King Henry the eight looked up and caught glimpse of another beauty
She had a thin waist, long gorgeous auburn hair, and youth.
She was gorgeous!
He wrote an order to be handed to his enforcer
"come and get this one
I have my eye on another woman
chop off her head
call her an adulterer
take her to the guillotine
I am in love again"
She is cross eyed someone argued.
I ignored this, for I did not care.
And she slashes her sword the wrong direction.
Up and down in the air.
She wears her captain hat crooked.
It is always falling off her head.
I ignored their bantering,
I was wanting to fall asleep instead.
How can she be the pirate king? One asked.
She never follows through with even one task.
I did not care. I did not care.
I gave them a mean paw, straight up in the air.
Grandmother elephant’s sneezes were loud and long.
They came from her gut and they were incredibly strong.
They started the moment she put on her new hat someone said.
You mean the floral arrangement that is plunked down on her head?
There were lilies and cone flowers and roses too.
The flowers were in pastels, scarlet, pink and winterly blue.
She has hay fever, she is allergic! Said her doctor. Take it off her head
I grabbed my steel machete and chopped off her head.
She is dead now, she is dead now, she is cement dead.
My first husband slept through it, I can hear him snore.
I got my boss, I can get you too, I say, my imagination full of gore.
My hazel eyes pop open and I realize I have done it again.
I kill my boss nightly, in my dream world, surely this is a sin.
But she deserves it, I think. My latest review was mean.
She is haughty and stuck up, fancies herself a queen.
During the day at work I pretend I like this arrogant woman a lot.
I fawn and grovel, pretending she is not Kansas City's biggest snot.
Today she was talking college words way above my head again.
I visualized myself cutting her measly throat, surely this is a sin.
Are you with me? She haughtily asked as she graphed.
I saw the ornamental sword on the wall and I laughed.
Seeing her head rolling around on the floor helped me a lot.
I cannot wait to see what I do in my dream tonight to the snot.
School was out for annual Christmas break
Ice and snow hung around many a week
A friend and I did what one should not do
Went onto a frozen canal to skate
Some lads we knew were giving us some cheek
Boohoo
One lad pinched my friends hat from off her head
Chased him I did, what came next haunts me so
Iced cracked and yes I was in for the swim
The boys were brilliant, I could've been dead
Bravo!
The Speaker Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
A magical faerie horse pranced on my window sill.
Waking me up when she whispered “Hey Bill”.
Purple with sheer happiness, she ate pickles dill.
She told me this immediately, then ate her fill.
I did not even know those pickles were there I said.
She laughed so hard her mane flew off her head.
Are you real? I asked her as I blinked from my bed.
Or have I died? Am I a spirit or kind of dead?
The magical faerie horse comes nightly now.
She prances around; her shows are a wow.
She still calls me Bill, which seems rather odd.
And sometimes she brings me her cat, Ole Clod.
Ole Clod is a terror, who calls me Luke.
He is a mouse-chaser, whom you cannot rebuke.
You can try to ignore him but he’ll claw you up.
He usually arrives after a late chili sup.
I was breathing brick mad.
Fire truck kick off the side of a cliff bad.
My face was fury full.
There was no hiding it.
I was infuriated,
Wishing I had a machete or a sword.
Slicing off her head, or her hand
Might have been a bit of satisfaction.
I had been way too good to her.
I spent the day thinking how ungrateful she is.
Thinking how embarrassing it is to be this betrayed.
Wondering how I could make her pay, and in a mean way.
I was banshee-screaming, crying, wailing, sailing mad.
I threw things around, cut things up, and sliced up wallpaper.
Nothing was safe. I was in full revenge girl mode.
Wailing and keening did not help. I was breathing brick mad.
Written Feb. 10, 2019
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
Contest: Capture the Emotion
You don’t need the deer
Your grandfather’s perk
The skill of his kill
Preserved head of a dead
And wormeaten body
Formaldehyde face
Eyes chilled black
Lips lifeless and knowing their place.
You don’t need a taciturn taxiderm treasure
Pokerface saddled
On a laquered wooden plaque.
You have the byproduct
Of your singular skill,
And each night and day
Slowly,
You gnaw off her head.
She simmered in the warmth of his gaze
Sugar of his lips set her ablaze
Skin quivered at his slightest touch
Changing hues-red, crimson and such
A look at herself now, in the mirror
Skin pale with no trace of color
Sunken eyes set in deep dark rings
Painfully waiting for the end cancer brings
Picturing him in someone else’s bed
A thought she couldn’t shake off her head
That night, she plunged the dagger
He would always belong to her
Written on :07/18/2016
Earlier submitted for contest:'Limerence' by Nayda Ivette Negron
Marie Antoinette
A crowd she upset
To guillotine was led
They cut off her head
5/30/15
Thunderous is the sound of Black
darkening the sky and
booming with a loud crack
Soothing is the sound of Green
leaves dancing in the breeze
and making one feel serene
Loud is the sound of Red
blood streaming from someone
screaming off her head
Silence is the sound of Blue
in a clear sunny sky which is
very tranquillizing too
Crunchy is the sound of White
icy snow lying on the ground
creating a beautiful sight
Mellow is the sound of Yellow
leaves sighing in the breeze
while falling to the earth below
Babbling is the sound of Colourless
water flowing in a rippling brook
on a ground filled with bumpiness
Boisterous is the sound of Crimson
rage from an angry mob
who pay no heed to reason
Whispering is the sound of Pink
flushed skin of sensuality
with an aphrodisiac drink
Pompous is the sound of Purple
representing royalty and
other aristocratic people
There once was a girl named Abigail Hook
She was a girl who knew how to cook
A pleasant woman she became known
But the darker side of her was never shown
It was a dark and stormy night
A little girl was lost with fright
Abigail told her to come in from the rain
As the girl came in, she felt no more pain
Abigail offered her a wee bit of snack
While eating, Abigail put her coat on the girl’s back.
“Tasty and crunchy”, the little girl said
As she looked in a jar, she fainted flat on the bed
When the girl woke up, she was tied to the floor
There were bars on every window, and chains on the door
Abigail was standing there, just to linger
And the girl noticed that she just ate someone’s finger
“You must swear to tell no one about this”
The girl said, “Wait until the town hears about this”
Abigail took a needle and pierced it into her lips
Chopped off her head, and cut her body into teeny bits
She made the girl a shrunken head,
Turned to me and said, “Say a word and you’re the next one dead.”
there was a boy named don
he never did anything wrong
then one day he met haley
who was a little bit shady
they began to date
their lives were filled with
one day they decided
to live amongest the
so haley chopped off her head
don was so depressed
so he pressed
a knife to neck
and in a sec
he sliced his throt
The rose grows unbalanced to the right
Because she is deprived of light,
Water is scarce, but when it can run,
The rose soaks it up and leans into the sun,
Her thorns are stunted and endearingly tender,
Though this means they do not have strength to defend her,
Her petals are thin and so easily torn,
Such a delicate flower the bush never had borne,
But far fairer roses selfishly surround her,
And this is how the gardener found her.
So pull out her petals so pretty and pale,
And break off her prickles so fragile and frail,
Then cut off her head and leave her to decay,
Tend the wilier roses and just walk away.
And as her sap weeps as she withers and rots,
The rose is watched smugly by the flowers in their pots,
And as she lies dying in darkness on the floor,
They turn to the sun and lounge in it some more,
And when the rain washes the dead rose away,
The flowers are asleep and have nothing to say.
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