#4





The Faerie

she tried to change them
the one who was crude with self loathing
stuffing fruit in his cheeks and swinging
by tail from rafters
she tried to console
the one who was more than half dead
a beautiful zombie
she showered with praise
morning dew sparking the spider's web
she wrote him stories
of love and worship
the one who was kinky and cold
she wept on his chest to thaw his heart
she rubbed salve on his head
to melt the horns
the one who was bitter and cruel
she wrote poems for him
for thirty days straight
to heal his wounds
she rubbed cream on his hooves to give him back feet
finally she gave up on all of them
what business did she have to change them?
her magic could be used for better purposes

so she was alone
and then finally another one came
no demon he, just a man
and she knew none of them had really been demons at all
perhaps they had become what they were because of her?
she hadn't noticed the tail or hooves or horns at first
the rotting flesh
no, she might have been responsible
but this man, she let him be
she let him lead her
she let him come and go
she let him have his silence
she knew that if the pain became too great
she would not try to make him
something he was not
she would simply use her spells upon herself
and leave





Comments

  • starwhisper Thursday, 30 August 2012

    04. there, through the blues & yellows a thin,...

    04.there, through the blues & yellowsa thin, transparent apparitionlurks electricallyamong a field overgrownwith wildflowers.perfumed wind whips wantonlyseducing me with every whisper.i will fall into arms too thin to catch me.i will lie on the groundtoo content to get up.

  • Lulu Rose Thursday, 23 August 2012

    oooh jessa i love this!

    oooh jessa i love this!

  • Lulu Rose Thursday, 23 August 2012

    This comment has been removed by the author.

  • Imogen Wednesday, 22 August 2012

    Today I can't give you roses or rainbows. Thi...

    TodayI can'tgive you rosesor rainbows.This silenceis not fatal, butlife threateningstill.However, they makepills for thatnow

  • aurora Wednesday, 22 August 2012

    it is more likely that i will find meaning in an e...

    it is more likely that i will findmeaning inan episode of Seinfeldthan in a poemin my chronic feelings ofinferiority pinching at my waistline andblowing my nose whilesipping my (third) glass of wine from an ikea tumblerbutperhapsthere is beauty to be foundin the sound of your text toneandthat photo i sent you of trepanningand in our constant chatter of synthpopand there is love thereand that is poetrymy petty inferiority complex and our love(apologies for the delete!!!!)

  • Aurora Wednesday, 22 August 2012

    This comment has been removed by the author.

  • Yajaira Wednesday, 22 August 2012

    I always wondered about the girl with the large br...

    I always wondered about the girl with the large brown eyesa red ribbon in her fawn colored hairShe walked on the tips of her toes slowly as if each step waswas a wager on her life, and when she ran she darted quicklyalmost animal like always as if escapingI always wondered about the way the boys followed herlike hunters their compliments raised weaponswaiting for her to falter and say yes I always wondered about her boyfriend with silver black haireyes always hungry, hands always seductive holding her neckhis kissed seemed to hurt leaving faint bruises on her lipsIn the dawn early morning I found a dead deera red ribbon tied to its neck its chest ripped open exposing a missing heartIn the news I heard that some hunters had killed a silver black wolfa heart in its mouth...the browned eyed girl and her boyfriend were never seen again

  • Ashley Elizabeth Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    #4 Crumbs Tear-stained, crumbled paper on the g...

    #4 CrumbsTear-stained, crumbled paperon the ground surrounded by torn in half picturesand broken frameschina dolls and Barbie dollsbrokenbroken Poetry flutters around the roompapers burning as they hit the floora sweet breeze blows in from the west all she can smell is fresh-baked cake from her mother's kitchenblowing out the candle tossing broken things into trash bagsshe runs downstairs, to grab a slice of childhood.

  • Krista Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    eyes once blue and sparkling now dull and dark i w...

    eyes once blue and sparklingnow dull and darki wrote you a poemso short and sweetall about those eyesand those angel handsi thought you wereperfect togetherand now just a wrinkledpage in my journali occasionally givea passing glanceand snivel at my childishhandwriting

  • Molli Gould Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    Silent movie in the park music played by brute hea...

    Silent movie in the parkmusic played by brute heartthey ooh and aww like melodic wolves moon-walking in deep forestswatch the phantoms on filmwith their sweet black make upand sepia-toned skin hands dancing frantic through the stage set worldThere is that otherworld on the projector screenflinting electricThere is the violins and the girls singingthere is me wrapped in a blanketstaring from the top of the hill at the screenand city skyscape.There is my friend wearing a dress and she brought homemade chocolateand when I'm speaking it feels like silenceand the silence feels like speaking in a realm where opposites and paradoxes and complexitiesshare something, sit side by side.I am speechless.

  • Jenn Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    your manic pixie dream girl is not your manic pixi...

    your manic pixie dream girl is not your manic pixie dream girl,she is all her ownyeah she can bring you to life, alter your beingbut she is not a geniedo you know how much energy you cost? she only has so much to spend,you can drain her if you are not carefuland it's not true what they say, she doesn't need you to believe in hershe knows her power and it is not up for grabs, she is not found treasureshe was never lostshe is just a human girl who never lost her sightwho never forgot her true originswho who has always known that we are made of: the same exploding nebulae as goldthe same pressure as diamonds the same force that is still pushing the universe open--an eternal blooming of light

  • Jessa Marie Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    Whoa, may I just add that I wrote my poem early th...

    Whoa, may I just add that I wrote my poem early this morning and cannot believe the parallels to the pictures you posted for tomorrow's poem! Freakin' weird.

  • Jessa Marie Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    4. dead animal you left your jacket at my house w...

    4. dead animalyou left your jacket at my housewhen you went to eat your georgia peach(of course you wouldn't need it in the southern heat)worn brown leather, so suppleslightly sweethint of ember, hint of fall(seasons are changing)i wrap myself in this cocoon of youmaybe i will emerge a butterflymaybe i will not survive the metamorphosismaybe if you smell yourself on meyou will love me (again)this artfully tailored carcasssuch a casual invasion of my spacewhen you return i will ignore the necklace of mouth shaped bruisesi will wrap myself in this cocoon of you(and sleep)

  • Jessa Marie Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    I love this!

    I love this!

  • alice mae Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    As she stumbled through the woods it became harde...

    As she stumbled through the woods it became harder for her not to let her eyesdart around searching for a fork in the road, a way outwanted to escape her darkness, leave behind what was hindering herfelt the pull on each of her limbs, the cloak heavy around her shouldersthe biting cold was a welcome retreat fromthe fire of his bedwhere she could still feel the marks of his handsshe shed her shoes, opting instead for her feet against what had organically fallenneeded to eradicate her mouth of anything metallic.For too long she had allowed herself to be burdened with the smogthat hung low over her city, intoxicating tonic of polluted airshe forgot how to breath without labordid not know her lungs held capacity for more than smokeher hands no longer ached for the chill glassas she made her way farther away the ribbons that had once tied her,that had held her prisoner in the satin of her stubbornness,the sighed off the lonelinesstook deep into her hands the knowledge that she was not alonethe trees bowed to her, promising their companyfor once she did not shy away from their rough tendernessallowed herself to be swept up in their branchesand watched her old self wander aimlessglad to be rid of what held her down.

  • Anonymous Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    VERDURE Tend to the garden, I will to your beds o...

    VERDURETend to the garden, I willto your beds of roses,petals as white as your skin luminous under a harvest moon, breathe in I willThe fragrance of your springtime blossoms,And cultivate the soil from which hyacinth spring and bend in a close arc,so like your spine pressed against me when we restyour back pressed against my chest,then lying in the heat of summer when you crave a rain,conjure up a storm I willto drench your vines, douse the leaves and wet the roots spread through your verdant acres,and at the end of autumnI will collect leafless boughs dangling from a curly willow,gather them contorted in my arms,like your arms, wrists crossed above your head,when we rest myself atop you,and always in my winter,the leaves of your maples I will keep coursing with scarlet and blushing no dormancy, my love never in repose.

  • Teddi Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    she walks in beauty like a goddess stirring the cl...

    she walks in beauty like a goddessstirring the clouds, and whirling the windcreating a rainbow concoction a recipe of stars, at her feetrippling seismic waves, with each stepthe mountains behind hershe has the power to changethe atmosphere

  • francescalia Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    http://octobermachine.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/...

  • Exitonpch Tuesday, 21 August 2012

    #4 (from the illustration that was briefly posted,...

    #4 (from the illustration that was briefly posted, now gone)Why must pretty birds belocked in cages?Won't they stay of their own accordwhile the piper pipes?Where would they go, tail feathers like ruddersto the distant peaks, to a perchnear each other, perhapsfar, maybe they don't get alongand must be kept apartand it wouldn't be fair to only cage oneand they'd one or both leaveand who wants that?Meanwhile, serenely she playsunconcerned and certainof her audience.We don't know the sweet songor the symbolism of pink and petalsonly that there is no past or futurein a cage

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