She’s in love with a new preacher: a chaste charismatic angel, young and full of the Lord’s fire. His is a life she longs to claim — a mortal life promised to eternity, a mortal life repulsed by carnality. She knows this, but it doesn’t stop her. She’s in love with a retired preacher:…
Star-borne, dust-kissed, waiting for a bastard prince to take this weak host body and poison Soul with soil, sod, persuade all that seeds grow in Dirt. Growling is what dead animals provoke. Isn't carbon comely as the source of His glory with no story of her Own? Photo by Alise AliNari on Pexels.com From the 2021…
About That Ugly Girl: “She’ll certainly never charm A boy’s eye or be asked to prom. She’ll never hear the words I do And have a partner by her side. She’ll never know the touch Of love from a soul mate’s arms. Poor thing, look at her face… Oh, isn’t she pathetic?” They don’t…
About an hour ago, I decided to throw a semi-quiet mini temper tantrum at Barnes & Noble in which I loudly exclaimed how many of the books in their expanded poetry section were trash shock value greeting card instapoetry along the lines of "Fuck," she said, "I'll never get him back." THIS IS NOT POETRY.…
I am the goddess left alive, daughter of Cronus tortured by hardened hands because he could. Rhea saved her son. Couldn't bother with me. I had to wait for Zeus to grow up and save first our swallowed siblings. Those years were an eternity. An eternity of cheeks torn shiny red raw from calloused flesh arrows. An eternity of lying…
Sneaking through the woods at night, I hold my cape just so To hide the wild pets I’ve found, Brave beasts from down below but… Rolf the hellhound runs to chase A possum up its tree. Vera rolls her glowing eyes, Elucidates ennui. Mara rears on her goat legs, Yawping at the hound. Beelzebub…
They named me heretic and tied me up, but they did not burn me, for that would have been mercy. From the top of a trebuchet, they fixed my gaze upon my little town to watch as they stabbed my little girl through her stomach with a bloody blade, strangled my mother with…
Crickets play in my head trilling see see see see me me me me seem seem seem seem louder and louder they sound see see see see me me me me seem seem seem seem “Seem what? Seem what?” I shriek. A katydid answers in the pause — in love with me in love with…
Exit through the alley doors, too Scared to stay and suffer through Crowded clubs that welcomed your Appealing face and figure. Phantoms pace and leer with longing, Expecting Thursday's sale buffet. True, you came for the dance, Heated bodies, and pulsing beat, to join Everyone in cheering for another round, Offered to the DJ's whims. God,…
My home in ruins, torn bricks flattened in the crater crevice, yet no tears flow. I meander into the chasm, find a space-borne shard, lift it to my lips, and place it under my tongue. Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
National Poetry Writing Month
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
About fantastical places and other stuff
"The silence of the night awakens my soul"
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Saralyn Caine Poetry 