Grass Not Needed To Find One
Calm, yet bold.
Cautious, yet deadly.
One slithers,
one plans deceit.
One survives.
One never dies.
One forages for food,
one preys on innocence.
One can kill,
one ruins lives.
One adapts to natue,
one adapts to self-need.
One commits no human crime,
one is without human emotion.
Does one know the concept of love?
One laughs at its very concept.
One will one day die,
one lives on forever.
... and the one who slithers into your life,
... is the midnight madness of your mind.
Wake Not the Snake
Jake the snake
is half awake
darkness wails his name -
hiding from the sun
in slippery syllables
as you shake
and quake
and take
a backward break!
Just separate his head
from skinny tail -
the slithering snake
will soon be dead.
Just use your head -
Jake told you
who he was,
next time
believe him
before he takes
a bite of you
or maybe two!
Wake not
the sleeping snake
for goodness sake
especially if
his name is Jake!
How to Train Your Python
What sort of fun can two kids have with a python?
Rosemary and Regan stood in their backyard behind the house with their pet python Slinky. The large snake coiled his elastic body up.
The girls tried teaching Slinky fetch. Never budged.
Next was hide and seek. Slinky stayed in the same spot.
The girls later tried to teach him to jump through a flaming hoop until their mother stopped them from setting fire to their hula hoop.
Coloring?
No.
Hopscotch?
Nothing.
Tea party?
Nada.
Rocking out on the electric guitar?
A level of Major Rager?
Tag?
Nothing phased this snake. He was motionless as a statue, blinking his deadpan eyes and flickering his forked tongue. Finally, Rosemary and Regan collapsed, too tired to try anything else. It wasn’t long before they both fell asleep under the warm sun.
Slinky then made his move. He uncoiled himself and slithered through the green grass to where Rosemary and Regan napped. The two sisters were huddled together yet left enough room for the large snake to fit his narrow body between them. Once comfortable, Slinky closed his eyes, resting with his two favorite humans.
#sinsofthefather #fiction #fantasy #comedy #horror #family #pet #snake
A Snake in the Grass
Primative...
I was unwanted
called serpentine
a prima donna
of primates....
thunderstruck
in the garden plot
where certain bipeds
were once weeded up...
with faith on the palate
from a lone guarantee:
“That the first shall be Last;
and the last shall be First.”
but how, what, or why?
I query to coil & unravel
knowing something
is within me....deep
if I could but
sink some teeth
in to describe...
how I’d draw that Life Blood
I’ll never have enough of...
I am the First
condemned
and the Last
for sacrifice...
I’ve prayed for me
...and on my sanity...
I’ve crawled from Void
returning belly up
back to the In-fin-not
no parable to unparcel
from this scaly muck...
just the loss of a mind
dumbstruck
with consciousness
buried by doubt
...as human pain
in the grass
#SnakeInTheGrass #Challenge
A Snake in the grass
My mother hated snakes, she hated them with a vengeance, I wasn't allowed to watch natural history programs on TV in case a snake was shown. Mind you she also hated Tony Blaire, my father and foreigners in general, generous with her hate was my mother.
But now she must be spinning like a dynamo in her grave, fit to light up the entire island! For here I sit in the grass, in a place were I am the foreigner, cradling in my hand a snake, a Barbour’s tropical racer, newly hatched, the colour of cheap milk chocolate and beautiful in the way only the very young are. The tiny snake, barely the length of my thumb, squirms round in my palm, its skin smooth as silk and gently warm in the afternoon sun. It rears its head, fear registers in its deep black eyes,it opens its mouth in defiance.
I smile and tuck it under a papaya leaf, go in peace little snake, there are many things to fear in this life, things that would eat you or kill you from ignorance, but you have nothing to fear from me, for in this respect I'm not my mothers daughter.
Snake in the Grass
Today is like the day I met you. Sun high, masked by a veil of fog. We met in this meadow. I was reading, you were playing with your younger brother. I remember it clearly and hope you do too.
Last year you went missing.
I lay down on the saturated grass, groggy from the fog. I envision shaggy brown hair, lopsided smile, and icy blue eyes, seemingly out of place.
Time ticks. I watch the sun. I miss you and never got to say goodbye. Are you out there?
Swishing.
Sitting up, I cry, “Hello?” hoping for my love. Silence. I sob, laying down. It's been long since I saw your face, heard your voice. People say you ran, but I don't believe them.
The noise again. I listen. It's calming me; I almost felt at peace. The haze still in the sky, the sun setting, and the swishing, I could sleep.
Your face is all I see.
"Hurry! She's not breathing!"
Sobs broke out. The group huddled close, not noticing the meadow. The meadow where, my life began, the boy disappeared, and it all ended.
At the funeral, the brother noticed two dots on my neck, barely visible.