NaPoWriMo 27: to be a ghost

It’s not much fun
to be a ghost
It’s rather hard
To read the post

It’s rather dull
Being a skeleton
Tasty meals
Come rather seldom

It’s not much fun
To be a ghost
Dogs are scared
So is your goat

It’s rather dull
Being a skeleton
Does rather little
For one’s seratonin

It’s not much fun
To be a ghost
Can’t turn news pages
Or build a moat

It’s rather dull
Being a skeleton
No sweat before
Your bones start melting

It’s not much fun
To be a ghost
Except when haunting
Giant boats

It’s rather dull
Being a skeleton
Though much easier
To break a melon

NaPoWriMo 26: Waking up

Yesterday, she was a swallow swell
A dove rested safe on laurels high
Her proud cockerel smiling wide
Their hands intertwined in thoughtless bind
As strong figureheads, kingpins blind
Edicts ornamental as the tomes of gnostic Church’s bell

Today she brings rage in fiery blaze
Justice chaotic from skies above
Sorrowful destroyer wreaking havoc with love
Phoenix rebelling, no longer placid dove
But light, remade-

NaPoWriMo 25: you break me

You break me in a sunlit waltz
When we whirl in a dusty motel room

You break me over dinner and single malt
When you choose education over us

You break me when you call
To whisper wishes of my presence

You break me when your smile falls
As I tell you I can’t stay

You break me with a blonde pretty girl
Shining next to you in photos

You break me, with my short black curls
And cynicism, snark and pain.

NaPoWriMo 22: the princess and the dragon

Listen, dear children to this story I tell
Of wonder and marvel and silver bells
It takes place in a land far far away
With sunny skies in a warm spring May

We start with a princess, tall and dark
With tawny skin, hair white and stark
And a brooding magician with long black hair
Wreaking havoc on our land, so warm and fair

So she takes up her sword and mounts her horse
Prepared to fight to the death against his force
Rides to his dark tower on mountain high
Dismounts and knocks three times, eyes on the sky

But it isn’t long black hair and brooding eyes
That looks down from the window in the sky
But instead two huge doors down below
Open wide to reveal what she could not have known

A scaly, horrifying gold eyed dragon
Steps out, bigger than ten horse wagons
And as it meets her astonished gaze
She stumbles back, in a terrified daze

But as he, resigned, gets ready to fight
Like the evil creature he knows he is inside
She flings away her sword and weeps
For the scared hollow man in the creature deep

“Why do you cry?” the dragon rumbles
For this is not how the story usually tumbles
“I know how it is,” she whispers through her tears
“to be an outcast, the subject of everyone’s fears.”

Since she was young, a brown skinned white haired child
Her subjects have feared her as anything but mild
Accused her father of taking a witch to bed
And no matter how she tried, their hate filled her head

The brooding magician? He has the curse she did not
Son of dragon and human, a sorry plot
And so within he has a burning rage
Which only grew stronger the greater his age

“And this is why you cause such havoc,”
She says, “because of your inner panic.”
“Yes,” he replies, dragon no more
But a quivering human, crouched on the floor

Slowly, she bends to reach her hand to him
An outcast to another, almost kin
“We’ll work this out,” and her promise is fierce
With a truth that through his doubt does pierce.

NaPoWriMo 20: on a dusty moon

Her husband – dead
Home planet – gone
All last words – said
Sky soft – dawn
The ground – hard
Location – unknown
Role now – guard
For the child in her stomach – grown

Dead from a stray blast of fire – her husband
Gone in an instant, obliterated from the sky – home planet
Said in a rush as she ran through the portal – all last words
Dawn of a strange place – sky soft
Hard, rocky and cold with litle foliage – the ground
Unknown, but with no civilisation in sight – location
Guard, though it’s hard with no food or shelter – role now
Grown enough that she can die soon – For the child in her stomach

NaPoWriMo 19: Lazarus Jewel Box

Lazarus had a jewel box
Craft’ of gold and wood
Embedded emeralds bright
Shining like none else could

Within was contained a secret great
One that Lazarus took to his grave
The mystery way by which the Holy Son
Raised, walked, healed and saved

A gift from God to the dead lived again
To bestow to a worthy son
To one who could bring again on the Earth
The light of Heavenly sun

Yet Lazarus, struck down by vicious plague
Left jewel box in hidden care
To a miscreant child who, desperate in debt
Sold the box for a knobbly mare

Though the jewel box had its own protection
And to no owner it would yield
For years it would wait on wasteful display
For the the one who would be Earth’s new shield

In a museum in France it ended
And there still now it waits
Till the Chosen One will find their way
Open the box and Heaven’s gates

NaPoWriMo 18: you will invade me

This is a lesson,
In the powers of repression
to learn what you’ve done
Though your self-oppression

Would you tremble such,
Quiver at every touch
If you’d succumbed to night-time desires
As you wished so much?

But you were a good girl
Though your mind would whirl
With thoughts of handcuffs
And a hand gripping your curls

But you’re a soldier, hun,
Muscled and darkened by sun
Too much self-control
To ever really have fun

So he’ll run a finger down your thigh
Smile as you quiver and sigh
Then scrape his teeth ‘gainst your neck
Arched back from the endorphin high.