Internal Monologue ~ The Hellspawn Neighbor

Interior Monologue ~ The Hellspawn Neighbor

I curse the day my old neighbor sold his house

and let a drugstore farmer infest the block.

His waist-high grass harbors tick and flea and mouse,

a few copperheads for that cardiac paddle shock.

He came out to chew the fat and shake my hand

about the time he stopped cleaning out his swimming pool:

"We're holistically subsistence farming the land."

(must eat weeds and empty mulch bags, the damn fool.)

"I'm sorry those starving guinea hens got free--

and tore up all your flower beds like that.

Have I mentioned that I have an advanced degree?"

(was that in Freakazoid, or just Asshat?)

"..and something seems to kill off all my bees

in that hive I stuck in triple digit sun…"

(that you ignored, under dropping-limbed dead trees,

and all summer never watered even once?)

Now he's decided to mow just the front yard (half)

piles sour clippings high in giant piles.

Mosquitoes breed in his pool tarp's sagging raft

Is it wrong to hope it's him who gets West Nile?

~September 2012

Dead Hive~Note the Never-Filled Water Bottle.

Posted for   real toads

Kerry's Wednesday Challenge: The Internal Monologue

Kerry asks us to carry on an interior monologue which illuminates our feelings towards a human irritant with which we must deal. For me, that would be Idiotman next door.

VERY Optional Musical Accompaniment,

 cuz, Ten Minutes--still, a great song.

Photos © joyannjones

 

Circe Speaks

Circe Speaks

After twenty-six cups of wine

a warrior turns into a swine.

They called it witch's sorcery, poison lore;

but really, all I ever did was pour

~August 2012

Posted for   OpenLinkNight   at dVerse Poets Pub 
A short one, to make up for all the long ones, and double shots lately. I *have* included an extra, completely optional poem, for those who care to go there, though.

 ~*~

Circe Speaks also appears at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads today, as part of a personal challenge writing exercise on bad girls and the bad, bad things they do.  Since Toad-in-Chief Kerry O'Connor has suggested it, if interested you can read my sonnet inspired by Lady Caroline Lamb which also appears there below:

Caro's Sonnet

I saw your midnight eyes fix on me, love

without a speck of kindness in their glow.

I should not have loved this long, to see you prove   

my point: 'mad, bad, and dangerous to know,'

but your spoken candle threw a luring light,

the moth soul shattered its shell of silent doubt.

Then thirst and scorn gave in to lover's night

till the moth was dead, the candle guttered out.

It seemed well worth it, all the things I lost,

my place, my peace, my sanity at last

to chase your lies and never count the cost,

to drink your hate, for love emptied too fast.

The dust of that scarlet poppy fills my cup;

now all that's left me is to drink it up.

~August 2012

Header Image: Circe Invidiosa, by John Wiliam Waterhouse, 1892

Public Domain, via wikipaintings.org
Footer Image, Portrait of Lady Caroline Lamb, by Sir Thomas Lawrence
Public Domain, via wikimedia commons

 

Apple Green Vesper

In the spirit of Labor Day, I'm taking the weekend off from prompts to work on a little project, but to keep the site from looking boringly the same, I'm posting a poem I wrote earlier in the week for Flipside Records' word list.

 Apple Green Vesper

Here is my bed

where the apple green sheets

hide a chrysolite heart

where memories desiccate,

clustered in sweetness,

raisin'd from seasons

already gone past
when the world was newborn,

washing the palate

turned bitter as mandrake.

Here is my bed, 
where I find

contentment overwhelmed.

Here hard built answers

fall around my navel

cover my waist with

the crumbled stone dust

of every night 

spent together, 
every dawn broken

on starvation,

rucked in a ravaged wad,

pushing the price of lust higher,

putting the sparse shekels

of old arousal 
to scorn.

I long to climb
a heart of cedar,

make an apple green bed
of full bending boughs,

where escorts of feathers
fall in the song

where life's
willing captive is laden

as the seedhead, emerald
as winter wheat

in a field prepared, 
barren

no more.

~August 2012

Word List:cluster,raisins,escorted,washing,chrysolite,cedar,sweetness,overwhelm,
navel,goblet,waist,wheat,captive,climb,mandrakes,rouse,contentment,shekel,laden,
scorned  Thanks, Flipside.

Image: Green Apple, by Image Editor, on flick'r

Shared under a Creative Commons License