Tag Archives: Stood

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

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Antonio da Correggio

Die For me

Do Machines Dream,
I Only Know
my Sex Machine
Died For me.
I Know
Who Writes
About Such a Sick Thing;
a Sex Machine,
a Vat Grown Organic:
She.
I Did Not Invent
The Technology,
But I Did
Pervert It
to My Own Need.
Why you Ask;
Simple,
Loyalty.
They Would Die
or Suicide
Before They Gave Up
On me.
I Kept 5
I Wanted 10.
Only One;
Gemini
Was Better
Than the Rest,
One I Intended To
Put To the Test.
To Afford This Lavish Life Style,
to Afford my Pets;
I Did Things,
Things
Some People
Would Regret.
Mainly
I Killed;
Poison, Gun, or Knife;
That Was the Road
I Stood.
She Would End Up
Giving Her Life;
She Who Was Like a Twin,
Like a Second Skin;
Who Could Have Been a Wife.
Will She Be the Same
When She Down Loads
To Night.
#B27321 

https://theprose.com/post/144636/die-for-me

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Francisco Goya

Francisco Goya

your Momma, Obama

His Name Was
your Momma Obama.
Leader of the Muslin Brother Hood,
a Savior Sent to Brutalize Women & Kill Gays.
an Acid Bath or Muzzle Blast was All the Same;
& the Liberals Scream
Hurrah,
Hurrah.
Let’s Give Them Our Vote.
Fuck the Republic
Give Them Our Throat.
Jihad Is Great.
Jihad Is Good.
Flaming Ruins
Where Palaces Once Stood.
Burn Books, Preach Hate
& Blame me
Cause I Won’t Convert.
Jihad Is Great.
Jihad Is Good.
At Least we Are Not Nailed
to a Piece of Wood.
or Am I Just Miss Under Stood.
Barbarians At the Gate
& you Demand Rape.
#B27321

Disclaimer
I am Just Saying Vet
So we Know What we Get.

https://theprose.com/post/131664/your-momma-obama

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose