Rumple Stein has a terrifying
midnight warning for children
who look for a late- night snack.
Deep within the woods
where the old shadows grow,
Rumple Stein whispers a secret
you must know.
"Never sneak a cookie when
the midnight bell tolls,
For that is the hour when the
beast truly strolls."
His voice is like gravel, his
eyes gleam with spite,
Warning little children of the
terrors in the night.
"The Cookie Monster waits in
the dark, cold and grim,
If you steal a treat, you will
surely meet him."
A shadow will stretch out
across the kitchen floor,
As a blue furry claw softly
pushes the door.
He won't want a wafer, a chip,
or a chew,
Instead, the fierce beast will
come hunting for you!
Your bones will be crumbled
like a dry chocolate chip,
As he catches your sleeve in
his terrible grip.
With a terrifying growl from his
bottomless cup,
The hungry blue gobbler will
swallow you up!
So lock up the cookie jar when the
clock strikes the hour,
Before you are trapped in the
monster's grim power.
No crumbs will remain where
you stood on the floor,
And the kitchen will stay silent
forevermore.
They built their homes of crystal praise,
Then sold us bricks of shame.
Each window gleamed with spotless haze,
While every neighbor took the blame.
The mayor preached of modest needs
From a throne of imported gold.
He watered plastic virtue seeds
And called the harvest brave and bold.
The gossip queen wore angel wings,
White feathers pinned with spite.
She blessed the town with wholesome things,
Then sharpened rumors every night.
The preacher cursed the gamblers' vice,
His sermon fierce and loud.
Yet counted silver twice and thrice
Behind a curtain, safe from crowd.
We watched them hurl their polished stones,
A sport the righteous love.
The glass sang back in cracking tones
Like judgment from above.
By dawn, their mansions sparkled less,
The fractures plain to see.
For every saint who plays at perfection
Leaves fingerprints on hypocrisy.
Kindness and Love
by Kevin Davis, 2024
Seek to learn what makes you whole,
The kindness and love that live in your soul.
A whisper gentle, from heavens above,
Guiding your steps with the light of love.
It’s found in a hand that reaches in need,
In the quiet grace of a selfless deed.
It shines in the words that comfort and care,
In prayers unspoken, in moments we share.
Kindness, the bridge that binds us all,
Love, the answer both mighty and small.
Together we weave a tapestry bright,
A lantern to lead through the darkest night.
So, open your heart, let your spirit be free,
Spread kindness and love like waves on the sea.
For in giving, life’s true meaning is shown—
Through kindness and love, our strength is grown.
Keep your face lifted, your smile aglow,
Embrace those around you, let warmth overflow.
Turn from the voices that darken with spite,
They offer no comfort, no joy, no light.
For all hearts seek a way to be whole,
And kindness and love are food for the soul.
So, hold to your values, let goodness remain,
The whisper of heaven will echo again.
Kindness and Love - Adult
by Kevin Davis, 2024
Seek to learn what makes you whole,
The kindness and love that live in your soul.
A whisper gentle, from heavens above,
Guiding your steps with the light of love.
It’s found in a hand that reaches in need,
In the quiet grace of a selfless deed.
It shines in the words that comfort and care,
In prayers unspoken, in moments we share.
Kindness, the bridge that binds us all,
Love, the answer both mighty and small.
Together we weave a tapestry bright,
A lantern to lead through the darkest night.
So, open your heart, let your spirit be free,
Spread kindness and love like waves on the sea.
For in giving, life’s true meaning is shown—
Through kindness and love, our strength is grown.
Keep your face lifted, your smile aglow,
Embrace those around you, let warmth overflow.
Turn from the voices that darken with spite,
They offer no comfort, no joy, no light.
For all hearts seek a way to be whole,
And kindness and love are food for the soul.
So, hold to your values, let goodness remain,
The whisper of heaven will echo again.
Everyone wants a piece of me
They think it’s free
Bite after bite
They do it with spite
Biting to the bone
Never leaving me alone
Hour by hour they devour
I taste sour
They want to eat me whole
Swallow my soul
Bite after bite
They do it every night
Eating me alive
I try to survive
I'm no quitter
I taste bitter
Oil and water do not mix
So much as you and I
cannot hold the same space
We can no longer come together without something in between us as if it was gluing us with spite
for the extra effort
We breathe with viscous flow and utter words of contempt
We do not mix
Yet they all say
we are a montage
A Name's Worth
Names etched in stone,
Graffiti'd with pain,
Destroyed, yet not gone,
Echoes remain.
It's hard to keep a name,
When hands erase with spite,
But I won't give up the claim,
My name holds through the fight.
In streets, in halls of fame,
A name's the mark we bear,
Though torn and worn with time,
It's worth the struggle, beyond compare.
I'll hold on to mine,
A symbol of my past,
A beacon for my future's design,
My name, forever to last.
Mr. Phiri Enock Phiri Reigns
She came down screaming, cloaked in flame,
A bolt of spite, no soul to tame.
From hilltop high she cast her spell—
The art of slander, taught too well.
They built her shrines in whispered breath,
In gossip’s grip, they danced with death.
Her tongue, a blade that cuts unseen,
Yet worshiped like some vengeful queen.
She taught them how to twist the truth,
To poison joy, corrupt the youth.
No proof required, no facts to weigh—
Just sharpened words to flay and flay.
I walk beneath her shadowed reign,
Each rumor like a drop of rain.
It floods my name, it stains my skin,
A war I never asked to win.
They speak as if their hearts are stone,
No warmth, no grace, just undertone.
Their minds are mirrors cracked with spite,
Reflecting only what’s not right.
No thought of kindness, no repair,
Just venom laced in vacant stare.
They feed on fear, they starve on hope,
And swing their lies like braided rope.
Yet still I rise, though torn and bruised,
Refusing to be so misused.
For truth, though quiet, holds its ground—
And Slanderella will be drowned.
Jealousy is not the portion of the unsuccessful alone;
even the prosperous are consumed with envy.
Jealousy is not the lot of the poor;
even the wealthy are corrupted with spite.
Jealousy is not the flaw of the worldly alone;
even the religious carry it behind sacred veils.
Jealousy is not the preserve of the unlearned;
even the educated are not spared its poison.
Jealousy is not the garment of the uncivilized;
even the well-travelled are ensnared by it still.
If jealousy be the final stage into witchery,
then no wonder even the exalted cast the darkest spells.
My Silent confessions were echoes retrieved,
from layers of longings, Often dreamt of with care.
My thoughts were well hidden, Lest others perceived,
the ring of Inane truths I could let slip out, into the air,
when angst sent Laments lilting out, when not just right.
I posed the questions I Often cradled with spite,
answering all the Queries I never wanted to hear,
hoping to wrap them all Up in one giant tear,
to be shed with a Yen to be rid of them all,
In a Speech to myself in a long drawn out drawl.
As the sun rises, hope spreads its wings.
Although confined to the eternal night
The sun reaching their love through human minds
As the sun rises, hope spreads its wings.
The rays' strength recurring
The shadows couldn't stop it.
As the sun rises, hope spreads its wings.
Although confined to the eternal night
As the sun rises, hope spreads its wings.
It emerges as a dove singing.
It was still shining bright.
Although confined to the eternal night
With the stars putting up a fight
It would always be with spite.
And yet I see within those eyes,
Not a beast in disguise,
But prey with unheard cries,
To it's faith it'll never know,
That whimpers and hinders,
Heady flame sunk in snow,
One that had not yet roared in anger,
One that had not yet learnt to bite,
As hard and harsh,
And filled with spite,
To darken misty air,
A growing girl,
Who sang with flair,
Who dreamed of heaven and fairies,
And neater, straighter hair.
Yet married a man so cold,
Yet strong, yet bold,
For he would hold her til he's old,
For the autumn, winter and summertime, sold
Her body beneath her clothe.
Barefoot and pregnant,
An orphaned widow by divorce,
She'd use that voice she used to sing,
To yell to cry,
but not to think,
To her children she died,
To herself she never lived,
"You live a loveless life,
You marry a loveless man,
You do your best,
And take what you can."
Ephemera, a short lived life
of cherished times before the strife
meandered into detritus
with depth enough to bury thus
beneath the memories with spite.
Photographs torn up by his wife,
the shreds did cut him like a knife,
and nevermore did he discuss
ephemera!
Will his life soon be free from rife,
will he discern a golden fife
to lead him on without a fuss,
down new pathways where he can trust
treasure in the scraps of his life's
ephemera?
I have zero regard
for structure and form
if the words as written work
A poetic outlaw
to ruled acceptance
in search of what may lurk
Critics and enemies
seed the cloud
that overflows with spite
To rain upon
my chosen path
— of radical delight
(Bryn Mawr College: January, 2024)
There was never a stiller night
Before that seemed so brim with spite
Whose heavy fingers pressed my window
Which forked a tongue of lightning glow
That spoke at length with my state of blight.
Spider webs for clarity of thought
Snakes that hissed silently and were fraught
With hatred, were each my companion
Each rivaling to have dominion
But neither one respected my lot
And burning within those surly clouds
Was the stench of fear as a shroud
That surrendered not a word nor clue
As to what I must or mustn't do
To quell the voice within and without.
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