April 29, 2017 · 10:26 am
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
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as 2, 3 Long, 45, 45 Caliber, Above, Agony, Battle, Battle Sweet, Been, Beer, Beside, Between, Bleed, Blood, Blood Red Agony, Blossoming, Both, Bottle, Bottle of Beer, Bought, Bought It, Breath, Breathe, Bright, Broken, Broken Ring, Broken Things, Burned, Burned Bright, Burning, Caliber, Came, Canned, Canned Good, Check, Cheese, Chest, Cottage, Cottage Cheese, Crimson, Crush, Cutting, Dead, Deep, Die, Dismantle, Dizzying, Done, Down, Drain, End, Eye, First, Flash, Floor, ForGet, Foul, Friend, Get, Glue, Good, Gristly, Gristly Scene, Gut, Had, Head, Held, Help, Henry Fuseli, High, InDeed, Infidelity, It, Kerosene, Kind, Kitchen, Kitchen Floor, Knights, Lady, Laying, Left, Legs, Lies, Like, Little Girl, Long Shadows, Lovely, Lovely Little Girl, Luring, Made, Man, Means, Meet, Misery, Mob, Move, Murders, Never, Night, Nights, No, Not, Nothing, Now, One, Pain, Pain Bright Dizzying, Pig, Prose, Ravioli, Ravioli Knights, Ravioli Nights, Red, Riding, Riding High, Ring, Room, Rot, Scene, Screaming, Screaming Triumphantly, Seasoning, Seasons, See, Seven, Seven Seasons, Seven Seasons Dead, Sex, Shadows, Should, Skull, Sleep, Slipped, Sock, Song, Spread, Spread Thighs, Standing, Stood, Stuff, Such, Surprise, Sweet, There, They, Thighs, Things, Those, Those Broken, Those Broken Things, Thought, Three, Treachery, Triumphantly, True, Trying, Tub, Valley, Valley of Sleep, Vest, Vow, Waiting, Went, Who, Will, With, With Stood, Wondering, Yes
December 17, 2015 · 10:21 pm
Howard Pyle
A Cacophony
of Shadows,
&
All
I Feel
Is Fear.
As I
Look
In to
Those Eyes,
Those Eyes
of
a Seer.
Cards UnFold,
Marking me
For Death;
Both
Dark
&
Bold,
That Grimm
Jester
Holds me
In His
Hand.
What Ever
you Do
Don’t
Go Home.
It’s
the Grave.
That Evil
Place;
Leave
your Dead
UnMourned;
Showing me
the Door,
Refusing Pay;
She Says
Never More.
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as B27321, Bold, Cacophony, Cards, Dark, Dead, Death, Discord, Door, Evil, Eyes, Fear, Feel, Freedom, Grave, Grimm, Hand, Harbinger, Holds, Home, Howard Pyle, Jester, Leave, Look, Marking, Never More, Pay, Place, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Revolution, Says, Seer, Shadows, She, Slavery, UnFold, UnMourned, Wyrd
September 28, 2015 · 5:23 pm
Edmund Blair Leighton
Loss
I Have
Lost
Many Things
But
you Are
What Clings
To my
Mind
Trailing Fingers
of Fickle
Time
Shadows
of Sun
Shine
#B27321
–
Filed under Posts
Tagged as B27321, Clings, Discord, Edmund Blair Leighton, Fickle, Fingers, Freedom, Harbinger, Loss, Lost, Mind, Poetry, Prison, Revolution, Shadows, Shine, Slavery, Sun, Sun Shine, Time, Trailing
September 19, 2014 · 7:18 am
Lorenz Frølich
Mist
upon the
Mornings
Breast
the Chill
of Deaths
Caress
Echoes
of the
Receding
Night
as Shadows
Flee
Before
the Light
Like
Mans
Soul
Taken
–
Filed under Posts
Tagged as B27321, Chill, Deaths Caress, Discord, Echoes, Flee, Flight, Freedom, Harbinger, Light, Lorenz Frølich, Mans Soul, Mist, Mornings Breast, Night, Poetry, Prison, Receding, Revolution, Shadows, Slavery
