All the fairytale violence
Life’s too Grimm already
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C O N S C I O U S N E S S
Let Red Riding Hood bloody-hack the wolf to death…
Let the sleeping beauty jam an apple down the witch’s throat…
Let Hansel and Gretal pull out all the witch’s teeth
without putting her to sleep…
Let Cinderella make her stepmother step in shards of glass
while she whistles and laughs…
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Life’s too Grimm already
I just can’t…
deep in the thorns where the shadows creep
where roses bleed and dreamers sleep
a horned queen waits with hollow eyes
weaving doom in silken lies
her whispers slither through the air
a viper’s kiss, a lover’s snare
her laughter cracks like brittle bone
a crown of night, a heart of stone
one prick, one drop, the world unwinds
the spindle hums, the darkness binds
no hero’s blade, no plea, no prayer
can wake you from her wicked snare
so hush, my dear, and close your eyes
the thorns have grown, the kingdom dies
Axioms, theorems, rules of thumb
hypotheses, conundrums
Pursuers of knowledge, those Brothers Grimm ~
Hansel and Gretel’s trail of crumbs
Wiley witches frolic with unabashed glee
A natural dance, they are blessed be….
An October playground that you can see.
Halloween prance in their minds like a melody.
A playfulness they take on, we must agree
Celebrating the power of the mighty she
They scared the Grimm Brothers to a tea,
Who were jealous of witches and totally.
April 6th The Messenger Dog of God
One day
While studying in Rome
As a priest
I notice a small white dog
Staring at me
He glances at me
Indicating that I am to follow him
I get up
And follow this strange dog
He leads me deep
Inside the hidden depths
Of the Vatican
Finally stopping by a door
I open the door
And see St Peter there
He smiles
Dismisses the dog
Who moves on down the hall
Finished with his cosmic duty
As the secret messenger of God
All in a days work
I ask why am I here?
St Peter says
Why are any of us here?
It is time for you to go
But I don’t want to go
Don’t want to leave this mortal plane
St Peter smiles
Says it is time to go
I wake up
Back in my bed
With my wife
And realize it was all a dream
It was not yet time
To go
But I am afraid
I will find the messenger dog
Outside my door
Any day now
The grim reaper waits
And it will soon be my time
Jacob and Wilhelm are the Brothers Grimm
Whose tales of horror flow over cup's brim
I heard that some who have read
Were cursed and later found dead
The chance that you will survive is quite slim
~September 16, 2017~
Name Dropper Limerick
hosted by: Kevin Shaw
"Political power grows out of the barrel
of a gun" - Mao Zedong.
North Korea has nuclear;
current regime's fear
of falling out is clear.
China, Philippines, Japan,
and Taiwan all claim possession
of South China sea -
China claims it owns the sea
because it has the name China
on it.
Syrian warfare is like venom
of different animals mixed
together in a dark blender;
you can't tell who's ISIS, al-qaeda,
Hizbollah, Iranian agents,
Syrian rebels or Regime Forces.
A North Korean sub is missing in the sea;
no one knows what's next....
Russia and United States have differences
on how Syrian War should be handled.
Myriads of Syrian refugees cry at the gates
of Europe;
like Mary and Joseph in the Inn,
there's a few people letting them in.
Dalai Lama still cries for freedom
for the Tibetans.
Corruption still eats away economies
in African counties and national cakes.
Donald Trump wants an America
with no immigrants-
I think he's saying goodbye
to globalisation.
Boko Haram want to create a Caliphate
empire across West Africa.
Politics, the Grimm Reaper,
is here and listening!
My sir name is not Grimm and this is not a fairytale.
On nights when wolves howl and the moon is pale,
I become another being when my arms begin to flail.
I wrestle with the urge to stop, but always to no avail.
I bit into a poisoned apple and thought I would die.
Peering back at me in the mirror, I saw an evil eye.
I shrieked in fear and doubled over. I began to cry.
What nightmare is this and pray tell me, who am I?
Last month I pricked my finger and flew off in a rage.
My beastly hands caught a rabbit and put it in a cage.
What madness grips me and sends me off in rampage?
I want out of this cruel story. Hurry and turn the page!
Recently I was transformed into a creature, rather droll.
I remember in a book, that under a bridge lived a troll,
and when people stumbled upon him, while on a stroll,
He made them pay but I eat them. I'm out of control.
It seems I'm walking through some creepy forest tonight.
Stars watch me through dead branches. Do they have sight?
Furry hands once again and I'm growing to a great height.
Damned full moon is haunting me. I cannot escape its light.
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