Tag Archives: forest

Straggler of the Pack

When we are gone, who will keep up the garden?
Like a mother calling her boy, I am, I am so unsafe
But she can’t do it alone
But there’s nothing stronger than her prayers
Nothing stronger than the smell of reds
My father’s reds…

~*~

The run is a false pretence thrill, and vigilant shadows chased back

Got a rotting dog’s canines stuck deep between both cramping calves

Still, their furious barks resonated from every corner of the forest gloom

Attempting to escape from a burning house, and evening came too soon

.

The chase was always in circles, between a mangy maw and a mangled tail

Open wounds stung from the vicious sweat, the salt will nourish only for a day

Still, rabid growls swallowed back the purple tongue which licked at the venom

The fire had long been snuffed, yet disobedient paws still prayed to be the victim.

~*~

Everyone cares, every eye
Carelessly tiptoes around you
Watching you, they’ll wear black ties
And as they applaud, I’ll count claps
Like the fig tree the master cursed
The arms that gave us life take so much more.

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Beware The Rattlebones

“It was perfectly dark, now, but the opening door disturbed the air, and I heard things rattle gently, like dry bones in thin bags, in the slight wind. Click. Clack. Click. Clack.” ~Trigger Warning; Neil Gaiman

~*~

Beware the rattlebones, my child

Who runs every hallow’s eve in the wild

Beware its sharp teeth and sharper smile

That charms like a flower and bites like a file

Beware the thin fingers and nails of green

The chants of red and whispers of mean

And trifle bones that rattle and shake

As if your own heart, it quivers and breaks

.

Beware the rattlebones, my child

For its soul is black and mind grimmer wild

When the fell night is sparse and serene

It goes click click click through the evergreen

As yonder ravens forebode a shrill cry

Still under ominous mist and past the starless sky

It thus waits, for a wandering victim to walk

Into its precarious winds so the poor one it could stalk

.

Beware the rattlebones, my child

Who treads the forest beyond the wild

As its glowing eyes of blinding white

Shall take you on with such a vicious sight

Beware the inky blood that steadfastly drips

From its mangled dry skin and stretched-out lips

Touch not the roughness of its crackled flesh

Hear not its bloodcurdling cackles, or else

.

Beware the rattlebones, my child

For it lives and breathes not only in the wild

It can sneak up to your bedroom window

And no nightlight nor blanket can make it go

But beware if it visits you as you peacefully repose

For you are chosen to be its supper close

If you do unfortunately meet the rattlebones, child, then

Run like hell, or you’ll become one of them.

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Demesne

after wasting

perspiration,

heaving in

respiration,

and hiking

with severe

exhaustion,

we reach our

ultimate

destination.

and in those

tranquil

moments,

humming

songs with

the algid

soothing

waters up

to my

trembling

toes and knees,

sitting by

a mossy

boulder

on the

lassitude

banks

next to the

effervescent

spilling

waterfall

—glistening

and gossamer

as it falls in

crashes and

myriad riots

of liquid

iridescence—

surrounded

by verdant

foliage and

halcyon

greenery,

in a misty

forest deep

in the heart

of the virgin

mountain,

untroubled

in solitude

and playing in

a faux paradise…

i’ve never

felt more

invincible.

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Purple Ink (an adventure in absentia)

You accidentally slipped in purple ink and died

Because you were busy pacing, too preoccupied

Chewing nervously on the end of your dented Biro

Accentuating every last thought with a sigh hitherto

.

Upon waking and discovery, you jolt in a dazed state

Your dirt-beaten striped sneakers noisily squeaking

As you dusted yourself and held your awaiting fate

You began your unlikely journey and start travelling

.

Wandering lost upon a forestry of a wildlife mind

Every thick foliage a verdant idea finely efflorescing

Every path an untraced road of the life you left behind

Crushed carmine blossoms plucked away and wilting

.

No sense of direction. Where are you? The lunar ostentation

Pierces into your amour-propre, setting it blindingly alight

With your foolish absurdity, in bland starless observations

Of the complacent monsters you’ve yet to encounter and fight

.

Chasing after creeping vineyards, when their wine is parched

Do you understand? They’ve nothing left to give your thirsty soul

A paucity of the former, this broken forest you vainly marched

What’s the endgame to this latent excuse of a failing goal?

.

Your sanity has turned upon yourself, hordes of screaming demons

That reach for your insatiable hunger, in a lusting of the brain stem

Where’s the exit? Where’s the exit? You attempt vainly yet stumble, gone

Reaching for the light at the end of the tunnel as they devour your lumen

.

Consciousness prods at your eyes, the form of an almost irritating light

Hear an alarm of a beeping machine like a metronome and salty liquid

Your head shall be fine, you’ll recover, doctors assure your ghastly sight

Their placated shiny smiles of false relief dripping disgustingly insipid

.

You accidentally slipped in purple ink, hit your head, and yet surprisingly survived

They said it was a nice miracle, but then again, the Vatican fabulists love a good lie

For the creatures slopped their saliva all over your cerebrum, infecting you thereon

Think it a ludicrous story? Dear, you should’ve seen that slimy ink you stepped upon.

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