Defrocking Miss Divine
Godly Miss Divine
Immaculate Conception
heavenly woman
beatific to all men
until she became defrocked
by Mr. B Devil
who came in darkness
in caped disguise
melodious words
purring from lips
hiding yellow teeth
and heart impure
seduced Miss Divine
blackout of light
disappeared in a pouf
leaving her in gloom
without her virginity
no longer divine.
Sanctitude
Jasmine wondered why she always did this to herself. When would she learn? She'd get into the flow of being a decent human being; actually get dressed for the brand new day, clean regularly, be able to breathe. And then it's like she ceased to exist--something inside her certainly seemed to. And when she was resuscitated, she was stupified at all the time lost; revolted at all the opportunities missed, the disarray left in its wake. She mourned for all breaths devoured but untasted, the laughs never born, songs unsung. As if making up for lost time, an old favourite popped into her head so she sang as she washed her favourite mug; her greedy cup, with its huge red heart and the words "I love you" written in pretty font. The cute little white and grey cup came next. Smiling at the inspirational message--the reason he bought it for her, she thought about the Alaskan Wood Frog, how winter killed it. And how, as soon as winter disappeared, spring brought it back to life. Maybe it wouldn't have minded not dying every other season, but that was part of its existence, what made it. The wind blew the lovely scent of orange blossoms her way and she thought about how the bitter ones propagated the headiest perfume. She wondered if its calming attributes could materialize in form, as well. Washing the round, blue bowl that she didn't return made her heart ache a bit. It was probably high time the place got spring-cleaned; maybe she'd finally try that trick of wiping the fridge with vanilla essence, so the kitchen smelled like a bakery every time it was opened. Looking at her reflection in the windows, she sniffed at the thought of her body devolving from hourglass to pear. She supposed it wasn't so bad really, it could've been worse. Pears were deceptively wonderful, if you thought about it. Yes, they were squat and drab, not likely to appeal by sight alone; but they taste simply divine, lush and juicy. Maybe she should plant a pear tree next.
Divi for short
And she called him "Divine"
simply because of how he looked in the moonlight,
and when she picked him up the dried tears on his cheeks like rain drops glistened
as if it were a thin film and he stared at her yet he did not cry, yell, or whine.
Instead he reached, wrapped his fingers which knew no strife around her pinky and cooed
as if to reassure her that was indeed his name.
So she brought him inside, safe from the dimly lit dangerous streets
and sat in her rocking chair by the fire as her tea brewed.
Unaware that the man who left him on her doorstep stood in the shadows
watching and wishing that his son would live a good life without him.
He shed yet another tear like the ones he dropped onto his sons face as he let him go
when he accepted he was no longer his father, but a man meant for the gallows.
As he faded into the darkness he couldn't help but smile while he recalled the words that left the womans mouth not to long ago.
thinking to himself of how he would tell his wife the tale of what happened once he was reunited with her in the afterlife,
"And she called him Divine."
Divinity
what does it mean
to be divine?
is it a goal
to be immortal
to be unkillable?
or is it a curse,
death doled out
but
recieving none in return?
would eternity
help us
sort out our problems?
or only create more?
is divinity really better
than being plain old me?
i've never been divine,
and that's okay with me.
no one expects the average one
to stand up in the spotlight
and perform for a crowd,
so i slip unnoticed through the audience,
a mortal admiring
the unlucky divine.
