in the window
i thought i saw
in the window
my lost love.
my doctor told me
it was grief.
i thought i saw
in the window
my old enemy.
my doctor told me
it was bitterness.
i thought i saw
in the window
a glimpse of the Grim.
my doctor told me
it was fear.
yet the last thing i saw
was the worst thing of all:
i thought i saw
in the window
myself.
my love, gone.
my enemy, gone.
even death,
the uncomfortable comfort,
gone.
i was alone.
and as i watched myself i saw
my skin begin to ripple,
my eyes began to bulge
my hair began to fall.
i was aging before my eyes
each second a decade of time.
with the last of my strength
i clawed for the door
took the bus into town
and knocked on death's door.
and my doctor told me
with a youthful smile,
that he appreciated
my donation.
Hey
Look at me.
I’m talking
to you…
may I ask
a question?
When you read a poem,
when you look at me,
have you ever
considered
what you are doing?
You are eating.
Each word you
look at
enters your mind.
And each word
has a life of its own
but like
a raw piece of
fish
a bad piece of
meat
there is a chance of a
parasite
wriggling inside
a word
hooks in your mind
now
consuming you…
A Poet’s Trojan Horse.
And look how much
you have eaten
already~
I hope you
continue to read
poems
I would love
the company~
ALPES
With a thousand eyes…
It watches the child…while
The babe tries to fall into a
Deep slumber…
Then it glides into the room…
Through the window…ready to
Sink it’s razor-sharp teeth into the
Scrumptious looking flesh…
With it’s long snake-like
Tongue…it begins to take a
Lick of the newborn’s face…
& begins to slowly open its jaws!
O, beware the Alpes!
For it lies in wait…
Ready to snatch young ones…
Away from their families.
’Tis best to place salt
Near the baby’s room…
Cover the key opening hole…
Remember to also place a broom
Right underneath the pillow.
Grab a mirror…
As well as a cross…,
Hang each close to the door.
You better hope
These steps/tips work
Otherwise….
When the Alpes arrive, Run…
…Run…as fast you can…
and make sure to~
Take your baby with you
Find another place to call home!
Please check…& see.
You better make sure
The little one
You’re carrying…is yours.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=VAN2_S0Y5l0
#ALPES (c)
03.23.2023 Fridey jnr.
Found
* not sure if this exactly counts as a poem or not. But I gave it a shot. :) *
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sweaty palms,
racing heart.
Silence.
Rapid breaths,
terrified eyes.
Pause.
Thunking footsteps,
getting closer.
Stop.
Shadows tower,
covering light.
Creaking.
Glowering eyes,
searching the dark.
Heavy breathing.
Masked face,
looking down.
Locked eyes.
Huddled tightly,
thumping heart.
Soft cry.
Dark hands
reach and reveal.
Scream.
Homecoming
The heavy rain pounds the earth,
The ground has taken it's fill.
The excess flows in small streams
That go blindly down the hill.
A newcomer to the town
Has become lost on his way.
Came to be a visitor,
Only now is forced to stay.
"How did I get here," he thinks.
Doesn't know where he has been,
and where to find some shelter
is too far beyond his ken.
Lightning blazes in the sky;
Its daylight, so bright and full.
He sees it in the distance
a cross upon a steeple.
Before long he has made it,
to a small church right beside,
a small and tidy graveyard
where are buried those who died.
It looks familiar to him,
but this surely cannot be.
He's never been here before
At least not that he can see.
He shakes the thought from his mind
He knows now that he must try
to get inside the building,
where surely it must be dry.
He finds the front door is locked,
the side and back are as well.
He opens a storm cellar,
and sees a vision of hell.
The place is filled with the dead
all are standing on their own.
They all turn their heads tow'rd him
The warm smiles welcome him home.
Everything comes flooding back,
a shock to his flailing mind.
He did not survive his trip
He'll be here for quite some time.
Keepsake For The Wicked
Smoke traces the curves of my steering wheel.
I watch her undress through the sheer, curtains flowing.
Engine hushed; Every whisper becomes profound.
Waiting for the cover of darkness, and for her to drift asleep.
Then she sleeps.
Door latch opens, Security breached.
Stairwell.
Hallway.
Bedroom.
I inhale her hair while she dreams, don’t mind me.
The crisp fragrance of a clipped keepsake,
fills my pocket for another day.
Back to business I must go.
A cocktail on a rag leads to a drowsy drag.
Car ride out of town, tied and bound.
A shovel
A pit.
Wiping the sweat as I spit.
I break for a swig, then draw a puff from my cig.
A key turned; my trunk exposed.
Hello Gorgeous—She squirms as she wakes.
She wiggles and shakes; Biting at her tape.
A shoulder ride, then she’s tossed inside.
Dirt piled on, six feet under.
“I lay you to rest my love.”
Minutes of air.
How will she use it,
to breath, to cry, or yell for help?
But they won’t hear her scream.
Not in these woods.
Not as I drive away.
They won’t hear her muffled shrieks.
Maybe now, she’ll remember me.
One at a Time
Those eyes, following me,
So red, piercing
The air, focused on me alone.
Don't you see them?
They never blink.
They burn my skin!
You can see them.
Why won't you admit it?
They don't like company.
Acknowledge them.
They're closer and closer and closer
My God! They're here. Right here.
They stare at me, just waiting.
I can hardly tell they're getting closer.
But they are, nearly within ruinous grasp.
They gaze hard, over your head at me.
Just look, please look, just look!
They don't like company.
Who will they look at next? After me?
Remember me, when you see them in the rearview mirror.
Pity me, when you see them in the bushes.
They're closing, those crimson eyes.
I'm getting colder and weaker. It hurts.
You should have just admitted you saw them, too.
I’m Coming For You
No place to run,
no place to hide.
I see everything.
You want to know fear?
You want to suffer untold agony?
You will get your wish one day.
When blood seeps from your eyes,
mouth wide open but screams never heard.
... and I roar with insane laughter.
When you feel your flesh stripped away,
and the perversity of heat burns at your soul.
Understanding fear will never be your white light.
Know that your time is at hand
and you won't see it coming.
Until it is too late.
p - lay in- ain
The thing in the mirror clawed at the edges. Its black fingers scraping and cutting along the sides. But the mirror didn't crack. She stood, with bare skin exposed, head tilted to the side
staring
at the mirror like it would shatter at her command.
Its hollow eyes crawled with centipedes, each leg reminding her of her own fears, scuttling down her spine.
Skin dragging along a freshly washed glass.
Grit between your teeth.
A single invisible stone in your shoe.
A price tag that scissors refuses to cut.
The only pen in the house, vacant of ink.
A single drop of black falls to the floor
Muttered words that hung on see-through threads
Who is in control
No hate, no anger, no sadness,
This feeling transcends words
You ask for an embrace but disappear as I turn the corner
I wonder if you know how I feel
A rose that has been diminished by a blade hacking at its hard-earned roots
How can you do that
Let me lay in pain