She’s foreboding in an awesome

death titillating kind of way

like, as in, if i am to die perhaps

this would be the place

for her to take my life as i find myself

scrambling skittering with jagged bits of

particles’ ejections into prickly rarefied air

i’m high literally and figuratively, charged with an

adrenaline angst up the sharp spine of this killer ridge

sawtooth is seductive,

she is has an alluring ominous slate grey side,

ripped, crevasse ’d, and cracked

her beautiful northeast granite face

albeit malevolent wears a

perennially white snowy napkin in glacier’s cold

her chin is sloped sharply, wildly

straight skewed, dizzyingly far below me

her sensual sides are left of me - northeast;

her right side is southwest

both i have fondled with my eyes

both precipitous,

both candy i greedily engorge with hungry vision

she’s surreptitiously slight slipped and straight

on both her sides, she’s gorgeous

she’s sexually appealing,

she’s danger’s mystique

the girl next door in my fresno backyard

she calls me in wilderness intrigue,

“c’mon over here, just a little closer”

with a sinister pull of sensuality, arousing,

she stands high towered, naked and raw

her designated secluded space in time

she lies, a scaled version of Mount Everest’s

halfway across the world for you and me

if you dare the risk for a crazy careless plunge,

an instant acceleration’s drop

to sudden euphoric death

in nature’s den, fully lit and witnessed by

a glaring sun of high altitude ecstasy

“get yourself together, she’s a maneater”

an inner voice cautions me

“beauty beguiles, a slight slip of enraptured mind’s flight

and you will fall into her arms”

a trance like euphoria descends and prevails

i vaguely recall

the mountain peak killer’s kinetic energy’s draws

me nonetheless to this highest top

of this part of the world’s spring loaded

potential plummet

a personal carnal wreckage prospect

a bursting, cracking, spurting

blood pumping, vein tearing

ripping flesh and fracturing bones . . .

“be care . . . fu . . . ll!”

A Scream, . . .

Not mine

through clenched teeth . . . “noooooo!”

i know such a one, her victim

my friend

he who broke every rib except one

he broke a clavicle, and one side of his pelvis

a crushing fall, his descent

she foiled his return from her 14,000 foot crown

her saw’s tooth summit,

her jagged rocks did their harm

then feigned a phony benevolence,

her futile stab of covert mercy stinted

ruggedly stopped my friend’s unconscious flesh

from further fall by yet another brutal hindrance -

she abruptly stopped his careening fall

and cradled him close to brink of death,

his would be corpse

kept alive for her pleasure,

like cat and mouse

on her hard mineral skin, so cold

sawtooth lapped thirstily

my fallen friend’s bright red splotches

she proudly sported, wore his speckles

his precious living human blood

she savored the sprayed foam of his punctured lungs

those gurgled bubbles, white, wet shiny

on her mineral tongues

in the glaring sun

my moans of agony muffled

which she sawtooth sent

via her cruel condescending condolences

i still hear echoing

her reverberations of a rock’s heartless mockery

amidst frantic satellite phone’s pleas’

calls of distress, mercy calls for human’s aide

deliverance from sawtooth’s harm

until helicopter help arrived

sawtooth sierra nevada peak

she’s appropriately named

her teeth are sharp;

she’s widow maker’s peak

of the sierra nevada’s spine

a razor’s edge climb

her prize is in reaching the top;

her summit point

the rub is a friend’s descent fall

shattered bones and a 3 month coma

If you're going to point the finger

Covered with the black tar hate

At countries far beyond our third world...

Our disassembled fifty states...

Just remember we eat poison,

And our water reeks of sludge...

We're reflected in our mirror maze

Forty times but still don't budge

'less we're talking in a windstorm

Is the only time we'll hear...

Wear another person's shoes...

Try them out and feel the sole

As it scrapes against the concrete...

There are blessings we won't know...

Stop and stare into reflections

Of that immigrant you fear...

Be him Mexican, Brazilian, or of

Palestinian ilk...

These are people who can only

Save us from our own demise...

If we show them all our asses

We are aping a disguise

Of a species that cannot progress...

Canker sores denying salve...

Better wall your eyes and mouth off...

Better fence off your sweet grave...

Jump inside a cement mixer

'til there's nothing left to save...

Wear another person's shoes...

Try them out and feel the sole

As it scrapes against the concrete...

There are blessings we don't know...

Tumorous heads grow on your shoulder...

Is that just another shade

Of some self that slipped your field count?...

When you look down at your plate

Do you see meat and

Potatoes?...

Is there something else you crave?...

Maybe news from something different?...

Could their

Feelings be betrayed?...

You could pop fresh heads like bubbles,

Or big bulbous welts on skin,

Homosexual accusations

That your Psyche aims to win...

Flip the apple cart and blame the ones

That open wide their veins...

...You'll be living in some corner

With the remnants of lost claims...

11/10/24

Bunny Villaire

Edit #4

Come pull me out of the sun...

Come put me under your employ...

You can play fast with the gun...

I'll clean the marks off of every glass...

If you need a place at the time of death

I will be your alibi...

Idle hands of clay can relieve what ails...

I'm the devil weed...growing on the rail...

If you go too far, I won't bat a lash...

...I'm the subterfuge that is made to last...

Come paint my Achilles' heel...

Come put me under your employ...

Take first dibs on the steering wheel...

I'd never spill when we're up flying...

If you need a place at the time of death

I will be your alibi...

Idle hands of clay can relieve what ails...

I'm your devil weed...growing on the rail...

If you go too far, I won't bat a lash...

...I'm the subterfuge that is made to last...

Flying high as a sky blue kite...

Come put me under your employ...

You can spike a vein...I would never bite...

Silent as the San Andreas fault line...

If you need a place at the time of death

I will be your alibi...

Idle hands of clay can relieve what ails...

I'm the devil weed...growing on the rail...

If you go too far, I won't bat a lash...

...I'm the subterfuge that is made to last...

10/18/24

Bunny Villaire

Edit #3

I. Today I Learned

I bury all I am in my sins,

Faith in liquored-love.

Fairy bottles replay static memories.

Plenty of bruises, red rift scars,

Blood spurts

And limbs locked;

Punch drunk tempting her fate

Corroding cherry wraith

Goblet crush

Top her off!

Sure today I tell you how I feel.

Daisy fangs swirl a trillion;

At midnight we sat in the back seat of the

Silver mustang

Butterflies fluttering in circadian allure

Fresh foaming crystal brew wrestling my mangled tongue.

With You playing, windows open,

Honeycomb night air veiling

Tingling liquored-liver,

I stare at your phone

and

silver skylines end.

II. No names left to trust

So I develop my alter ego,

gold chain hanging

To my mosaic heart,

I stumble among extinct stars,

Trap cold character:

Ice Age.

Soon the round world fades,

Faces blur, gold lenses curve all

l o v e.

Jump my h o p e.

Tan cap like Yin

and

Yang.

Polo emblem my ensemble;

Her tan skin like drops of honey

Sky resembles my F e a r.

III. Sin Miedo Me Voy….

Heaven only knows what awaits

Sore shoulders and unfurling gates

Trade stress for two thousand hops

Crack calve muscles:

Tectonic shift.

Cortisol huffs cool in serotonin rush

Far off I see liquified azul twilight

Orange creamsicle dreams,

Splashes of tangerine

flutters.

Infectious spirals smile before

collapsing.

I felt nothing but

Crushing breathes,

Heart echoing in my cavernous chest

droplets forming

Calcified

d

e

p

t

h

s.

IV. It Began With the Sun

Laser rays and isolation

Just how I would spend

the end of

My sunflower youth

Before I set off to my adventure,

A life that could not be claimed by

My mother’s past

Only my feet marching to newfound

Fear.

I wore a silky white T-Shirt,

Daisy wore overalls and a gray long sleeve

Late summer sun blazed black leather seats,

Metal belt stung with magma jaws;

A day at the mall with friends,

That's all It was.

I was just coming back from Houston

Something about the city ate away at me,

My family felt like a parasitic reflection:

A dystopian image I could not rattle- so I

Marched off.

Nothing but plains blessed my surroundings,

Farmland said to be gold

Dead grass like evergreen forests

Orchards sprayed with white paint

Tar roads with chalk drawings leading

Up to

Twists and turns

Here I faded away from

The front seat conversations

Let my shy tendencies take hold

Gold lenses flaring with curiosity,

H o p e.

V. Tonight You Belong To Me

I saw a maniac on the car roof in

The mall garage parking lot slowly slipping,

Screaming, not afraid but excited,

Clenching stupidity and death with flailing arms.

I awoke from my silent stupor, shot

Joy from my anchored mind

Strolled shop after shop realizing what this could all be,

Freedom from laser rays and isolation:

A new happiness.

Creativity, loved

bled, and bloody

left me,

autumnal winds

stretching out

my draft deafening door,

swinging low

with lament:

...you used us

like a drug,

and now

we're fully wasted...

useless body! and breath what

could have been made, cohesive

for consumptive ritual,

you slaughtered

and butchered--!

with Life seeping out

its shell casing, housing

this bullet, aimed falsely

in vigilance, of a second helping

...eating is nonsensical

...and sleep is a wake

for grieving demons,

their gnashing of teeth

foretold

in Revelations!

for those who long buried

with primitive spade and hatchet

the half-spent core, reactive

that which sprouted fevered

exponential saplings, of temptation

blotched green and gold and red...

fading to russet,

brittle and deadening...

an ache I'd hope to feel again

shedding this blanket of snow

was big as a house

with a head of State

and church to boot

with popular caboose

there was something

in the tresses louselike

plaid a dress kept up

in kerchief and bow

the union of the mess

with apron tongue tied in

matron might spanning

east and western blocks

of hood and suburb too

ah the stale breath of

cake crust and wedlock

in the nuts and bolts

of Frankenstein and

his whole world, fear

that beautiful bride,

till death do them part

instilling terror in the

the heart of mankind

09.22.2024

Frankenstein's Spouse challenge @AJAY9979

with faith

we believe we are making

"something"

call it what you like

of the void

that

(always)

was

waiting

as if

--just for us--

but truly now we are making

[nothing]

the space

that is

our absence of

I am a writer bereft of words

a barren mother, empty womb -

no eggs'

i am the dormant disease

a festering wound that itches

eaten alive by past experiences

coursing through my veins

devouring to day's presence with tomorrows angst

i feel the puss stealthily moving

like the clock of the womb i carry

that consumed my children

so that they were never born

i am... the grieving lioness

who pounces with vigor at the prey

not so much from hunger or anger

but to fend away all archaic slights

i am the villain of my own story

the one who stumps at the root of joy

so that i can feel the rush

as the baby dies inside, i am a killer of dreams

the one who turns off the light

just as the godly idea sprouts

and often wonder, "who will even care?"

I am wanderer with out a compass

i see the canvas, yet fail to paint in bright colors

i am the problem that compromises the solution

so that the world today

looks exactly like it did yesterday

i am an enemy of progress

an overzealous aggrandizer of the past,

i am the history, and the heritage

through words i am passed on

from generation to the next without question

i am without morals, the morass that keeps you here

i am you...

they too were reborn

the blood lust of my ancestors

the pulse in my veins

they were reborn

when the sun set on that October evening

and the octopus's limb grew from that sinister white stump

the puss from the wound watered the bloodline

and daughters gave birth to sons

and sons grew to men

to replenish depleting bloodline

a word from the moon is that the stars are ready

they were reborn too by they radiance of the galaxies.