Dark Lord

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Dark lord unsheathing sword from scabbard.

There was a lord; a man of kindness, of light
After years of service had put down his blade
Known far and wide for his fairness and insight

Though tales of his past battles are lore still oft’ spun
He now lives life with wife and sons, a man genteel
His locks are fair, nearly white though he is still young

Of course there are the ones in life who will harbor ill
The major flaw in things seemingly perfect
A hate grows unchecked for this lord’s blood to spill

Clothed in acts of friendship a darkness they bring
Vile thought became vile deeds slowly put in motion
The first step – smooth as silk, the loss of a ring

Little thought is given, such things occur in a life
Until said ring implicates him in the murders
Of his most precious, his own sons and wife

Still in control, he senses the hand of evil’s spark
As those who try to champion him fall one by one
Some say his clothing was the first to turn dark

Determined on his own, to prove his innocence
He becomes a fugitive slowly alienating all
No longer wanting others death in his defense

Though he never draws on those who doesn’t draw first
The kills mount in the search to clear his name
His quest slowly becoming a mission of blood thirst

As a crimson heat of hate spawns from rancor’s seed
They say the light in his eyes were next to grow dark
For black are his thoughts, oh black they are indeed

The path to truth has taken him past a point that can be undone
And the causes of such, now have great fear of their dark creation
As those of schadenfreude dwindle down to the first – now last one

His life, once a heaven most people only dream about,
Was one he had never given much of a second thought
But his dark soul exists in hell now, of this he has no doubt

Somewhere in the distance a church sounds a midnight chime
A hope of forgiveness flares briefly but is quickly stamped out
Former allies now foes come face to face for the last time

The reasons for the start of this are lost as final justice come due
Down to the dark strands that were once his locks so fair
The once lord of light’s heart has turned to one of the darkest hue

It’s the price for his sins, to be paid of their own accord
The final flame of pure hate, extinguishes the last light of his soul
”One way or another this ends” he snarls drawing first his sword

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dVerse Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar – Writing Characters

Still Pissed…

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Yes, this is an Akin rant, because I am still pissed….

Is there is a dearth of viable children available for adoption via the usual ways as is, that we have to use legislature to replenish the stock?

The moral majority has the right to have their opinion on who, what, when, where, why and how and for that matter how many we choose to use our vaginas. After all, it is just opinion, and like assholes, almost everyone has one and it has little bearing on how we lead our sexual lives except where we choose to let it. As the kids say “YMMV”, but I personally do not give a fuck.  Actually, that is not true, I do give and receive fucks – not as any wear near as much as I’d like, because I do have standards after all, but I digress…

The moral majority however does not have the right to legislate what we, as a legal adult females of sound minds and bodies, will allow in or out of our vaginas voluntarily (the harm to animals big and small not withstanding – because I know some idiot reading this is going to think it).  They damn sure should not get to lay down the law on all females simply because it goes against the moral/religious stance of some. Attempting to define what is considered “rape” and then what to do with any potential pregnancies that may result from it, by people –the majority of whom are male and one of whom, who apparently did not pay attention in sex-ed and does not know shit about basic reproductive biology- has galled me to no end, especially this week.

Forcible rape. Date rape. Statutory rape. Guess what they all have in common?

They are all still RAPE.

This is punishing the victim on a grand scale. We all know for all the rapes reported, there are so many more that are not. Therefore, the responsibilities any pregnancies resulting from such -for those females who do not have these mysterious magic vaginas that shuts down and blocks insemination when being raped as Akin stated- are solely on the female. I know there are states that will uphold rapists’ rights to fight for custody of their children should they be so inclined (which is whole other level of punishing the victim), but is there a law that mandates all convicted rapists who father children must take full responsibility of them whether they want to or not?-No.  However, whatever spawn is planted in our wombs we may soon be ordered to give birth to whether we want to or not.

If the woman is not crying bloody murder about the event, she asked for it? Tell that to the woman in an abusive relationship that hasn’t found the courage to leave yet.  Maybe the college girl hanging out with someone she thought was a friend and is slipped some GHB in her soda will be okay with it, but I doubt it. Does anyone remember back in the late 80’-early 90’s when women were taught to not fight, but just lay there and take it because they were more likely to live through it? Tell that to the women who heeded such advice. Perhaps the 10-year-old girl taken advantage of by a male family member who was too scared to say “no” that she (and let us be honest her mother also), must keep the lovely memento left behind as a reminder for the rest of their lives?

And really, even if the female (or mother of the female), CHOOSES to keep the child due to her own personal reasons, would she want the father to be in the life of the child?

And just for the sake of devil advocacy – let us take rape out of the picture altogether.

I am a middle-aged peri-menopausal woman who already has two adult children and damn sure does not want any more. How much do you want to wager -should I find out the condom broke- just how ecstatic I will be to learn that I just re-upped for a minimum 9 month, but potentially another 18-24 year gig due to government decree. I love my sons, but I have raised them and they are living their own lives now. Raising children to adulthood is work and my job is done. I have officially entered consulting mode for which there is no chance of being let go from my services and I like it that way. I am not starting over, nor am I putting the child up for someone else.  I am saying it right here in print – if it becomes national law and I would have to give birth to said child – there will be a “vacation” to another country in my immediate future and I guaran-fucking-tee you I will not be the only one.

As I will be out of the childbearing game soon enough, this really isn’t about me any more.  It is for all the other females of this age on whom such legislature will affect.

Most of the ones attempting to control our wombs and lives through such laws were not around, or old enough to really remember life before Roe v. Wade.  To them and to the ones who think I’m blowing it out of proportion and need to let it go, I’m telling you, if we don’t wake up and continue to fight to keep these from becoming laws, we’re all going to be pretending we do not know about the many uses of wire hangers again within a few short years.

This was my Facebook status Monday morning:

Verbal Diarrhea Diaries (regarding the ongoing trend to legislate the female body below the belt): I am a grown ass woman, the only persons who have any “legitimate” say about what is allowed to come out of my vagina are my gynecologist whose job is to check it out and the lucky ones I voluntarily allow in.  All else need to Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

I feel as though I have spent the past few years explaining/defending/exercising my right to control my own vagina so many fucking times, I’ve had it up to here *levels palm just above pubic area*

Or as my girl ‘Monds likes to say ‘Iz ded”.

It’s Thursday and I am still pissed…

Remember Prayer

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13

So just, come to me, for anything at all,
Call my name, it is yours to call.
Feel my faith in you, when you can’t find your own,
And always remember, you’re never alone
Freddy Jackson featuring Najee / All I’ll Ever Ask

Yes, sing My praises in hymns when times are good
But it’s the hard times where faith is truly understood
When you’ve had a brush with life’s shortfalls
Some offer prayer, every chance they could
Others are too afraid when they know they should
For all succumb to the curve of life’s pitfalls
So, whether you scream for My name out loud
Or kneel to Me in the quiet, anything but proud
It’s never too late to rise from a downfall
So just, come to Me, for anything at all

Reach out for Me, just reach out with upturned hands
I know the forces don’t always let things go as planned
And be not ashamed if you’ve never before prayed at all
Come to Me now, come to Me, I will understand
Remember it is My footprints that are seen in the sand
When the die lie still and you’re pressed against the wall
When you fear you have finally lost it all indeed
A simple prayer is the liaise to all you need
And never feel any request is too great or too small
Just call My name, it is yours to call

When your skies shift from watchet to gray
And a torrent of troubles come your way
For you’re worn, you’re tired – weary to the bone
When you feel you’ll never, have a say
In all the cruel games that life can play
When the darkness invokes your heart to moan
When you’re convinced without a doubt
That your end seems like the only way out
In the times when it feels your faith has flown
Feel My faith in you, when you can’t find your own

“In the beginning…” starts The Word’s first page
“…Christ be with you all. Amen” marks the final stage
From the first fillip of light I’ve ever shone
That setup the first of a Seven-Day age
Words that still have the power to assuage
Words that can inspire, words that help to atone
On those days, when you’re lost as what to do
Remember “These sayings are faithful and true.”
My love is reaped in reward as all love sown
And always remember, you’re never alone

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dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight – Week 58

Hyde Park Poets Rally – Week 71

Summer in the City

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Johnny pumps sprinkle water on the kids in its midst
A modern city’s version of a provincial mist
The drifting mist calls, but I somehow resist
Knowing wet clothes aren’t high on my boss’ list
From blocks away I can see the asphalt steam
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

Summer sun blazes down on the street
Feels like my soles are melting off my feet
It’s just 8 AM and I’m sweating from the heat
I’ve got a long day to go and already feeling beat
The humidity making it all the more extreme
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

Perfectly pressed suit of the business woman
Perfectly squashed in the subway sardine can
Hotter than the devil’s cooking pan
Even in the shade I’m catching a tan
Skin feels like jelly oozing through my seam
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

Sweat drips and I can feel the drop of each
Fall to places my fingers simply just can’t reach
Another working Jane, dodging taxi tires’ screech
Adamantly not losing my manners with my speech
The horns, the haze, the heat, it all seems
Summer in the city makes me want to scream

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dVerse Poets Pub | In Summer-y; Dog Days/Zucchini/Poetics

Knowing

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Knowing you would be there for me

I laughed at your loving transgress

The proud boasting soliloquy

Of forever you would profess

Too long it took me to assess

All I feel now with abundance

And words I’m ready to express

Now fall on your heart of silence

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dVerse Poets Pub – FormForAll – Huitain

Separate Nights

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I wish I was with you.

As full as the moon above,
is my heart’s frustration

I want to be skin to skin.

Within your arms of love,
emptied of my desperation

Freed from the regret.

Sometimes harsh, sometimes sublime,
drifting between then and now

Time I know I shall never see

To meet again as if for the first time,
someday, somewhere, somehow

But I lay alone in my darkness.

Dreaming it’s your warmth I feel
as I tightly grasp my pillow

Desperate for your touch

Pretend that the wind’s gentle appeal,
is a sensual kiss you blow

Looking into Luna’s face instead.

I pretend my moon is the same
as the one that rides across your night

Just as strong, just as fragile.

As the eggshell syllables of your name
I whisper to the ghost of you in the moonlight

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dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 57

Into Azure

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13

From the cerulean
Gold falls
And ocher vales
Crimson plummets
In violet frenzy
Solemnly descending
To the depths
The nadir
Of night’s indigo

Reaching out
The vast emptiness
Bitter reminder
Of what was

Once again
Finding it fitting
My heart
As deeply plunged
Into azure

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dVerse Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar – Impressionistic Writing

the fall

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i watch as the world dresses in hues
of goldenrod, carnelian and fawn
shades of reality harden with dollar wine blues
then again, maybe it’s the sixth beer i’m on

refusing to believe the revolution, its been 365 tonight
the encore of champagne promises spilled among burned biscuits
and buns hard enough to make martha stewart cry outright
as i drained bottles and tears over the possible end of us

thrown off kilter i pleaded give me time, you gave me until fall
and seasons of dancing pixies floated atop my vodka on the rocks
waiting for the warm liqueurs to answer the call
but eyes glazed, would i have known if opportunity even knocks

my friend bill w knocked several times but i turned my face
thinking i still had time for you and him after my next beer
i never noticed as i fell from all my close friends grace
i had new friends in a variety of bottles colored and clear

straight faced i refresh my promises
to sailing sober no matter what it took
charm bought time with the doubting thomas’
but it wasn’t a trip I was ready to book

a year of a thousand little cases of dying
slipped by without fulfilling even a shadow of your desires
it’s once again smoldering in fall flair and i’m trying
but all i can smell is the burnt rubber of departing tires

class is over, but for me the lessons yet begun
it took two for conversation to engage
but the play had reached the end of its run
and you, the main thespian had left the stage

the job, the flat, the wheels left too, but still life’s sweet
with a flourish take a sip to autumn in the park
lying on the grass stretching out my feet
and take another sip to life in the growing dark

i note that dry leaves make fantastic kindling
thinking maybe i should extinguish the flame
my mind drunk in suicidal spindling
but i swear dropping the cigarette is not the same

damn i don’t know, did you kiss me goodbye
would i have even noticed after all
my ocean of tears can’t make inflamed kindling dry
i never did recover from the wagon’s fall  

Alcoholism

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Hyde Park – Thursday Poets Rally – Week 70

Hyde Park Purfact Poet at Rally – Week 70 – The Fall

I accept the award and nominate – Bohdirose

Just Say Good-bye

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No one but me can save myself, but it’s too late
Now I can’t think, think why I should even try
Yesterday seems as though he never existed
Death greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye
“Fade to Black” – Metallica / Live, Sh*t, Binge & Purge

I’ve tried this before to little avail
But this time determined to stay gold
My aim was true the blade took hold
The gashes on my arm a tempest of Braille
Of each attempt before where I failed
I believe I’ve played my final checkmate
In this quiet club where most anything goes
No one notices as I’m caught in pain’s throes
The link between life and death starting to mutate
No one but me can save myself, but it’s too late

My thoughts miles away, with millions to go
At last I leave this earth, this fool’s paradise
Smiling at the success of my pending demise
My heartbeat a descant to my blood’s smooth flow
An improvement on this life I’ve come to know
It’s an odd pleasantry as my body starts to die
The euphoria on knowing I will soon be free
My shirt adorned in the crimson spree
And try as I might, I simply cannot cry
Now I can’t think, think why I should even try

He will come now, I say dispelling my fears
A hole in the wall expands revealing a park
Giving entrance to a figure cryptic and dark
And I marvel how no one else sees or hears
As the avatar of death himself slowly appears
He comes now, years after his help was enlisted
His movement young and yet somehow old
Beauty redefined in his most unique mould
The “what if” and “what is” become rapidly twisted
Yesterday seems as though he never existed

And he comes soft as a murmuring breeze
To guide me from this plane to the next
I welcome this release from the pretext
That each day here was worthy of reprise
Feeling the release of life’s final degrees
I wanted this death, and Death is willing to comply
It’s the start of a beautiful friendship
He grasps my frail hand in this new kinship
But I’m not dying, for to say I have lived is a lie
Death greets me warm, now I will just say good-bye

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Yes, another glosa.

dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 56

In the Shadows of the Night

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In the shadows of the night
With a bright moon above
I lay here longing
For a chance at love

Each morning sun I rise
Hoping I find the one for me
Each night I go to bed
With my heart still empty

I’ve since long proven I can make it on my own
Now I’m just so tired of being all alone

In the shadows of the night
My heart I’m willing to share
But it don’t mean just any fool
Is going to be welcomed there

I once rushed too soon to someone
Who brought me nothing but pain
That was one hurt, one too many times
I don’t need to go there again

A man of faith, a man of heart, a man of his words and deeds
A king custom made for this queen, Lord you know what I need

In the shadows of the night
I offer my plea; my prayer
You built this vessel of love
But my cupboards are bare

Am I paying for some sin?
Did I transgress somewhere?
Is this how I repent?
Will no one ever be there?

Your daughter’s pleading, prostrate with hands clasped tight
Oh please release me Lord, from this harsh plight
How my heart is aching, in the shadows of the night

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It’s been a grr week…

Slice of Life Story Challenge

The Weekly Slice of Life Story Challenge

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dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight Mic

dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight ~ Week 55