Big paws little paws. Talons galore. Webbed feet no feet. On their belly goes. Some have toes others hooves. Every version unique as can be. Allows the creature to move freely. So cherish each.
Heather dappled hills of yore Tell me again, what it is you swore I fear I have forgot A love that came to naught Differences, they say True love must pay For where thou goest I shall relish most The gayest spark in thine eye Cannot be denied Pluck it not, leave it be For that shine is the heart of me
There were no more miracles that year -
no child snatched back
at the edge of the cold lake
in January
or the deep sickness
of winter
sent fleeing from the bones
of old ladies.
Roots in the spring
did not untangle
and bring warmth to the orchards,
turning stones to apples
and the soft air of April
did not quicken in the sun
and grow into a forest.
Summer did not bring
back the birds.
The swallows had left
their nests all burning,
And the August nights
did not pull the stars
one by one out of orbit
and set them
on a new course.
No, the year had only grown
old and careless
and left the young men
to once again
walk out on wings.
They Came, They Saw, We Conquered by PrecariouslyPeculiar, literature
Literature
They Came, They Saw, We Conquered
The day the aliens arrived, My band, The Elysian Stimulus, Was performing live, Promoting our second album, The Prophecy of Alpha Centauri. A vast UFO appeared During Uniting Twin Flames, Just like that. It seemed to stretch the night sky, Then snap backwards, like a band, Before it sparkled all to life In silver pinpricks. It became clear, then, who it was That stimulated true visions Of divinity. The UFO appeared, as With my fist high in the air, I belted, "Within the dusky view Of velvet cosmos, Conjuring cursed wanderlust, I Build my ship. Out by a crimson river, Such isles of exotic love, Radiating ivory ashes— Our inked destiny. It's the prophecy of. . . Alpha Centauri!" There was to be a breakdown, But There was no breakdown. The aliens came. The monitors and video screens exploded. I guess that sort of was the breakdown. Everything worked out In the end, however, for the aliens Apparently Just desired to rock. They fixed our equipment, With an apology, And made of their
A panic attack a day Keeps the sanity away, As in the liminal space Between well and not, I feel my slow descent Like knots, Which numb every part of me, Constricting me until I Am reduced Before what is now a world Of despair. Of anguish. I languish in the mocking Of the sun I thought kind; And although the dark is kinder, Even it has words for me. Please, I try to be a good person. But I'm afraid that I'm not. Would a good person be So easily shattered by life? I should be wiser by now. Humans do age like wine. But some age like milk. Most likely age somewhere In the middle. (Albeit closer To wine.) Let me speak plainly, Because though playing With the English language Is fun And distracts From my torment, I Am still Tormented. This past week Has killed me seven times, And in spite of all my hopes And all my efforts, It's trying for a second. I wish I could explain What is wrong with me, But I'm afraid And wouldn't know Where to begin. A poetess I may be, But in the irony