Tag Archives: Death

GUEST POST // Long Bones & Lace by Field of Thorns

I wait here alone
Cursed without sleep
In my fragile vanilla tower —
Off-white, yellowed with age
Made up of cross sections
Of mainly manly long bones
Thin little discs
My palace, my keeps
My Honeycomb Catacombs
Wafers, not for consumption
Articulated — in kind
With precious cabochon gemstones
Emeralds and Peridots of Olivine Greens
Queens envying
The nine lives of Tiger’s Eyes.

I wait here lonesome
Accursed with sleeplessness
But for the birds —
Crimson canaries
Made red by a parting sea
Fly in skein and swain
Speed, the likes I’ve never seen
The blur of Autumn Reds leave a trail
Vermillion swish with a tail
Scarlet whoosh of wind
Ruffling the chimes of ivory
Humanity’s wind chimes of teeth
Gentle ivory chatter floats on the breeze
Behind by the flight, of crimson canaries.

I wait here alone
Cursed without sleep
All that is heard
In my silent world
Teeth softly speaking
Agile words once left unspoken
Grace the halls, grace the walls
Secrets to my keeps
Released, by the whispering ivory
To a privileged ear
Untold confessions unfold
Not so far, but near
A lovely chimed chant to hear.

I wait here lonesome
Accursed with sleeplessness
As Day retreats
Dusk turns to Dark
In my world of Threes
An unholy trinity — a trilogy
Amber to lavender
Lavender to a violet gray night
Candles of fat and marrow
Burn throughout the night
While Morpheus greets
My little quilled crimson canaries
Jealous, suffering from a constant wake
All is quiet, all is in a hushed state.

I wait here alone
Cursed without sleep
Silence is fleeting —
Lit wicks shadow-cast
Prance the dance of Seven Veils
Flames shimmer and flicker
To a snake charming flute
Hypnotize and mesmerize
These watchful eyes
Until the dawn arrives with Eos
Waking my crimson canaries
She swings open Heaven’s Gates
Releasing a golden amber sunrise
A Passing Passion bright
Silhouettes of lace
Rays of light fill my keeps
Beautiful champagne streamers
Crawl through holes in honeycomb
Where catacombs sleep and weep.

I wait here lonesome
Accursed with sleeplessness
To repeat, to repeat —
Full circle, no prey, no pray
No need for it’s perfectly clear
As I’m cursed to wait here
In my vanilla tower
Wafers of honeycomb
Crimson canaries
Softly speaking teeth
Amber sunrises
Lavender afternoons
Dancing flames of the violet gray nights
Waiting behind the Seven Gates
What more could I want —
While waiting alone and awake?

by FIELD OF THORNS
© All rights reserved 2014

GUEST POST // Path by Field of thorns

On the crooked path of life
Turning left or turning right
No matter –
Eventually –
All roads lead back home.
~
Don’t be fooled, you walk it alone.

by FIELD OF THORNS
© All rights reserved 2014

GUEST POST // Woman In Black by Obsidian Visionary

I feel the pain in my head,
As rage grips my mind like a claw.
I now see with clarity the Woman in Black,
Radiant as the sun and without flaw.

Her ashen face cloaked by an exquisite veil,
Like the sun eclipses the moon.
As she beckons me closer with half a smile,
A step forward and I’m ready to swoon.

Her beautiful face turns murky with every step,
As my head throbs with a need for release.
Is it folly to continue on this treacherous path,
Or is it destiny calling in all its wrath.

I choose to move onward, pain now gripping my heart,
While the epitome of beauty casts down her impenetrable veil.
To reveal not a face of serenity,
But one ravaged to all extremity.

I try to run but the agony is far too great,
Falling to the ground, flashes of white seize my mind.
Peace engulfs me in its arms as I take my final breath,
Looking at the Woman in Black who was nothing but death.

by OBSIDIAN VISIONARY
© All rights reserved 2014

a Patricide

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned! 
Forgive me, Father, for I have committed a patricide!

…It was an ordinary day. It was an ordinary day except for one fact. It was the day when I became unindentured. I became unrigged.

I started my daily morning ceremony with a special pleasure. It is just beautiful to do some boring and routine things before the most important action in your life. I put a derby on fire. I gargled my gullet. I threw out a pesky gnome from my kitchen through the door. After a minute he climbed up into the window… My perfect morning ceremony! I will miss this! But I must do this spurt. I must leave this purgatory. It was not ambivalent feelings. It was the pure and clear realization of truth. I must go.

I went down to the hall. I greeted madam Sienna, a seamstress in our parish. She is a good and very kind woman… She always presented to me broken needles and bended pins for my little hobby. I opened the door and came into the confessional room.

Forgive me, Father…

I wiped my knife on his cassock and stepped over his body. I became free.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014

the Ideal complaint

Even his corny front door, trimmed with the brown leatherette and brazen tacks, causes a vomiting reflex. The dim brazen door-plate mocks – ‘J.R. Invulnerable, Jr. Claims, appeals, statements, complaints. Fast Legal Assistance.’ Fast… Yes! I don’t demur. Today I’ll do this fast!

He is sitting at the huge oaken writing-table. The tiny man and the huge writing-table… The ugly wicked spider is waiting for his booty to ambush.

‘Do you need to compose a document or an answer to it?’ – his voice was soft like purring, and I’ve suppressed a vomiting reflex again.

‘I want to compose a complaint.’

‘Do you know my price?’

‘Yes.’

Yes, I know your price, you sick bastard… It’s tears, woe, broken dreams…

‘OK! Who is your object?’

‘You. I want to compose a complaint about you. The ideal complaint, without flaws. This complaint must be the best complaint that you can write!’

His look is turbid like moonshine. He hasn’t understood the task. Maybe my wording has been vague. I should use clearer terms.

‘Fast, scumbag! Write! You are fast, legal assistance aren’t you?’ – My S&W winks at him…

‘What should I write?’

‘Truth. Only truth. About your unscrupulousness, corruptibility… How you neglect morality for the sake of a few lousy coins every day… How you disowned yourself from our saintly oath… How your mendacious documents are destroying the basic principles of our fraternal society…’

He is writing… writing… writing. I wait.

‘What now?’

‘Gobble this!’ My S&W wishes him a good appetite.

He puts white sheets of paper into his mouth and starts to masticate. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand still…

I’m leaving this room with that tiny breathless body at that huge table. I didn’t touch him – not even a finger. The poison of his libels was enough.

The dribble of toxic, ink saliva runs down from his mouth to the expensive smuggled parquet…

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014