"Listen closely," Rumple Stein
cackled, his yellow eyes
scanning the terrified faces
of the children huddled
around the campfire.
"A massive, hairy Bigfoot
stalks the foggy mountains,
sniffing the chilly night air for
a very specific scent."
"This towering beast
possesses a terrible, burning
fury against children who
refuse to do their homework."
"Because some kids don't do
their homework, the furious
monster swore to hunt down
every single lazy child."
"He tracks the scent of blank
pages and hidden schoolbooks
straight to your campground tents!"
"He wants to stomp slacker
kids to a pulp to punish them
for neglecting their daily education!"
He suddenly jumped to his
feet, throwing his hands high
as the wind howled through
the branches.
"And when he catches a lazy
student, "Rumple Stein roared,
"he crushes them with his giant
feet!"
The terrified children
immediately reached into
their backpacks, pulling out
their folders in absolute panic.
They frantically began
scribbling their spelling
words by the dim, flickering
light of the dying fire.
The row of hydro flasks standing proud on seminar desks,
The red splat outside the door of our flat made
Coz they wouldn't let me put my pressure cooker into venting mode in the kitchen.
Venting mode is what my flatmates are switched to coz of my mess one day,
But the next they are chuckling
'Bout how I mopped without getting the crud off the floor.
It is knocking on each others' doors with our fists when sober,
Flopping in when drunk.
It is thinking, wow, since my flatmate won't date me,
Her boyf must be a real hunk.
University is the range of washing up liquid colours
And the cluster of tomatoey scran in the freezer,
But also Groundhog Day with linguistics lecturers asking us
What we call a bread roll and how we say ‘bath’.
When will I wash it all off?
No speech, no thoughts,
Quiet is what they want.
So that is what they get.
I will never speak about love or respect-
For anyone, so I will still as a stone.
Cold, frozen, and hard as bone,
But bones can still break and crack.
Pressure, consistently adding to the stack,
Of many worries that hide inside of me,
And they do not know or see
Anxiety, is the name,
Of the thing that came,
When my friends said.
“Love with him is dead...”
Love, do I know you?
Then why can't I recollect
A single time I dared to say
I loved someone
With no trace of my family in them?
Sometimes, drowning
In the rabbithole,
I'd wonder, and then realise
I'd never admitted to myself,
That I too had my dose
Of crushes and elusive love,
The usual spice of adolescence.
Do I need to be different for you to love me,
In a crowd of extravagant dresses,
Wear a plain white one
In a room of plain dresses,
Wear a dress that shines as bright as the sun?
Do I need to be pretty for you to love me,
For you to glance my way,
And immediately know we could live together in peace and harmony?
Do I need to surprise you for you to love me?
You being used to peace
And me energetically taking you out of your comfort?
Do I need to hate you for you to love me?
If they say opposites attract,
Will that attract you to me?
Isn’t it enough if I love you—
Understand you, cry with you,
Comfort you, laugh at your jokes
No one else laughs at,
Care for you?
Or is it because of the fact
I’m not the female lead
That you don’t love me.
I latest piece is too long the poem section - so it's in "Short Stories."
It's called "world cartoon"
I could shorten it - but why? *shrug* Here's the link:
www.poetrysoup.com/short_stories/world_cartoon_10787
I hope you like it!
(Senryu poems about crushes)
That awkward moment
when you're caught day-dreamily
staring at your crush.
You know that tingly
feeling when you start to crush?
It's common sense leaving.
The fantasies that
you indulge about your
crush are scandalous.
You can’t seduce
your crush because self-worth
crumbles up close.
.
.
**A crush is an intense infatuation for someone unattainable or inappropriate**
Spider had his eye on Bee Woman for a long time
Before he made his move, catching her in his web.
He loved watching her wiggle and jiggle in her prime.
Are you going to watch her or eat her? Asked his cousin Jeb.
I am going to let her struggle, then rescue her myself, he said.
She will be so grateful, she will begin dating me and stuff.
But before he could get to her, another spider did, named Ned.
They had a battle over Bee Woman, and it was rough!
Empty Ice cream cartoons lay abandoned on the floor. A cliche film playing in the background, a tale of heartbreak and sorrow. A night where tears flow freely, finally spilling out after years of waiting. The question was answered.
And before their eyes shut, the girl looked towards her best friend who held her all night. And she let out her final question before she let go.
"Do they call them crushes because when they don't like you back they crush you?"
The best friend looked at her friend sadly, trying to bring light back.
"I don't know, but I hope they don't. You're too strong for a boy to crush you. Too strong for the world to crush you. Too good for anything at all."
And the girl teared up, this was all she needed right now. A cliche setting, a movie, and a best friend to hold her together.
Devil's advocate does not exist
So much for the strangling mist!
To pop devil in the head
Second thought; he's worse than dead
So why should I even rejoice?
Be alive; follow God - that is my choice!
Let fruits of Spirit ripen within
To love a life can then begin!
When you look back on all your old crushes.
And that first kiss, when all the adrenaline rushes.
On that first date, when your stomach was in knots with butterflies.
But getting her in your arms was better than the highest highs.
It is so great to feel that connection.
Showing her you care by your affection.
Then she reminds you its not a race,
when stealing first and heading to second base.
Remembering all your mistakes and when you couldn't wait,
to say I love you, but its only our first date.
The best is when you are nervous about holding hands.
Being overly protective and claiming these are my lands.
Knowing that everything is in place and just right.
When you knew it was going to be a special night.
You couldn't see out of the car windows because of the steam.
The night you fulfilled your every wish, desire and dream.
Parking bay, crazy slots, for the desperate,
The one way entry to women drivers meet?
Sole paparazzi shot with killer instinct,
No reserve for insane, sidelined, extinct.
Incredible passion in body positions,
Atop or under between rattling degrees,
Bottoms in play with a Casanova streak,
Head light flashes explode in their touch and kiss.
A rub to the left smashing colors in tights,
Tongue in cheek metal crunches the perfection,
Smiley faces ignore the big bang theory,
Waterloo for disobedient cars of might.
News-room rushes, the main agenda heaps displayed,
Urgent rental services now go astray,
Nervous women drivers take safe taxi's home,
Men aghast at the picture’s vagary?
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