Losing Autumn
The colourful leaves lay crisp on the ground
The trees stand bare at salute, never sure when the end will come
The sun peeks through puffs of clouds
Sending solar waves through as if signalling for help
A slight warmth still lingers in the air
Yet the odd breeze picks it up and takes it away
As if bearing a message of what's to come
It may still be autumn but everyone knows what happens next
The cries of Demeter will chill the air
Removing any sign of warmth at the loss of her daughter
Her attention will shift
No longer caring for the earth
The flames of rage will kindle within her
Tears will escape her weeping soul
Falling to the ground like frozen hellfire
Relentlessly terrorizing the earth with spells of ice and snow
Hardening it with layers of frost to resemble the stone heart she bears
Covering it, sheet by sheet, so no man can claim it's lands
Or manipulate it's soils like they did to her
She will haunt the earth
Bearing resemblance to death himself
With every gust of wind her cries will ring out
With every creak of a branch her hollow footsteps will whisper nearby
With every hail storm her tears will flow steadily down her face, freezing as they fall
With every sheet of ice her reflection will appear
Never allowing you to forget her presence
Yet she will notice not the cold for her body will burn with revenge
Winter is coming, for Demeter wishes it to be
To be a reminder of what she has lost
And what she will take from you in exchange
run away
.
Walks slowly, step by step, without rush but with plenty of fear, tears drop down her face, she touches every tree that she passes on her way, it’s a sunny day, just a few clouds in the sky, she takes off her jewelry, heavy rings, and chunky bracelets, one by one, they fall on the dirt, on the grass, unnecessary things, without meaning. She takes off her sunglasses, the sun blinds her, or maybe it’s the tears, her mascara runs down with her pain, she walks, she stumbles, she can smell the water now, she slips out of her shirt, she walks, step by step, foot by foot, she falls. The ground is hard, sharp edges scrape her knees. She gets up, slowly first shoe drops and then the other. Her mind made up, bare feet against the narrow path, light filtering through the leaves. Merciful day on a lost soul. She moves quicker now, she stumbles again, yet she keeps on moving, step by step, foot by foot... she stops. Before her, the water, that lake. Slow steps. Decisions. Make your decisions, girl. Make them now. Sharp rocks scrape her skin, and the water’s deep. She walks in, she sinks in it. Slowly. She floats. She cries. Looks before her and then back. Turns inch by inch and remembers the shore. How it looks and what it brings. Too cold are her bones, too shallow the pulse. Blood does not run, it drags against her dark veins. It’s not right. This is not the way that it should be. She lets the water wash over her body and her sins. She steps out... step by step, foot by foot. Not, yet. Not today. Make your decisions, girl. Make them now.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=goWa6EzkCh4
A Spider
I sit alone and watch a small spider
spin webs of security without thought,
without any malice or bad intention it waits
until a fly gets inevitably caught.
Then, it eats the fly slowly, mindfully
until the small piece of protein is gone,
it then returns to fixing its web again
without any intruding thought of right or wrong.
It appears through cracks and openings
without meaning to cause a fright,
to the pale white person seeing eight spread legs
reflecting in beautiful light,
it has no concept of love or hate
a bit like me, it just wanders aimlessly, unaware, innocent
hoping its web will catch its bait.
I do not have eight legs, but my mind is like a spider
wandering from corner to corner, every dusty place,
now inhabited by cobwebs and dead flies
like my own abandoned living space.
I am not a bad person, honest, please hear
please don’t cast me aside with derision,
or squash me with your size
I’m just a small, small spider,
through my small, small eyes.
This poem is from the collection 'Broken Doll' - bit.ly/brokendollmt
#poem #mentalhealth #metaphor #dark
Ceremonial Sarcophagus
Ceremonial sarcophagus,
Where they'd laid
The young lass down,
Was adorned with
Flowers of the earth
In hopes the
Crops would
Come around...
...She was spoken of
Quite highly!...
Her courage
Was a thing
Worth praise...
...And as the
Night Man
Drew his dagger,
The spirit vanished
From her face...
When the flashing
Tip of death
Plunged down
Into her chest
She screamed!...
...She died slim
Seconds later
As they
Made good
On their dream.
Ceremonial sarcophagus,
Where they'd laid
The young lass down,
Was adorned with
Flowers of the earth
In hopes the
Crops would
Come around.
©
2018
Bunny Villaire
HARD work
I mean c’mon! Really?
There has got to be more to “it”.
Strike a pose now let’s just do “it”
Dont just lay there
like a stump
Give your man some
excitement to hump!
Get him with that
Bump and grind
Twist ’em all up
Then make him
Unwind!
Suck it, slurp it,
Sip it, work it!
Just be careful
Not to jerk it! (Too hard)
He got that look
Gonna make him cum
Ohhhhhh yeah baby
My job is DONE!
Ensuing Terror of a Competitive Eternity
While your drying,
And swinging from
The most highest tier
I'm hence being
Mothballed
By what yours holds
Dear...
...There's a current of
Mishap
As the tall seasons shift...
...Perhaps you will
Witness
On your nearest
Deathtrip?...
Like leaves we keep
Falling!...
...We're dying to
Strive...
I hear voices calling...
...There are few that
Survive...
...And how long
Does one linger
After a whale
Of a game,
When we've come out
The victor...
...Our opponent
Defamed...
...Crimson red
At the mouth
After we've
Called their bluff?...
...When do we
Hari-kari?...
...And all feathers
Get plucked...
©
2018
Bunny Villaire