The Queen's Slippers - Part 1
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Look at the eyes, windows of the soul.
Then the intent, link below.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc9En9WUzI8
"The Queen's Slippers - Part 1"
There is an owl it perches
on my heart
digs it’s talons in like
nine inch nails piercing
thick skin gone thin
it softly hoots, too diabolical
for screeching
watches me with frozen
yellow-eyed silent contempt
vengeful ferocity one blink
it doesn’t think
the need to kill is instinctual.
Rising up wings beating in my throat
there goes my heart
like a tiny pale grey mouse
not seen, not missed
breathing it’s last breath unable to escape
the uselessness of fighting “IT” – So, release,
release, no point in crying, who would hear?
Release, blue dopamine floods, neurotransmitter rains,
die a silent death no more kangaroo court uneducated,
unenlightened, prying, cruel intention games;
clenched squeezing life force, sucked up blown back
captive in barbed wire talons,
smothered in a serotonin fluffy chest of feathered down
defenselessness fits over my heart’s head
like a foreign, prickly, bad-fitting
Rose Thorn Crown
Some sacred religious assassin
it hovers, shows the story of Christmas Past
before it swallows it’s final feast -
the hooded girl is
driven away in a time machine
such an ignorant huntsman
superior, vain, convinced
he’s part of a big story, puffed up chest lobbying
like a corrupt politician,
Aspbergers is a rather lame excuse,
in reality, he’s rather dull and boring, obtuse
he’s consorting with unknowns
for a savior leader-of-the-pack
homecoming glory,
gambles two precious hearts,
Queen’s Slippers (not his)
as minor chips, consorting with unknowns
sitting in the other camp, classically de-throned;
he’s no card sharp, they’re playing something well-known,
they're playing with a full deck,
Hearts are Trumps...
The Pied Piper is playing his flute
King Rat is playing the tune Home.
The Owl is hovering, talons ever tighter
“See?” It hoots, “You’ll never win.”
I turn, as best I can,
“I’m not dead yet.”, I grin.
I’m locked in the Tower.
Does the bird hold me?
Perhaps, I hold The Bird.
Locked in with an Owl in my Ivory Tower
I’ve kept the best card until last,
the most powerful to possess,
I hold the hidden
BOWER.
(Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018)
“A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path."
Agatha Christie - The Last Seance
(from The Hound of Death and Other Stories)
Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018
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