Duct Tape & Daffodyls by Ven (epub e reader txt) 📕

/> they feared that there was no escape
But Beldame Faye had other plans
and with the magic she possessed
she swore to put the wrongs to right.
The common man was much impressed
and gathered all she did require
( from pheasant foot to juju child )
but seems the fool was easy duped
~ and spinster Faye just smiled.

For she who spun this mind game spell
was capable of evil deed.
and she who binds the will of men
can sow a heinous, wicked seed so he,
against his better will,
walked her chosen path and still
danced the puppet dance until
the dire enchantment was fulfilled.

By lurk he crept and entered in
through servants' door at shadowed rear.
The Lady Constance heard his slow paced
echoed stepand froze with fear
and as the mark ascended
o'er the stony tread of thirteenth stair
she slipped the child 'neath counterpane
and mouthed a silent, pleading prayer.

Her orison was made in vain
and as the slayer scoured the place
he heard the muffled infant's squall
and traced it to that hidden space.
From 'neath the quilted coverlet
that draped to floor at bedstead base
he lifted Cain to final clinch
~ of suffocating grim embrace.

Constance fell to bended knee,
torn by grief and sore lament
she begged the mark to slay her
and release her from this vile torment
but spell complete, he stood aghast,
incredulous and much contrite
he turned his face; took to heel
and left the scene by frenzied flight.


Wracked with guilt and torrid pain
he slid his pistol from his belt
and with contrition cursed
the evil hand that Beldame Faye had dealt.
He pressed the metal to his temple,
then with utter self disdain
he took himself to meet his maker,
on the verge near Bramble Lane.

Faye in squalid hovel sat
and viewed the scene through second sight.
Wrung her hands with gloating guile
and subtle grinned with sick delight
but had she stopped to gaze
a little longer at her crystal ball
she would have seen the livid face
of vengeance that would come to call.

Whispering to Nemesis,
Constance trod the brambled way
and beat a hasty step toward
the residence of Beldame Faye
in her hand she tightly held
a wooden handled carpet bag
its contents were; a piece of flint,
some pyrite and a gin soaked rag.

Faye still sat complacently,
crowing and self satisfied
as Constance gathered kindling
from the picket fence that ran the side
of where the garden met the lane,
then hushed of step she tiptoed o'er
the weed strewn path that traced the way
to flagstone stoop at Beldame's door.

In the porch she huddled
and determined to avenge the hurt
she lifted out the the gin soaked cloth
and draped it neatly 'round her skirt
then after setting bone-dry touchwood
in a modest self-made pyre,
she struck the goldstone on the flint
and quietly set herself afire.

As the flames took fuelled hold
The spinster was alerted and
she rushed toward the doorway
with a silver dagger in her hand
heaved the door to ample yaw
but then, before she could attack
Constance took her by surprise
and bound her snug in firey wrap.

And she who spun the mind game spell
was vengeance sent to flaming death
yes, she who played the will of men
and lived by trick did end by stealth
so evil deed for witches' gain
sent the culprit triple cursed and thus
~ each hex she ever spun
was by her death reversed.

The commoners (repentant)
raised the orphan child with honest love
and Cain grew strong and ruled the Kingdom,
pure of heart and fair there of


Thank You Devon

The source of my existence beats and thrums
as each tumbling, foam crested roll comes
and plants its urgent crashing kiss
upon this sharpened shale
and craggy cliff lined shore.

Before this perfect blue skied day
tide-like ebbs and slips away
I lie silent, mesmerized.
Hypnotized as fire meets water and dips again
below the subtle curve
of the flawless fluid horizon.

I feast my tired, heavy eyes
on lightly clouded, lilac skies
while fading light splays glistening rays
that watercolour paint a magic rippled trail
from beach to just beyond my reach.

No! Way beyond my reach!

A twilight shadow races in
and traces the faces of Sam and Bill
on the blank page that has lately been
my blind poets mind.
I reach to find my pen ~ and then, I write,
not to compete, but to feel complete.

Thank you Devon.


Return of the Jedi

I'm not bloody wearing that again
I don‟t care what you say.
No matter how much you beg and plead
I just don't want to play.
Yesterday was doctors and nurses,
the day before was rubber day.
Tuesday we played Amsterdam.
I did the deed, but you had to pay.
Monday I was Busty Barmaid.
That was cool, I got free beer,
but you don‟t look good as Jar Jar Binks
and I'm not bloody being Princess Leia.


Chimerical Voices

A technical glitch ?
The screen switches to speckled
snow storm grey.
White noise emanating ~ then disseminating.

The ear extracts chimerical voices
The brain reacts, honing in and deciphering. Normal programming resumes
and the experience is consciously dismissed.


Moving Mountains

Children play oblivious
in the valley down below.
In ten by ten foot gardens
where toxic roses grow
and slag heaps tower precariously,
(a top soiled, turfed solution)
as a patchwork quilted epitaph
to industrial revolution.


The Death Bringer

Miniscule javelins,
spearing iridescent carcasses
in a vain attempt to forever preserve
the beauty
that was extinguished this day
in the killing jar.

A beauty that the finest glass showcases,
edged with the purest gold
could not even begin to recapture.

This inane, insane offering
brought to you by
the lepidopterist.


Toward the Light

The return journey seems so much faster even thought I'm driving slow and soaking up the beauty of the landscape as I go over one hill, then another. Past craggy outcrops towering above the rolling green and patchwork quilted vale. I pause ... as born free descendents of worked hard pit ponies amble across the road ahead, blissfully unaware of the industrial shackles that bound their forefathers ~ and I smile. The sun begins to set slowly dipping her auburn flamed head below the tip of the horizon. Bathing my view in a pink hue of last minute day. I'm almost there now .. The buzzard on the fence post glances in my direction and emits an aura of knowing as if she feels my disappointment at having to climb this last hill
and clear its brow.
She tucks her head into her feathers and settles for the night. All too soon the wonder is gone, with nothing to mark the occasion. No signs to say "You are now leaving Paradise" or "Welcome to Barter Town" Yet, there they are ! ~ the artificial lights of home. Powered not by methane but by metaphoric, bureaucratic pig shit. I check the rear view mirror but all I see is blackness and the question raised in my mind is; How can beauty become so dark while this filth shines out so bright ?


The Name of the Game

In ecstasy you bind me.
With silken scarves you blind me.
In eight ball love you find me,
silent in submission.
As you tie my arms behind me
I find this state of mind to be
so peaceful, you've entwined me,
and I've given my permission.

I smile as you up-end me
tie my ankles and suspend me.
Though you do not condescend me
I become the exhibition.

Hung up, strung and abstract.
Taken (with dignity intact).
In accordance with the contract
and the name of the game ? SHIBARI.


The Willow Way

Hubble Bubble simmers
„neath the still and secret outer
while no evidence of broom nor extra tit
gives pointer to the eyesight
of the sceptic or the doubter
but see her at her work in natures pit
where raindrops fall and filter
through the height of treetop green
as the moonlight shows the fern
and bracken sway.
I swear you‟ll feel the power
and the wisdom of the Witch
As you place your foot
upon the Willow Way.


Leaving ~ Terminal Two

I‟ll languish in your steel embrace,
let slip this gown of silken lace,
stimulate
and suffocate
with satin skin and whispered
"wait".
But measure your pleasure,
twitch and rock,
appreciate each tick,
each tock
for soon I'll grant the blood-let course,
hold you down with subtle force
and sweep your throat with razor touch
for gushing love
and thrusting death
brings ecstasy beyond belief
and passion to the closing breath.
Sweet Love!
Before you cum (and go)
I'll stroke you tender, so you know
that malice this does not imply.
My aim was that, content, we die.
So take this as my gift and sigh,
as blade to breast
I kiss goodbye.
Azrael ( our saving light )
shall enter on this darkest night,
to find us here in lovers tryst
and carry us by fated twist
to fitting end of final lust
and destiny
of dust.


Remember? Why?

What pillage ?
Why ?
What creed despoiled
for blue eyed, false supremacy ?
What hollow caused ?
Who'll testify ?
When time erases witness eye.
All posterity need be read
the baleful Auschwitz tale of dread
so no dictation may impel
nor force again a race to Hell.
~
©Ven.27thJan2005
(60th Anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz)


Shared Despair

Have heart for those who must compose
such words of deep despair.
Creating
and orating
from the deepest depths of Hell
and also those who speechless, read
and shed an honest tear
for they have trod the hopeless road as well.


Ahh! Warmth

She walks down the stairway, un-slippered,
yet, still comfortable.
She enters the kitchen, and opens the freezer to be met by the sight of soft fishcakes
and pork chops
and peas.
The knife in the butter slides through
unaided, on the worktop.
And while passing by the sitting room door,
she hears a strange and unfamiliar sound - Family laughter !
Looks like the cold snap is over.


Spilt Milk

When the sun no longer shines because the haze is far too thick. When the acid in the water, burns your mouth and makes you sick. When your lungs are seared and blistered, from breathing in pollutants. When your nearest and your dearest, are clones, retards and mutants. When you sit in desolation, your head placed in your hands and watch humanity crumble, ‟cos there's no more back up plans. When you watch the dead and dying and the Reaper comes for you. When you realise we're all to blame who are You going to cry to ?


Xylak .. Champion of the Gnoxie

"He rode in on an Aardvark in the still and dead of night. His name was Xylak He was two