Inside the room the girl ran towards the teenager who was still trying to dance. In the hall behind them Jordan’s screams gurgled with blood as his broken body was used to batter the door in. The girl ran towards Ralphie, tripping on the way and sliding on the floor just past him. Behind her the beast launched itself, frothing at the mouth in his blood induced frenzy towards the unsuspecting man. The frightened girl’s eyes opened as wide as they could just as Ralphie bent down to help her up.
Above him the beast grabbed at the air where he had been standing, unable to stop himself and crashed through the window severing his jugular vein in the process. The bewildered teenager smiled at the girl as he helped her to her feet and she threw her arms around him.
“My name is Ralphie.” he said as she clung tightly to him. “You’re not from around here are you?”
“OOla Gronkka” replied the girl, sobbing as she answered.
“OK” he replied. “Wanna go make out?.....”
THE END
(or is it?)
Section 02: Angry Poetry
Alone In A Crowd
Alone In A Crowd
Day into night then back into day
foolishly laughing his existence away.
Never listening to anything he might say.
They don’t care to speak, just want play
Cold and uncaring, thoughtless and cruel,
deathly silence is their horrible tool.
Never worried about the thoughts of a fool.
Silence is now their miscreant rule.
Curse his existence, wish he was dead
cut out his tongue then rip off his head!
Shatter his face with a pipe made from lead!
Do what you must, erase what was said.
But death is too ruthless, gaudy, and final.
There’s much more harm in speaking denial.
Shun him instead till his life starts to shrivel,
the verdict is passed without jury or trial.
So night into day then back into night,
they scurry along and hide from the light.
Never knowing or caring or doing what’s right.
The crowd passes by as he fades from sight.
He was never one of them, he had no call
There was no passion in the words he would scrawl.
But deep into his heart they had no sight at all,
they laughed and gloated as his words would fall.
And so it is ended! he muttered out loud,
But I’ll not be defeated or placed in your shroud!
Here I shall stand defiant, dignified, and proud!
But despite his speech he remained alone in a crowd.
The lone rebel, the last voice of reason. In past times killed for his views while today he is simply dismissed. Branded as a lunatic at best, he is dismissed and avoided…shunned by his peers.
10 Modern Plagues
10 Modern Plagues
Seas of ink have turned to red
Correcting this, crossed out that
The written words are all spelled wrong
Language has died like a fungus gnat
Bloated frogs are now quick to leap
Climbing aboard the sinking ship
The passengers will swim to shore
The crew enjoys a deluded trip
Infesting lice are next to come
Leaping from page to page to page
There’s no relief, scratch all night
You must understand my rage
Swarms abound as word goes forth
The eco-system here is just right
The indigenous life will move aside
Until they dance on our burial site
An epidemic is what it has become
Slaying everything that was grown
Nothing left that any will find
The smell of death not eau de cologne
Wounds now cover the works of art
Festering, bubbling, all thoughts shredded
The carrion birds are circling above
Paragraphs flounder, sentences beheaded
Then burning hail turns paper to ash
No recollections, no present no past
Lost in time just a memory gone by
Already the next plague has amassed
The locusts came the fields were ripe
The crops were tall, glorious and strong
They picked all day and again all night
While singing their destruction song
When nothing seemed able to get worse
Darkness adorned our lost shelves
Somewhere else a light shone through
But only darkness was left for ourselves
Then mercifully it ended
The last plague took its toll
All the pens were silenced
The killers took control
An obituary of sorts for the written English language. In the age of “Twitter-speak” and texting it seems that proper writing skills are being cast aside. Like the plagues of Egypt they sweep across the blank pages.
Harpies
Harpies
Yelling, screaming, screeching
Trying to get through
To help you, to lead you
Towards the right path
Their way
Their path
Conventionality is the key
Blend in, be like the others
It will help you and bring you
Towards the right path
Their way
Their path
Be normal not flamboyant
Stand clear of the spotlight
Avoid the eyes and ears
And move along the right path
Their way
Their path
Then one day you may become
Sentient, able to think and decide
And wish for attention
And gaze at the other path
Your way
Your path
And the screeching harpies are lost
Forgotten in the halls of time
Your journey in this life
Runs along the happy path
The right way
The right path
Organized religion pushing harder into people’s lives. Each claiming their way is the only way. Going so far as to advocate hatred against each other for being “the wrong path”.
Dark Fae
Dark Fae
Dark clouds gather, threatening tower
The rain that comes is more than a shower
Thunder explodes as lightning crashes
The world is exposed in quickening flashes
The Dark Fae unleashes her power
The winds gather up to now twist and turn
The funnel is formed, it’s time for concern
The sound is likened to a roaring train
Roofs peel back and welcome the rain
The Dark Fae’s spell will churn
The Earth starts to rumble, pitch and shake
Chasms open where hot lava will bake
Mountains will sunder collapse and fall
Oceans rush in and cover it all
The Dark Fae knows what to take
The people will cry, lament and then abate
And rebuild their lives it’s a time to create
The light will return, shadow will fade
The tides of fear are now delayed
The Dark Fae pushes her spell to sedate
All will be good and in time it will heal
And soon to forget the impending doom’s feel
Life will be like rainbows and flowers
Until the day the clouds rise as towers
And the Dark Fae laughs and destroys with zeal
The confusing and very sad cycle of refusing to understand the message of Nature. The message to leave certain areas be. The message carried by her strongest winds, her highest tides, the messages delivered and ignored again and again.
> Casualty
Casualty
You were the first to fall
Autocrat’s bullet in the ball
Tried with no court at all
No defense for you to call
Banished to a nether realm
Crushed to dirt, a fallen elm
They striped your golden helm
A sacrifice to honor them
In your place stands a void
But our volley will be deployed
Your name will stand, not destroyed
The autocrat will be annoyed
Your friends will keep you alive
Joy from memories we will derive
All the while we plot and connive
We will make sure your memory will thrive.
An ode to all the first to breech the lines. The first to stand up and speak, the first to point out the wrongs and generally the first to become a casualty. But there must be one for a revolution to exist. If there is none then all that is left is apathy.
Lioness of the Desert
Lioness of the Desert
The sun hangs over the ancient desert
Hot, burning, scorching all it can cover
The heat of her father burns in her heart
Consuming every friend, foe, and lover
Protector of Pharaohs, rulers of Egypt
Terrible, menacing in her fiercest wrath
Warrior goddess of death and destruction
Her enemy’s blood is now her bath
Yet tenderly healing her strong dying kings
Standing by them when judgment is sounded
Leading them into their final battle after death
Then setting their spirits free and unbounded
Dressed in red, your favorite color of blood
Except when you’re not dressed at all
The lioness eyes, muzzle, and braided hair
The fleeting features witness the enemy fall
Created by your father Ra, gleaned from a fiery eye
Sent to destroy his enemies, mortals of the lower Nile
Your task you finished with a wild zealous joy
Until almost all of humanity fell before your smile
Warrior goddess your breath created the desert
Tasked with the most important charge of all
Sekhemet you are called, the one who is powerful
Your image shines from obelisk, tomb, and wall
The ultimate figure of anger and wrath. The Goddess Sekhemet created to destroy the enemies of Ra. Her anger became rage and in her zeal the entire human race was almost lost. A testament to anger.
Section 03: Heartfelt Poetry
Alexa Dawn
Alexa Dawn
Curious little fingers in places they shouldn’t be,
Smiles the defense on everything done wrong
Infectious laughter and mischievous little eyes
I couldn’t live a day without my Alexa Dawn
Arguing to stay awake hours after bedtime calls
Waking up to greet the day with fuzzy slippers on
Asking if I want a drink from a very wet sippy cup
I wouldn’t trade a day that has my Alexa Dawn
She’s Daddy’s Little Princess and carries it in style
Pretty in pink even when singing an off-key song
Happiest when her Babe joins her on a play piano
I couldn’t imagine a life without my Alexa Dawn
Serving make believe tea and make believe cookies
Outrageous and outlandish and never ever withdrawn
As full of life and love and happiness as any child could be
My own life is truly blessed because of Alexa Dawn
Of course fathers love their sons but it is the daughters who truly capture them. The smiles, the hugs and the laughter all create a web that every man is willing to allow himself to be wrapped in.
MyGypsy
My Gypsy
Gypsy moves through my dream
Fluid and silent calm and serene
Dances in circles, tambourine beat
Rings on her fingers bells on her feet
Smiles seductively my mysterious fem
Lips full and red, drawing me into them
Arms hold me tight, around me entwine
My Gypsy dances my body through time
Years slip away, returning youthful glee
My Gypsy tells me she loves me.
Much like a welcomed rainstorm to one who has crossed a desert, a woman’s love can bring life back to the dead, hope back to the forsaken and dreams back to the hopeless. That woman is usually a mystery to the life she has saved.
Passion’s Wings
Passion’s Wings
On golden wings of promise,
like a ship that crosses the sea,
my heart longs to be with you.
Unburdened, full, and free.
Twas in the dawn of my time
brought from ash and fire.
Your touch guided my path
and found my secret desire.
Through sword and talon of steel,
illuminated in heroic flame.
Together we conquered all we saw.
The Gods called out your name.
Glory was ours but a faithless act,
allowed the enemy to take my heart.
Imprisoned it in a snowy globe,
To keep our love apart.
But a stranger came, a thief at night,
and stole the globe away.
Bringing it to a distant shore,
in the warmth of a brand new day.
And so it was the sun touched me,
With all its warm, healing rays.
And soon my fires lit once more,
ending my prisoned days.
So now I search the wide, wide Earth,
Trying to find where you can be
On golden wings of passions flight,
Your Phoenix flies to your memory.
The story of the Phoenix. The mythical firebird becomes the symbol of the passion between two lovers. When they separate the fire dwindles and flickers out. The Phoenix was lucky when his prison was returned to the sun but now spends his days looking for something gone forever.
Angel
Angel
Falling fast through ethereal skies
Past the moon’s darker side
Seeking loves lost and gone away
Forgoing all my pride
Torn from a world of giddy laughter
Cast into heartless despair
Overpowered by emotionless cries
More false tears to spare
Savaged in this new confusing world
Designed to be discarded
Set aside and forgotten completely
Alone and broken hearted
Falling fast through ethereal skies
A voice cries out to me
Passion is not lost just changed
My heart is yours to see
My angel stopped that deadly fall
Her heart my safety net
Returned to fly in ethereal skies
This love I’ll not regret.
Love lost brings people to the brink of destruction at times. And just as things seem lost and gone forever a voice calls through the darkness and a heart is offered. Love once again begins to take root and blossom.
Mother
Mother
Blue, green, clear
Reflecting the skies
Kissing sand, rock
Softly
With hardness
With fury
Like passion it changes
Gentle to tumultuous
Slow to furious
Foam capped like wild horses
Rushes to the sand
Pipers scatter as it approaches
It gave life a start
It keeps life going
It takes life away
It is a calming mother
Gently rocking you r />
Or an angry banshee
Tossing you about
It is the ocean the mother of life
The Goddess incarnate
She lives within the waves
She calls from the depths
She gave life and shapes it still
My Goddess, my ocean
Sometimes faith becomes the rock in one’s life. That piece they draw their strength from, faith is not set in any one path. It lies on the path that calls to you. Deity becomes what you feel it to be. In this poem the Mother is the Sea.
Section 04: Assorted Poetry
You Don’t Know Me
You Don’t Know Me
You put yourself in danger
Risking all you have and more
But you don’t know me.
Who I am or what I do.
You don’t know anything about me.
My color or sex
My religion or political affiliation.
You don’t know if I support you
And what you do
Or if I protest against you
And those who order you to do the things you do.
You don’t know any of this
And yet you still risk your life for me.
It is because of you that poets can dream
And bankers can count their money
And teachers can teach
And different religions can flourish here.
It is because of you that protesters can speak
Loudly against you
And politicians can pass laws
That hurt you.
The same politicians who charged you this task.
You sleep in dirt at times
Or you don’t sleep at all for far too many hours
And eat food that most of us would throw away.
You walk in blazing heat
Sweltering humidity
Monsoon rains
Daytime, nighttime
Any time you are told to do so
You do all of this for me...
And you don’t even know me.
Thank you.