This person is everywhere if we look for it.
*
You’d see that a large part of her identity
Is wrapped up in her perceptions of her sexuality
Sex kitten, vamp, mistress is how she identifies
Any man would want to win her for their willing prize Continue reading “More vixen than you (a poem)”
Sorry not sorry.
*
I’m sorry I upset you, love
You know I didn’t mean to
Next time when you tell me what you want
I’ll know it’s just not true Continue reading “I’m sorry (a poem)”
We all know someone like this
*
She controls your thoughts and actions
And accepts no lapses
Her need controls and takes your flames
You don’t know it’s all in vain
She plays on ignorance
With her own experience Continue reading “The Succubus (a poem that reads like emo song lyrics)”
A tragedy in cheap clothing
*
It cost her seven dollars and fifty cents at the second hand place. She had been wearing it all day, the jacket sometimes came off when she was hot, but the white polyester blouse she wore (four dollars, purchased in the same place) had gotten a bit grubby and even she’d been aware of that, and so kept putting the jacket back on. Continue reading “The Suit (a story)”
Lurking and hiding behind innocuous lines
They dark and dodge and assume disguise
Reaching multiple arms to disorder intent
Hidden till exposed by unexpected rents
The hunter’s not garbed in camo or hides
Sees with unseeming weapons to sniff out and find
Not a footstep to follow, not a track to be seen
Picking up traces, trained eyes that are keen
That last note was sharp
The next one will be flat
I will have to look out
Or I’ll startle the cat
At least I stopped squeaking
And hit that high note
Though it sounds a bit feral
Like a pain stricken goat
I see you refuse to see it
It’s there, right in your face
You can try to not believe it
If you run, it keeps in pace
Try dealing with your problems
And don’t ignore them too
You’ll find they’ll go away
And not fester like they do
Fifty years together
Our golden wedding is today
Our family here with us
To celebrate the day
It’s a long time with one person
We really like each other
He’s good a catching spiders
And I am nothing like his mother.
The afterlife is no fun.
*
TeeBeeTe felt a very odd jolt and opened her eyes.
“I’m dead,” she said aloud.
“I died alone. And in pain.”
She considered this for a bit and found she was upset – but having had died horribly didn’t seem to matter any more. What she needed to do was deal with the now, and what was going on now that she’d actually died. Continue reading “Purgatory – a story”
He slumbers without breath in the deep cold dark
Cavernous and empty, lying on his glittering bed
Dreaming of flesh, of slaking unquenchable appetite
Then, disturbed by the priest bearing the spark
Of life – caresses him awake inside the jawless head
Breathing life into silver organs, levering mouths awide
Moylen Green - writings 