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Kristina Reid-Hansen Poem
This is a story, short, but true
About a woman who had eyes that were black and blue.
About a man who can eat things ten times his size,
And a dog who was considered to be amazingly wise
They lived in a land of shades of four,
And lived in a cave which had no door
But that's not the point I want to make
Because the things I just said are truly fake
But the story is of a man who juggled his head
And when he got bored he'd play dead
He had one friend and his name was Tom
Tom made a bomb which killed his mom
He became very dull, empty, and grim
But moving along, for the story is not of him.
It's about a woman who had turn green
Sick from all the beauty she had seen
Wait! The story is not about her either,
This story pertains to a boy eating a beaver
O'boy, I just can’t get this right!
I think it’s about a girl who lost her arm in a fight.
Or of a guy who collected decapitated heads,
Or of a baby who sold bear traps as beds.
Once upon a time the sun lost its shine,
Once upon a time we all came from slime
I better make this story end right now,
Before I tell the story of the man who birthed a cow.
Copyright © Kristina Reid-Hansen | Year Posted 2011
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Kristina Reid-Hansen Poem
This is a small part of story that I am working on to be published in my book of 12 stories.
She resumed in trekking; still searching for a way out
When something caught her eye which appeared to be a route.
Confidence grabbed the reigns in her chest, filling it with air;
Her breathing and her heartbeat tripled for she was almost there.
But as the path ended so did her mirage of nirvana.
It led her to a basin filled with red-bellied piranha,
Caiman alligators, and electric eels
Imagination was the one in her head turning the wheels
Sending pulses down her spine which reeked of fear
Forcing confidence to be evicted through each crying tear.
But her cries for help could not be heard
For the jungle’s trees kidnapped every word
The sun squinted his eyes through the trees in the west
“A bridge!” she gasped. She began to feel blessed
Sarah had to move quick; a race against the clock.
Night plus blood equals animals on the stalk
Please rate =))
Copyright © Kristina Reid-Hansen | Year Posted 2011
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Kristina Reid-Hansen Poem
Walking alone in the middle of the night
Holding hands with the cold in the pale moon light
I hear more than my footsteps; look over my back
The shadows from the trees were on the attack
I walked a bit faster, my heart began to race
The mist from my breath teased the skin on my face
Should I make a right? But I look to the left
In between my imagination and reason sat a cleft
I began to panic, but what the heck for?
Because fear was of the essence and nothing more
Sounds ricocheted off of who knows where
Like a scene displaced from your worst nightmare
Something was watching or following me
I was just waiting for something to jump out of a tree
Or grab my shoulder or touch my back
Causing me to urinate before I have a heart attack
I took a deep breath and leaned against the next street light
It must be my mind playing tricks on me tonight
Please rate=0)
Copyright © Kristina Reid-Hansen | Year Posted 2011
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Kristina Reid-Hansen Poem
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town
Not a creature was breathing, not one to be found.
Bloody hand prints swept the walls which once were white
Darkness overshadowed anything that had light
Little boys were decapitated and sprawled across the floor,
While little girls were skinned alive; hung as décor for every door.
Mothers had their jaws ripped straight from their heads
As their children screamed for mercy from their very own beds.
Panic and pain ricocheted off the walls
Pets were brutally butchered then stretched out in the halls
And Fathers were kept alive long enough to observe
Then their eyes were gouged only to dangle by an optic nerve
Fifty-six minutes is all the creature takes
To slay the whole town with its massacre earthquake
Agony rained something fierce this night
For this town was caught in the worst of plights
And the echo of dripping blood is now all you can hear
The stench swimming through the air is encapsulated fear.
To have dodged this slaughter would have been transmundane
For this monster, this beast was most definitely inhumane
It came through the windows and tore through the blinds
Grabbing any human or beast it could find
Then Slash the body! Gnash at the body! Bash them in the crown!
And Thrash the body! Lash at the body! Mash the body down!
Then it rips out your tongue and swallows it whole
This fiendish freak has a heart made of coal
When wondering eyes caught a glimpse of what did appear
They knew it wasn’t Santa and his flying reindeers
Copyright © Kristina Reid-Hansen | Year Posted 2011
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Kristina Reid-Hansen Poem
PLEASE READ PART 1 BEFORE READING BELOW
It was covered in black fur from its head to its toes
Its small eyes glimmered white like the sight of fresh snow
Razor, jagged teeth a quarter meter long
Its bite was considered to be bear trap strong
No lips, no ears, no nose on its face
Instead there were just holes, just a bunch of empty space.
The fingers and nails grew together as one
Sharper than blades which were forged by the sun
And it carried a sack, but in it were trolls
That would jump out to grab the tormented souls
The drawing of the souls was the vilest thing to see
They shrieked and moaned, then begged for mercy
But before this act the hearts were ripped out
And the trolls gobbled them up without a shadow of a doubt
But then a glare of its eye and a twitch of its head
The trolls jump back in the sack or they knew they’d be dead
And it shrieked the same five words as it left like when it came
A bellow from hell, you could say sounded the same
If you were to hear these words, you could put its reign to an end
So with its saw-like teeth, your tongue it rends.
And when it’s complete, with no time to stall
The demons dash away, Dash away, Dash away all!
It is said to come back every fifty-sixth year
On the night before Christmas like this time here
To repeat the bloodbath on a town such as this
Leaving them no time for one final wish
So sleep light on a night which is said to be merry
For you might receive a visit from the Massacre Fairy.
Please rate after reading both parts =0)
Copyright © Kristina Reid-Hansen | Year Posted 2011
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