Tag Archives: Kind

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Henry Fuseli

Ravioli Knights

Infidelity
a Broken Ring,
a Vow
That Means
Nothing Now,
Lies
Like Spread Thighs;
Cottage Cheese For Seasoning.
True
That Should Have Been
Like Glue,
Not
Like Rot
Seven Seasons Dead.
In This Room
I Have Been Held
For the Murders of you
I Thought a Friend
& the Mob Who
Bought It
Trying For my Head.
Just me you See
With a Canned Good
Against you
& Three.
the Misery I With Stood
2 To the Chest
& One Beside the Eye.
Yes,
the 45 Caliber Kind.
to Drain & Die
On This Kitchen Floor
Was Not What I Was Made For.
If I Was to Die
It Was to Be In Battle Sweet
or Between the Legs
of a Lady Riding High.
Not Treachery
Both Foul & Deep.
Luring me With Sex & Song
to the Valley of Sleep;
Having Done
I Went For a Bottle of Beer
& Surprise Who Should I Meet
But 3 Long Shadows
Waiting There For me.
Flash,
Flash,
Flash,
Down I Was InDeed,
Blood Red Agony,
Not a Breath to Breathe,
Pain Bright Dizzying.
Laying There Wondering
If This Was the End For me,
the Vest Had Not Held
& Crimson Was Blossoming.
They Left to Check & See,
To Get the Stuff to Dismantle me.
In the Tub to Bleed
& Then the Cutting;
No, No,
Not For me
As I Slipped Ravioli In a Sock.
First,
I Came to Crush your Skull
my Lovely Little Girl.
Then the Man
Who Came to Gut me Like a Pig
& Then the 2
to Help Move.
It Was Such a Gristly Scene,
Had to Be Burning.
I Will Never Forget
That Night.
Standing Above
Those Broken Things
Screaming Triumphantly
As the Kerosene Burned Bright,
Ravioli Nights
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/154950/ravioli-knights

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Spencer Stanhope

Crimson Queen

Satan; Adversary,
Lucifer; Morning Star,
but She was Older much Older.
Older Than the Castrating Cult
of the Great Mother;
Cybele,
She Was the Oldest
& Greatest of Gods,
She Was Eros;
Desire,
the Crimson Queen.
& We,
my Family & I
Have Served Her
Since Man
First Crawled From the Wild.
We Who Have Suckled From Her Tit.
Who Have Known Her
As Pandora
& Again
As Eve.
We Were There
When the Walls of Troy Fell
& Again
When We Pierced the White Gods Side.
We Are the Ones
Said to Wear the Mark;
the Mark of Cain;
the Spear
& to This Day
We Are Still Known
As the Sons of the Dragon.
Yes,
Even He
of the Impaling Fist
Served Her;
Her
Blood Red Bliss.
She Who Came to Us
When the Moon Was Swollen,
Swollen With Sin
& Desire
Desire
Like Fire.
a Fire to Sear your Soul
& Strip your Sanity.
Bacchanalian Rites
of the Blackest Kind,
Orgies
of Mutilation & Murder.
She Would Stroll Through
Some Times Stopping
to Touch a Subjects Head.
As Her Worshippers
Offered Up Their Bloody Sacrifices;
Dripping Mangled Manhood.
Blood Wine
Heaped With Herbs
of the Darkest Sort,
Flesh of the Fallen;
Man,
Beast,
or Child;
Was the Feast We Had.
Screams of Agony & Ecstasy
In the Torch Light,
the Scarlet Flames Illuminating
Hellish Flickering Scenes
of Satanic Night.
She Covered In the Blood of the Devout,
Licking Her Fingers
Bouncing About
All Eyes & Thighs,
Tits & Ass.
Tonight I Was to Receive my Birth Right.
Ouroboros; the Snake Circle,
So Driven by Desire
It Eats Its Own Tail;
to Take the Place of my Father,
I the Oldest Surviving Son In an UnBroken Line
Since Life Began.
I to Sit Upon Her Left Side
& He
to Cross Over
& Serve Her In Her Own Land;
Hand Picked Children
In the Image
of Lillith.
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/147052/crimson-queen

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres

Mercy me

a Mad
Tea Party
&

you
Invited me
Oh
you Really
Shouldn’t Have
Cause you
See
the Hatter’s
Kind
of Lame
&

the
Tea
Is Kind
of Tame
Not the
Kind
They Use
To Serve
To me
Where
the Rabbit
Would Be
Packing
&

Alice
Would Be
On Her
Knee’s
&

Mercy
Would Be
the Furthest
Thing
you See
That’s
the Kind
of Party
For me
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/48076/mercy-me

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Arthur Rackham

Arthur Rackham

Luck

Luck
a Lady
All Ways
Easy
On
the Eyes
Luck
a Lady
As I
Slip
Between
Those Thighs
Luck
a Lady
As I
Listen
To Her
Cries
Luck
a Lady
As Every
One
Else Dies
&

That
Is How
I Fared
How I
Escaped
the Electric
Chair
How I
Dared
With Out
Even
a Care
As She
Rode
By my
Side
She
Of the
45 Caliber
Kind
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/42765/luck

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Félicien Rops

Félicien Rops

What Should I Compose

a Story About;

a Loner,

a Woman,

Child,

Dog…


How About a Goat,

See; There was a Goat

Walking Down the Street.
Yeah, a Goat

& It Came Up To me

& Asked For a Smoke.
So, I Put One In Its Mouth

& Lit It.
Cause, you Know

Goats

Don’t Have Hands.
Well, If It Did;

That Would be Some Kind

of Freak.
It Stood There Puffing

a Way

& I Must Say

the Most Disconcerting Thing

About the Whole Fray

was Its

Eyes.
I Don’t Know

If you Have Ever Had

a Huge Black Goat

With a Devil’s Pentagram

Branded In Its Fore Head;

Stare At you

With Those Black;

Soul Less

In Humane

Eyes.
Well; If you Have,

Then you Have

a Notion

Of a Very

Startlingly

Occurrence.
#B27321

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