Protected Three

Whisper….
whisper…..
whisper…..
whisper…..
Grey Goose
Grey Goose
what do you see?
I see three harpies laughing at me.
Gargoyle ugly
bitter
remorseless
Three Sisters May
harridans
shrews
frightening they were.
Small children
some dares taken
most were not
for the Three Sisters May
ate them for breakfast
when they were caught.
None looked too close.
None cared for small children gone.
Had they looked a little closer
they might have seen…..
the little ones who disappeared
abused
misused
treated like filth
by those who should have cared.
Taken to shelter
to a place
where children are children
not pawns in a game.
Had they paid the slightest
smallest iota of attention
a connection could be made.
They would have discovered
a slew of unmissed men.
Those that died
murdered
suicided
accidents……
All had one thing in common
pedophiles they all were
each missing a….
uhmmmmm
rather important part.
For the Three Sisters May
protected the innocent
making the evil ones pay.
March 14/19
Photo by joe schulz on Unsplash
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Haunted Photograph

****I was looking at an old photo and this is what I came up with. It is a little different from my usual.****
‘Joseph. Joseph! Oh dear Lord what is that girl doing?’
‘She doesn’t know we are here.’
Hushed voices.
Hissing.
Gasping.
Appalled.
Uncertain as to what they are viewing.
‘Why is she getting on her knees?’
‘Well that is….absolutely…..Joseph stop that.’
‘Jesus woman you didn’t have to elbow me so hard.’
‘She’s…..what is…..why….Rosie do you see….’
Head thrown back.
Whimpering.
Eyes rolling back.
Near death experience.
In flicker of moment
I saw them.
Staring
In disbelief
Horror
Indignation
Snapping me from pleasure
To sheer horror.
They had finally come for me.
In my family this photo travels
Due to spirits candor.
Home they had come
To roost with me.
Damnit it all
Now I will never get laid.
 
March 9/19

https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/457467274619949948/

 

Outsider

‘Hear ye
hear ye
it seems to be 
an outsider
writhing amongst our midst.
Sowing discord
loss
desire
in all whose path she crosses.’
I stood in with the crowd
cowled head
bent to hide the blues
the greens
the halos of my eyes.
No more did I wonder
when I heard these oracles
these leaders
decry the one who does not belong.
I knew it was me.
Cruel beasties
tied to my side
tethered
chained
beholden to do my bidding
as long as I was here
in this place
in this time.
Madman
madder than he was before
rending his clothing
his flesh
screaming of the one who does not exist.
Oooooohhhhhhh
I no longer exist
which means that there……
there are no consequences for acts done.
No need to not try to change
disrupt
agitate
the populous so trodden down
losing hope
beaten
to rise above their pious Lordlings
toss them down
erase them from this life?
Am I truly evil?
Am I Danger?
Have I fallen off the wayside?
Am I truly Lost?
Or am I retribution?
Off with their heads
no cake for the wicked
soon I shall cast off this cowl
making myself known.
Down and down
the Rabbit’s Hole I fall
each level
a new experience
tying me to this place.
 
January 10/19
Photo by Viktor Forgacs on Unsplash

Untitled Story Poem #2

This is the second part which goes along with Untitled Story Poem #1.

My eyes stung
bleeding
dry
from staring at the screen
unable to believe what I was seeing.
Yet it was right there.
In bold lettering and flashing lights.
A tour
trip
to hunt down rapists of children.
A new trade
catering to the justified.
 
It took some planning
Money.
Time.
Passport.
I was more than ready
on departure day.
I did not know what to expect.
I did not know who was meeting me.
I did not know anything 
beyond the burning desire within
to hunt down 
and maul these dangerous men.
 
Envelope waiting upon arrival
telling me where to go.
My money has been received
the rest of the info
it will be there.
Seedy part of town
dilapitated hotels all around
wondering if I have been played
wandering into the sex trade.
 
The man waiting in my room
put all fears to rest.
Reason for the seediness
no one is missed
dead bodies 
a dime a dozen.
This is where the broken weep.
There is a finesse
to slaying with ease
without spray back
blood 
making you visible to the eye.
 
Taught to move through the shadows
loose walk
no tension
just another girl out for a walk.
No fear here
that I will be attacked
this is the lair of indignity
all know I am an avenger
stay out of my way.
Stalking
stiletto drawn
loosely held
no need to cause alarm 
the prey cavorting before me
will fall when I decide.
Misting rain
torrential downpour
hide me
hide my intent
until it is too late.
Muffled scream
blanketed yell
I leap.
One slick slash
blood pumps warm
body falling to the street.
Walking away
stiletto dropped
washed away
down the grate.
I become
one more shadow
moving through the night
without any cares.
December 29/18
Photo by Djim Loic on Unsplash

Adrift

Daily 
she stood upon the widow’s walk
eyes straining to see
masts against the sky
her man coming home 
to her 
at last.
Like a wicked tale
storms
bedeviled ship
abandoned
floundering 
no where near here.
When at first 
the day did pass
no ship on the horizon
she worried not.
Now 
a decade later
she knew he was not coming home
he would never be back.
A heart can be broken
yet not accept the truth
tis easier  to ignore.
She bedecked herself
in garish make up
clown like 
her gown sparkling
with tiny glass pieces.
When found
picture in hand
they all agreed
finally now she had peace.
 
December 22/18
Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

Plain Jane/Badass Jane-Merging

Final poem in the Plain Jane/Badass Jane series. I hope that you have enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. Links to the previous poems in order are:
Pain.
Rolling over me
only thing that I can focus on.
I bring my hand up
covered in blood
realizing what she has done.
Finally.
I lay back
badass to the end.
So tired am I…
is she….
are we.
Voices screaming
calling for help
slowly….
I begin to fade.
Silver tears falling…..
I feel the arms of Jane wrap around
pulling her close
we are soon to be gone.
Panting
gasps of final air
body trembles
cold
so very cold.
I stare above
Jane and me
tainted little girl
broken at the knee.
My last breath eases out
my pain at last
laid to rest.
There are tales to tell
lessons to be learned
but no ears to hear.
Sadly
no one will ever know the truth
of Plain & Badass Jane.
Sept. 7/18
Credit for picture was given in a previous post which I am now unable to find. I will continue to look for it and when I do will post the information.

Plain Jane-Broken Down

***Continuation of Story poem. Previous poems are in order here:
She did it to me again.
Always
with the leaving me entrails
destruction
things I must clean up.
I am the one pummeled
cold baths
shock therapy
increased drugs
increased watching of the patient
never allowing me a chance
to unfold.
If I am locked like this
drugs
cuffs
complacent
how ever will she reappear?
Until court
when I must answer for bloodshed
for death
that I did not cause
I will be sedated.
Badass Jane
she is writhing on the leash
wanting to come out
to play
to protect
to get her revenge.
Sept. 7/18