NaPoWriMo 29: love is not yours to steal

Your voice is a satin sheet
slinky-smooth and ice cold
Your raven hair a silent promise

Will you take me by the hand
Dance me till I’m hoarse, paint
My insides golden with
Your sceptre smiling dark

But you’ll have to find this girl first
Where she lies curled in oceans deep
latitude-longtitude carved into your spine

And will you be her Edward
Her silver-tongued lover
That’s not you; your future is not
In light and fire, but the void bleak

T’es mon amour sans l’amour
Too dead to rule
And too alive to claim otherwise

I? Ailae, Daz? No, not to you
I have no name in your eyes
An indifferent murderer
To pluck your tongue

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