Hekate Looses And Finds Her Woodland Heart~A Cautionary Tongue Twister With Flexy ConscienceThings

They shamble

on an amble

dropping pain toppings

in the leaves

the eaves tremble

dripping gumdrop tears

sugarcoating

fear

blood and rubies in my ears

I tear

I rend

my swan neck

for the undead

in their North Face shine

come out of the neon

brights

for woodland nips

a bottle

laughter

sips

the girl skips a puff

boy flicks

he passes

to the unboy in his Dolce glasses

pupils dancing

death prancing

leaves fall

a hunter calls

deer have learned to fly

here

bullets

in the sky, hear?!

me

dear me

when did my compassion

for the human fashion

drop

with glitter

maybe when he thought

it was okay to hit her

like that

bat that rat

in his Sunday hat

tip the hypocrisy

of this denominational

nondemocracy

but I hush

blush

watching boys and girls

drown their rush

to be an awkward crush

in a crushing world

that eaty ups the innocence

the need for play

unlearned

unheard of now you see

flick that Wii

wand

wheeee!

while I, in my perfect skin

sew a thousand and one dreams

wherein

there be monsters

sirs

candy houses

brew of verbs

and there be magik

though there still be humans here

my woodland heart

from end to start

and start to end

feeds the bees

the honey blends

of blood

and faith

and books

and music

bruise me

on the F

minor in my senescence

major I

in arts of soul

who will parole

the chain of coal

and sooty men

the women’s crucifixion

oh!, you comedienne!

they applaud

how witty

on Broadway

in hell’s favorite city

so shall  I bow?

for I can not bend

I was built onto the bitter ends

to turn the iris right side in

much to the butterfly’s chagrin

who, now you know

thinks well below

of humankind

while I row row row

this evanescent boat ashore

and step my footsy on the dock

take a bow

tic

tic

shock

my building blocks

to my knee

humble me

in the woods

or by the sea

rock a bye

my lullaby

in a glade

in her side

of mountain time

curl I

a shell girl in a fist

a genie in a bottle

mist

for I do not like these  old poached souls

I, being made for dead sea scrolls

I do not like them high or shallow

I will not kiss them dark or hallow

I do not want your world

you see

but unlike you

I’ll let you be

carpenter bee

and turn into my chrysalis

my surreality

my bliss

lucky for you

I get distracted

extracted

decanted before wolves

to rain

wild

child

so drained of grace

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

from Unfairy Tales From Underland

in stores and online Fb.2012

Author's Note

HEKATE was the greek goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, moon, ghosts and necromancy~she was rather overwhelmed while the male gods went about their fornicating and mortal seducing tralalala! =/

Reviews

[RainQueen]

I wake and see a jewel gleaming up at me - It teases and draws, beckons me to read again, to peel back a layer, then another...Finding hurt beneath the dancing words...

Hekate watches in frustration, exhaustion, maybe/sometimes/amusement as the male gods prance proudly, scattering their droppings as they go. But never, ever, ever, is Hekate drained of grace.

Yet again, you leave us mortals breathless and in awe.

[SkinlessFrank]

you guide us through a broken wilderness-junkyard, the discarded scrap of a century, back to pool where there still remain wonders that were always here but now are fading

[Art]

your creativity is never ending...we are but the audience when it comes to poetry, while you dance with the skies and make us realize these far reaching expressions ... leaving us awed...nice work Selene...

[Ed Hart]

i do not like green eggs and ham
nor spam, nor being on the lam
but when she raps my chamber door
we sit and sip forevermore
Hekate is my favorite shore

[EMF]

What a wonderful Fairy Tale. I can't wait to read it to my Grandaughter. She's been brought up on a diet of Princess crap. She could use somethig real, well written and with a big set of nadgers. Wonderful bounce and bang to it, sparking of images that tear their way into the psychie. Me I always rooted for the witch in the cottage.

[Aidz]

I made it to the end of this dance, I ate the red pill and I saw dust, the blue left my heart a crush...... excellence in ink :)