Pricked

The sound of a pin dropped vacuous threat of calm before the storm up until now. The many-faced the nameless strangled in the yarn. Confess. Confess. Arguments! Be damned. Dance for madam like an ape Tarzan hate Jane? The rampage rolls on. Rumplestiltkin! What have you done? The princess has escaped. Advertisements

Miss McCarthy

Look at her Turning heads Only dead men left When she’s done spinning tales No one is safe ‘cept the president The inquisition has returned Transgendered Men burn At a word from the female Pain Precedes Cruelty ‘Have you no decency, sir?’ Madam will be the judge of that The charges are weighed Against her … Continue reading

Return to Sender

The Box Memories faded now of you coming up the street sometimes on a motorcycle unseen but audible and I, often times excited rushing out to meet you full of hope careful not to let it show in case of disappointment which never lasted long because there was still tomorrow and you seldom let us … Continue reading

Rib It

Miss Piggy wiggly horny eyes alive with lust thrust busty bacon bits on Kermit whose remit is to hit it… until it sizzles.

Short Legs

Government demands an annual fee if you watch TV, assuming you own one, and a radio, the status quo we, the citizens, at our own discretion reported on the appropriate forms, leading to an overhaul, on account of the lies we wrote; no radios, and incredibly, no TVs. So now we all pay television fees – … Continue reading

Closing At Six

sunlight streaming in time, clad in beautiful smile precious advent, Christmas eve quiet beast nibbling smiling to the finish-line breakfast is over her water broke it’s going to be a boy procure frankincense and myrrh before six, the baby needs it.

Gifted

December, the merchants wet dream, beaming grubby the lot of ’em, Santa’s yes men lining the route to Bethlehem. * A myth, it is not, don’t get caught, without gifts, such brazen display of war on Christmas is unforgivable. * Cosy wintry Christmas morning, an empty shell, absent crinkly coloured paper dotted with reindeer sleighs and … Continue reading

Laughing At Illusions

Roller-blading old school on water fountains spouting nothing but familiar hoods and goods nobody wants haunted by the chance to find nirvana, torn sworn to secrecy defeated no-show witness in her own trial for a vial of reality on second avenue or was it first rehearsal in reverse down the middle of a hill tilted sideways slowing … Continue reading

Force Fed

Must shield my mind if I am to survive the encounter Shoo away the first that emperor fellow learn the worth of the second Is he a good man? Too strong his mind Caution Luke! I am your father That’s not good he’ll try to force his opinions on me I was better off as … Continue reading

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Chez Moi

A repository of recipes and memories

thedrabble.wordpress.com/

Shortness of Breadth

ALYAZYA

A little something for you.

THE MORDANT SCRIBE

Cynical musings of an absurd mind.

Moosmosis

Exploring an Arts & Sciences Education

The Whitechapel Whelk

Ripping the piss since 1888

yaskhan

Poetry, free verse, haiku, senryu, photography, books, art, philosophy , nature.

evavanbeek

ABOUT POETRY, ART, AND POLITICS

A Word Of Substance

"Object Relations"

Mirrorgirl

My life as a psychologist

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THE DRIVELLINGS OF TWATTERSLEY FROMAGE

A Holistic Journey

Finding my way back out of motherhood -- while mothering

All Thoughts Work™ Outdoors

Hiking with snark in the beautiful Pacific Northwest 2011 - 2013

Odyssey of a Novice Writer

Aspiring novelist. Avid reader of fiction. Reviewer of books. By day, my undercover identity is that of meek, mild-mannered legal assistant, Kate Loveton, working in the confines of a stuffy corporate law office; by night, however, I'm a super hero: Kate Loveton, Aspiring Novelist and Spinner of Tales. My favorite words are 'Once upon a time... ' Won't you join me on my journey as I attempt to turn a hobby into something more?