctantly nudged the glass with the drink towards Fritz, he tipped it back, taking a strong pull before returning it to it's paper napkin.

“Christ, that's just what I needed. Anyone call for me?”

“Now you know damn well I don't take to being anyone's secretary, especially not dead-shits. I told you enough. Now that we made with civilities, and you drank your drink you can officially screw 'til you settle up.”

“Why all the hostility, Herm? Do you see flies circling around me like your other loyal patrons?”

“Pay your tab or get lost!”

“Later, Herm. Much later.”

Fritz surrendered to returning home to face his demons. He passed over the hotel mat, and smacked the door closed behind him.  His place was a disarray of tiny, hateful projects, like washing dishes.  Fritz was obsessed with his divorce, that little things seemed like mountains. Fritz peered into the mirror above the sink in his John at the shaded, chaparral of his face.  The hair on his head, on the other hand, was thinning like it was on a race, and he was only twenty three. 

Suddenly, the phone went off, saving him from his courtship with the hole of his life.

“Yay, this is Fritz.”

“We know vat you did vith Herr Labin, and ve are prepared to take vurther actions if you don't take a meeting with us, and eeksplain yourself.”

Although Fritz was mentally shook by the accusing voice on the phone, he recognized it somehow, at the base of his almost blank memory. If he wanted answers he had to address the voice at the other end. He swallowed some saliva, and put his ear to the receiver once again.

“Uh...is this regarding something that happened last night?”...

...“Of course iz regarding last night you fool! Do you zink my vife will forget your perverse dizplay?  Iz questionable az to whether I'm ave to enter her into therapy, thankz to you. Now vill you, or von't you agree to meet?”

Fritz thought for an instant, reflecting on the callers voice.  A warning of insanity itched at the back of his mind. Whatever the threat, Fritz was intent on finding answers to mysteries that shrouded the night previous. He raised the phone to his head, after sticking his pinkie in his ear, and examining it.

“I am Fritz Marrion.  Maybe you should introduce yourself, Herr whoever.”

“Meet me in zee parking-lot nearest to the dock behind Zally's in twenty minutes.  My car vill be the one with the red flag on the antenna.” 

The phone went dead instantly.  Glimpsing out the window to spy on the progress of the storm, Fritz snatched his raincoat, as he bolted out the front door.
                                                               
                                                                      °

Daisy's upper lip twitched involuntarily, as she ran a comb through hunks of hair, in front of a smeared mirror, in preparation for her job.  She had had these spasms since she was kidnapped three years ago by a cult of nuns dubbed 'Saviors of Divine Light' when she was pregnant with child. Her nosy parents had alerted the sisters when they had guessed that Daisy was rethinking giving birth.  Afraid of what Daisy would do, they had her bound and gagged, and hustled into a station wagon by mad ladies.  They continued to chant 'Hail Mary' after they had tossed Daisy, like a bound bushel of hay; slamming their foot on the gas, and careening off to an undisclosed destination. 

Shook from her trance by some child calling out to distant parents, Daisy found herself gripping the restroom sink, and staring into the drain as if it were a light beam.  It reminded her of the space-ship she saw on the outside of the dormitories on the night she had fled for the highway. A brilliant spot-light from the bottom of it’s hull poured down on her, as she stood frozen in fear. Finally, with much effort, she adjusted her required bow-tie, and stepped onto the Fairground, heading in the direction of the Mirror Maze. On her way there she thought for a instant of the lump that she had left in the supply closet before sprucing herself for work. It brought the faintest flicker of a smile to her face, before memory was plunged back into a black envelope.

The ferris wheel was waiting from above, with it’s circuit of conflicted lights flashing.  Similar lights had fallen on her earlier when she'd killed Lucy.  They danced in differing patterns on her dress, as she drained life from Ms. Perkins behind a crop of dead trees.  Heat flushed her cheeks, as she watched what was left of Lucy spill out on concrete near the stalls. Daisy looked up, feeling a conscious recognition of being watched. She immediately identified Fritz, who had taken a trip through her maze a few times this last month.  A stray cat suddenly darted off behind Lucy, and broke Daisy from her machinations. Yanking tarp around the corpse, she made quick work of concealing her in the restroom in it's maintenance closet. Luckily for her, most of the park workers used the bathrooms closer to the park exit, because this particular one had a sour odor, and a nasty habit of overflowing. While she worked, her mind returned to the Russian accent of one of the most intimidating nuns in the Divine Light cult from her pregnancy years. She tried to sound out vowels, and put stress on the particular letters that she featured in her dialect. 

It would not be long after this, that she would become cosy in a few of the local dives. Here she would hear from a vaguely conscious bar fly of how Fritz had drunk more than his usual limit the previous night, and wandered off in a blind stumble towards Ethel’s Park.


(To be continued...)


©
2017
Bunny Villaire

                                                                     
7
2
4
Juice
23 reads
Load 4 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny

Cocksucking Final Regards

In this public

Restroom...

This mobile of

Brutality...

...This human

Toilet

Where the 

Asshole is King...

In this ruination...

...Downright 

Degradation...

I was schlepped

Through 

The whole shooting

Match

On my knees...

Guide me 

Through the

Mad riots,

Animated by 

Freezing!...

...We're all 

Locked

In our icebox...

Whilst Death comes

'a teething,

And yearning

To sew 

His final 

Slack string.

Cocksucking final

Regards!...

...Gotta go 

For his eyes,

Like roosters

In the yard...

...And when old

Daddy Dice 

Finally strikes his

Last blow...

He will know 

Primitive,

And the lengths

That I'll go.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

6
2
2
Juice
20 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny
Cocksucking Final Regards
In this public
Restroom...
This mobile of
Brutality...
...This human
Toilet
Where the 
Asshole is King...

In this ruination...
...Downright 
Degradation...
I was schlepped
Through 
The whole shooting
Match
On my knees...

Guide me 
Through the
Mad riots,
Animated by 
Freezing!...
...We're all 
Locked
In our icebox...
Whilst Death comes
'a teething,
And yearning
To sew 
His final 
Slack string.

Cocksucking final
Regards!...
...Gotta go 
For his eyes,
Like roosters
In the yard...
...And when old
Daddy Dice 
Finally strikes his
Last blow...
He will know 
Primitive,
And the lengths
That I'll go.





©
2017
Bunny Villaire 
6
2
2
Juice
20 reads
Load 2 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny

The Sequel

I tried to invent

Something new

Out of you...

...Restore,

And update

What was blocked...

I couldn't confess

That your door

Had been locked...

...Slamming me

Out!...

I was moored

By your dock.

Lost my only key,

It was all that

I had, so 

I couldn't come in,

And commune

With your plan...

I tried to invent

Something new 

Out of you...

...You were such 

A longshot.

You were far

From my view...

...But, what 

Light

Had bled in 

Could've sired a

God!...

Shouldn't have never

Had rattled

The cages

And lobbed

Expert spit balls

That slid

Down your skylight

With spite...

...You needed a 

Retread,

And a grocery cart

Push!...

Tried to summon

Live goblins

From your former

Bush

That burns in the

Desert 

Non-stop,

Without end...

There's an elder man

Sits 

By it's lively 

Allure, and 

Locked in a trance,

He extracts 

Every thread 

Of clothes on his 

Body...

...Throws his filigree

Vest 

On the flickering 

Flames!...

...Pretty soon,

He will join them.

...He does not 

Know your name,

But your living

Rejoinder

Has him questioning

All.

...How can he 

Breathe?...

Are the nights

Stacked too tall?...

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

4
2
0
Juice
5 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny
The Sequel
I tried to invent
Something new
Out of you...
...Restore,
And update
What was blocked...

I couldn't confess
That your door
Had been locked...
...Slamming me
Out!...
I was moored
By your dock.

Lost my only key,
It was all that
I had, so 
I couldn't come in,
And commune
With your plan...

I tried to invent
Something new 
Out of you...
...You were such 
A longshot.
You were far
From my view...
...But, what 
Light
Had bled in 
Could've sired a
God!...

Shouldn't have never
Had rattled
The cages
And lobbed
Expert spit balls
That slid
Down your skylight
With spite...
...You needed a 
Retread,
And a grocery cart
Push!...

Tried to summon
Live goblins
From your former
Bush
That burns in the
Desert 
Non-stop,
Without end...

There's an elder man
Sits 
By it's lively 
Allure, and 
Locked in a trance,
He extracts 
Every thread 
Of clothes on his 
Body...
...Throws his filigree
Vest 
On the flickering 
Flames!...

...Pretty soon,
He will join them.
...He does not 
Know your name,
But your living
Rejoinder
Has him questioning
All.
...How can he 
Breathe?...

Are the nights
Stacked too tall?...








©
2017
Bunny Villaire 















4
2
0
Juice
5 reads
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny in portal Romance & Erotica

Beyond Any Method

You came to life 

Under negligent eyes...

...Couldn't bridge

The gap

'twixt your ilk,

And the skies...

...They could never

Grasp

All your infinite

Means...

...Your velvet 

Lap,

And the courtyard

Between...

You were far beyond

Any method 

Of paint!

...Like a symphony,

Every movement

You'd make...

...From your 

Seven Seas...

Endless hermetic

Isles.

...I was sealed in

By your 

Ravishing shade

That would come, 

And go

Like an unfolding

Wave...

...'til you hit 

Your pitch...

And in pleasure

You caved...

To my open arms...

...Taken in

By wild charms.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire  

6
1
2
Juice
24 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny in portal Romance & Erotica
Beyond Any Method
You came to life 
Under negligent eyes...
...Couldn't bridge
The gap
'twixt your ilk,
And the skies...

...They could never
Grasp
All your infinite
Means...
...Your velvet 
Lap,
And the courtyard
Between...

You were far beyond
Any method 
Of paint!
...Like a symphony,
Every movement
You'd make...
...From your 
Seven Seas...
Endless hermetic
Isles.

...I was sealed in
By your 
Ravishing shade
That would come, 
And go
Like an unfolding
Wave...
...'til you hit 
Your pitch...
And in pleasure
You caved...
To my open arms...
...Taken in
By wild charms.




©
2017
Bunny Villaire  
6
1
2
Juice
24 reads
Load 2 Comments
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny

Savvy Vendors Aim to Poach Us

Scramble 

Like a spider

Down the wall

Of passé years...

...Antiquated arch-

types 

Of mounting

Techno-tears.

We can't afford

To lie so low,

And let the robot

Ball

Destroy the free rein

We have left!...

...No wiggle room

At all.

Can't you see

The bridge is up?...

...A slew

Of red flags

Whirl

In the wind

As we proceed...

Our solid views

Have curled 

For a ride on this

New

Trend...

...It sickens me

Beyond...

But Mr. Toad's

Wild Ride 

Won't end,

Until they've 

Drained the 

Pond.

So scurry like 

A rodent who's 

Repelled by

Her rank nest!...

...Soon the hard

Stuff

Will be sold

For considerably 

Less...

...But this is not 

A jump off point,

It only seals the

Pact

To ones 

Who watch our 

Buns 

With motives...

Waiting to attack.

Savvy vendors

Aim to poach us...

...Take us by

Surprise!...

Savvy vendors

Need our focus...

Living through

Blank eyes...

What will we

Be,

When they 

Gut us...

...Bleed us for

Our hearts?...

Is there nothing

We can do,

But play this 

Game

Of darts?...

...This trip

That's oddly

Been provided

At our time,

And place.

Scramble

Like a spider down 

The rigorous

Rock-face!...

...Maybe you will

Break the 

Pavement!...

Hope to see

You there...

Don't get caught

Up

In the 

Panic...

...It's a cosmic

Snare.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

2
0
0
Juice
9 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny
Savvy Vendors Aim to Poach Us
Scramble 
Like a spider
Down the wall
Of passé years...

...Antiquated arch-
types 
Of mounting
Techno-tears.

We can't afford
To lie so low,
And let the robot
Ball
Destroy the free rein
We have left!...
...No wiggle room
At all.

Can't you see
The bridge is up?...
...A slew
Of red flags
Whirl
In the wind
As we proceed...
Our solid views
Have curled 
For a ride on this
New
Trend...
...It sickens me
Beyond...
But Mr. Toad's
Wild Ride 
Won't end,
Until they've 
Drained the 
Pond.

So scurry like 
A rodent who's 
Repelled by
Her rank nest!...
...Soon the hard
Stuff
Will be sold
For considerably 
Less...
...But this is not 
A jump off point,
It only seals the
Pact
To ones 
Who watch our 
Buns 
With motives...
Waiting to attack.

Savvy vendors
Aim to poach us...
...Take us by
Surprise!...
Savvy vendors
Need our focus...
Living through
Blank eyes...

What will we
Be,
When they 
Gut us...
...Bleed us for
Our hearts?...
Is there nothing
We can do,
But play this 
Game
Of darts?...
...This trip
That's oddly
Been provided
At our time,
And place.

Scramble
Like a spider down 
The rigorous
Rock-face!...

...Maybe you will
Break the 
Pavement!...
Hope to see
You there...

Don't get caught
Up
In the 
Panic...
...It's a cosmic
Snare.












©
2017
Bunny Villaire 













2
0
0
Juice
9 reads
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny

Raise Consciousness and Repeat

Extend your gaze out

Past utmost reaches of touch...

Let it multiply.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

7
1
0
Juice
9 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny
Raise Consciousness and Repeat
Extend your gaze out
Past utmost reaches of touch...
Let it multiply.


©
2017
Bunny Villaire 
7
1
0
Juice
9 reads
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny

New Heights to Shoot For

In veneration...

...Aren't

Our Days of 

Mystery

Enveloped

In a 

Sheath

Of cliffhangers,

And Sphinx

Brain twisters?...

Stars,

That dangle 

Like a bribe,

Possess a 

Gift to 

Jibe

With inmost

Longings...

And lost

Sisters.

Our severance

She sights,

With her 

Enormous 

Turn,

New footing 

Paved with lights...

...Old coma will

Unfold by 

Morning...

Skin...

...This breading

That we're in,

Deceives the

Ponzi'd Eyes...

...Egg-whites

Crack... 

...Drowning

Discordant

Warnings.

In veneration...

...Aren't

Our Days of

Mystery

Enveloped

In a

Sheath

Of cliffhangers,

And Sphinx

Brain twisters?...

Sweet,

As anyone 

Could eat,

The cycles 

Hatch, and

Sweat...

New 

Christenings

Contain

Old blisters.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

3
1
2
Juice
14 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny
New Heights to Shoot For
In veneration...
...Aren't
Our Days of 
Mystery
Enveloped
In a 
Sheath
Of cliffhangers,
And Sphinx
Brain twisters?...

Stars,
That dangle 
Like a bribe,
Possess a 
Gift to 
Jibe
With inmost
Longings...
And lost
Sisters.

Our severance
She sights,
With her 
Enormous 
Turn,
New footing 
Paved with lights...
...Old coma will
Unfold by 
Morning...

Skin...
...This breading
That we're in,
Deceives the
Ponzi'd Eyes...
...Egg-whites
Crack... 
...Drowning
Discordant
Warnings.

In veneration...
...Aren't
Our Days of
Mystery
Enveloped
In a
Sheath
Of cliffhangers,
And Sphinx
Brain twisters?...

Sweet,
As anyone 
Could eat,
The cycles 
Hatch, and
Sweat...
New 
Christenings
Contain
Old blisters.


©
2017
Bunny Villaire 


















3
1
2
Juice
14 reads
Load 2 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny in portal Flash Fiction

Chameleons in Black and White

Could real life be any more unreal? Here I was on the road, during a record storm, after being betrayed by my shit-head Mom and Dad. Quite a frightening ordeal for a girl of fifteen! Bound hand and foot, I banged loosely on the floor of some horrible old trunk that stank of gasoline and nightmares. My wrists were tied with rope, and my head was blinded by sack cloth, until They found it appropriate to remove them. I struggled against the rope, until at last, we arrived at our awful destination. Once there, I was dragged from the van, into a dank room, where they unloaded us like potato sacks.

When unmasked, we were greeted by lightening from outside which bled in, allowing us to see the paisley room we were in was a nursery. When another thunderbolt flashed again, it revealed a room so badly neglected that the building must have been condemned. Wallpaper curled up walls, looking like it was black in spots from an old fire, and mold showed underneath. Out of the corner of my eye a rat scurried. While electricity painted our frightened faces, I waited with my tribe for the two nun statues to tell us what we were doing here. Instead the statues busied themselves by gaping at a clock on the wall behind us, their heads ducking back down and greedily sifting through a mysterious satchel that contained some nameless treasure.

The many night’s following were monotonous, with no questions answered, as we huddled in this godforsaken room. Occassionally we were given baked beans, and out-house trips, but the only difference that I detected in this time warp was our group of women thinning out. Each new night there was less of us. Thanks to the heavily veiled windows, night was the only point of reference we knew of now; when our hours grew darker, stretching on like an endless quilt. I was already shy, but the trend of missing women made me become even more remote, and cautious about connecting with the other scared girls.

One evening, I awoke peering into the eyes of a auburn chick of seventeen who had a pale, upraised scar that ran from her lip to her right ear. Her scar looked like a white tattoo. It was a piece of art on her face. She was mouthing something, and there didn’t appear to be anyone in the room but the three remaining women. Grabbing her shoulder, I drew her closer to the ground so I could hear her.

“…It’s a prostitution ring, I think. These ain’t nuns, it’s all a set-up! We gotta hustle!”

I gawked back in fright. I was at a loss. Luckily she took the reins.

“We don’t have time! C’mon, Jesse! That’s your name, right? …Read it on their roster your about to be sent to a Bolivian man named Mauricio. Let’s go!”

The girl with the scar gripped my hand, and led us through a window she had wedged open. Once alerted, our captors hollered as we ran down the trail towards a forest in the distance. They were all too stupid to catch us though. My brave friend squeezed my palm as she skillfully shepherded me through bramble and crops of trees in the blackness. When I reached a cliff where a clearing could be scanned from above I noticed the girl with the scar had vanished. I felt naked without her, but I sobered up fast. The last wheel of the journey had to be done alone. Finding a way down the hill, I discovered a vacant cabin. I settled into it, and it has become my sanctuary for many years. There was some silverware left behind from the previous owners, and an axe stuck in a block of wood at the back of the house. I've cut my own wood here, and lived a solitary life. I've learned to catch small game with some skillful traps I've been forced to invent. I cook a mean rabbit! Sometimes, in the evening, after I've cooked up a hot meal, I think about my parents and how much I hate them. The hate is wearing off though. I wonder about whether I should move back to the chaos of the city, where people are governed by their fanatic infatuations. The city is frightening but the country is much, much darker in more then a few ways. You never know what's going to happen out here in wilderness, or what will come sneaking out of the bramble. The bitter pill I've come to accept is that everyone must fend for themselves.

©

2017

Bunny Villaire 

6
2
4
Juice
31 reads
Donate coins to Bunny.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Bunny in portal Flash Fiction
Chameleons in Black and White
Could real life be any more unreal? Here I was on the road, during a record storm, after being betrayed by my shit-head Mom and Dad. Quite a frightening ordeal for a girl of fifteen! Bound hand and foot, I banged loosely on the floor of some horrible old trunk that stank of gasoline and nightmares. My wrists were tied with rope, and my head was blinded by sack cloth, until They found it appropriate to remove them. I struggled against the rope, until at last, we arrived at our awful destination. Once there, I was dragged from the van, into a dank room, where they unloaded us like potato sacks.

When unmasked, we were greeted by lightening from outside which bled in, allowing us to see the paisley room we were in was a nursery. When another thunderbolt flashed again, it revealed a room so badly neglected that the building must have been condemned. Wallpaper curled up walls, looking like it was black in spots from an old fire, and mold showed underneath. Out of the corner of my eye a rat scurried. While electricity painted our frightened faces, I waited with my tribe for the two nun statues to tell us what we were doing here. Instead the statues busied themselves by gaping at a clock on the wall behind us, their heads ducking back down and greedily sifting through a mysterious satchel that contained some nameless treasure.

The many night’s following were monotonous, with no questions answered, as we huddled in this godforsaken room. Occassionally we were given baked beans, and out-house trips, but the only difference that I detected in this time warp was our group of women thinning out. Each new night there was less of us. Thanks to the heavily veiled windows, night was the only point of reference we knew of now; when our hours grew darker, stretching on like an endless quilt. I was already shy, but the trend of missing women made me become even more remote, and cautious about connecting with the other scared girls.

One evening, I awoke peering into the eyes of a auburn chick of seventeen who had a pale, upraised scar that ran from her lip to her right ear. Her scar looked like a white tattoo. It was a piece of art on her face. She was mouthing something, and there didn’t appear to be anyone in the room but the three remaining women. Grabbing her shoulder, I drew her closer to the ground so I could hear her.

“…It’s a prostitution ring, I think. These ain’t nuns, it’s all a set-up! We gotta hustle!”
I gawked back in fright. I was at a loss. Luckily she took the reins.

“We don’t have time! C’mon, Jesse! That’s your name, right? …Read it on their roster your about to be sent to a Bolivian man named Mauricio. Let’s go!”

The girl with the scar gripped my hand, and led us through a window she had wedged open. Once alerted, our captors hollered as we ran down the trail towards a forest in the distance. They were all too stupid to catch us though. My brave friend squeezed my palm as she skillfully shepherded me through bramble and crops of trees in the blackness. When I reached a cliff where a clearing could be scanned from above I noticed the girl with the scar had vanished. I felt naked without her, but I sobered up fast. The last wheel of the journey had to be done alone. Finding a way down the hill, I discovered a vacant cabin. I settled into it, and it has become my sanctuary for many years. There was some silverware left behind from the previous owners, and an axe stuck in a block of wood at the back of the house. I've cut my own wood here, and lived a solitary life. I've learned to catch small game with some skillful traps I've been forced to invent. I cook a mean rabbit! Sometimes, in the evening, after I've cooked up a hot meal, I think about my parents and how much I hate them. The hate is wearing off though. I wonder about whether I should move back to the chaos of the city, where people are governed by their fanatic infatuations. The city is frightening but the country is much, much darker in more then a few ways. You never know what's going to happen out here in wilderness, or what will come sneaking out of the bramble. The bitter pill I've come to accept is that everyone must fend for themselves.







©
2017
Bunny Villaire 
6
2
4
Juice
31 reads
Load 4 Comments
Login to post comments.
Advertisement  (turn off)