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poetry

Retro Recaps: Stargate SG-1 – “The Tok’ra” Parts 1 and 2

Season 2 Episodes 11 and 12: Goa’uld beware, your two greatest enemies are teaming up! Dun dun dun!

Continue reading “Retro Recaps: Stargate SG-1 – “The Tok’ra” Parts 1 and 2″

Write a Halloween Story!

As you are probably aware, I have been posting Halloween-themed poems and prose throughout the month of October. Today, however, I hand you the power.

In the comment section, write a flash fiction or poem based on the prompt below. There is no prize, there is no incentive to participate. Just some old-fashioned storytelling in a new-fashioned medium.

The rules? No rape.

And GO

This Old Man (poem)

This old man, he wore red

He played hatchet with my head

Whick-whack, crack-a-back

Gave the dogs my bones

This old man went riding home

The Witch of the Wood (poem)

She walks a forest dark and dreary

On a path with legs so weary

A ghostly chill sits in her bones

And injects her blood with ecstatic moans

 

She casts a shadow, long and dark

To dispel the light upon the bark

Shades of talons upon the path,

Claws and paws her magic hath

 

A shadow jumps at her approach

Freeing territory for her encroach

With a cry flies away the owl

Toward the moon like the wolf’s howl

 

Monsters convene in her wake

To see the magic she will take

Her walk awakens the mystic blood

Of the most dangerous creature of the wood

 

She walks a forest dark and dreary

On a path with legs so weary

She is the shadows of the night

She is the cause of all the fright

Haunted Lullaby (poem)

Hush my child

My tender love

The light is gone

As is your fear

Rest, my babe

My wily woe

Feel the absence

Of light’s harsh gage

You are safe with me

Your mother kind

Who can teach you shadows

Are better than wine

There’s freedom in blackness

And comfort in shadow

That plays on walls

And derelict doors

The walls have sayings

The rafters, gossip

You’ll never be lonely,

My little slip

The wind is gentle

And likes creaky tones

You’ll learn to love

Its syncopated notes

Never mind the basement monsters

They are shy

And fear your stares

Hush my child

My darling babe

Hear my lullaby

Your refuge, our cage

Let it Go (poem) (NSFW)

I felt your teeth between my legs

Your tongue, teasing

As you ate

You loved me

Though you were gone by dawn

I wanted you again

So I let it go

 

I saw you for three months more

You only bit once

So I opened my legs and wondered

About my neck

I came more times that night

Than I ever came before

Yet my heart was empty

 

Another three months

When you asked again

I exposed my neck

Your blank canvas

You drank

Tentatively

When you hungered more

Your fangs migrated south

I provided

And let the rest go

 

Another three months

Again from my thigh

I hunger for

Your teasing at my neck

I am locked in a cycle that sucks

More than blood

I don’t know how

To let it go

Revolutionary (poem)

They say to win the revolution, she traded her soul

That is a lie

I knew her before she ascended

There was never a soul

I know not where it went

Nor who took it

Perhaps she hid it and misplaced the key

I have seen her look

When she treated the wounded

Or helped the lost children

But her soul is forever lost

She excelled on the battlefield where emotions

Ricocheted like weak arrows

Destruction did not destroy her

So she stands upon the palace

In the ruins of the kingdom’s might

Truly lost

For a soul is required to rebuild

From her destruction

I Dream of Fire (poem)

I dream of fire, of smoke and ember rugs.

My arms are bound, my legs are ash and blood.

The cries of the people roar with the flames,

And when I wake I shake off fear and sweat.

In the morn, I brush the flames from my hair

From the shower so hot the dream returned;

The droplets burn my shoulders, yet they lay

Untouched by me. Not real, I tell myself.

So when I walk to school I can ignore

The cries of the people, the stares and smirks

Of those who take their pleasure from my pain.

Their hatred is their offense against me.

My life is a walking battle, therefore

My armor is thin, my arms are heavy;

I must rely only on my magic—

The fires that burn in my bones and blood.

In my defense, in its use, I become

The one who burns herself at the stake.

Something Wicked This Way Comes to My Blog!

Ah, October. Pumpkin spice and colored foliage and bulky sweaters and, of course, Halloween!

In celebration of this holiday, I will be posting paranormal-themed poetry and flash fiction throughout the month. Look for these poems when the sun sets and the wind picks up. Keep the light close and the salt closer.

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