The Connoisseur
Her evening dress danced
on the first floor balcony -
swimming pool ripples,
black nails, and red wine -
swirled, sniffed, sip-gulped, and savored -
ruby eyes sparkled
in peach or delight?
Bottle green veins on her hands
implied otherwise.
Connoisseur of men;
she finished the bottle and
left me in the pool.
The Knight
On his knees he went,
head bowed in admiration
for the silver blade.
Nothing comes for free-
nights he’d spent alone in prayer,
begging for this day.
Angelic he looked,
muscles bulging under white;
molten metal words
(metallic on tongue)
delighted the bystanders’
cotton-eared beliefs.
Filthy were his knees
when he received his armor;
chain mail on a tray -
honor is a meal
had with silver chopstick swords;
heavy metal hearts
pierced by promises
of bravery and riches;
blatant lies for life.
He died the next day -
a boy of twenty-seven -
by the river bed.
Black Dragon waited,
ripped his head clear from his neck,
swallowed his helmet,
and used his rib bone
(cold flesh dangling over lip);
daggers need cleaning.
Israel
Olives and bullets,
buses loaded with young guns -
Shalom and goodbye.
Dilemma
While the last flame dies,
darkness will entangle you -
no more matches left.
The Trial of Marie de Moriet
Judge Smythe pulled a face:
‘Clearly a case of murder;
the details are clear,’
the prosecutor,
a man of fifty-seven,
announced with a sneer.
She had not spoken,
(needles had stolen her tongue)
not once in a year;
in ward fifty one
a nurse took pity on her;
the battle was won.
Tears rolled down her cheeks
as she took the stand that day-
she twiddled her thumbs.
A fist tightly clenched
forced her frail voice in stutter,
“He’d locked me up twice,”
she barely muttered.
“Speak up demon witch mother!”
cried one from the crowd.
“He’d locked me up twice,
chained to a pole like a dog!
No food or water!”
The judge made a note,
Then pushed up his spectacles,
‘Continue, dear child.”
“For days I would cry;
he would come in and beat me!
But when I broke free…
I had had enough -
My children had seen too much…”
She stared at the judge;
anger boiled her blood,
(the dart was cool in her hand)
The judge pulled a face:
like an angry wasp
The dart split the courtroom air;
it flew to its nest
(it stung like one, too)
and stuck to Smythe’s throat
just above the chest.
“Guilty!” they shouted,
(some were shocked and had passed out) -
Marie was long gone.
The Elf
Floor planks gigggle-screech,
omnipresent forest lurks -
my home in the tree.
Canopy nightlife;
candles dance with moths that err -
high up where I dwell.
Knock only three times,
fresh bread and hand-picked berries -
your tongue flickers red.
Lay your head to rest,
sweet cake honey dream drifter -
breakfast will be served.
Miracle sunrise,
sparkling clean dangling dew drops -
Sleepy Eye wakes up.
Coriander leaves,
roast bread and liver pate -
your side is bleeding.
The Disappearance of Jason McFarren
Hesitant fingers
hold the key to the attic;
a keychain rattles
clink-clink in the lock
(a rusty belly dancer);
the hinges scream out.
Prying eyes adjust -
midnight madness lies ahead -
where the moonlight hides
under rotten flesh,
covered in dusty red cloth
where she awaits him.
“Are you sleeping, dear?”
The only answer, a sob;
a snob sob sigh sneer.
“Will you ever wake?
You have been sleeping so long.”
The windows rattle,
and the door slams shut -
the candle out of his grasp -
orange flames lighten
a figure that climbs,
head first, from under the cloth;
crawls hand over hand.
Her voice reeks of hate,
“Too long have you kept me here!
You picked the wrong day!”
Dungeons & Dragons - RIP Gary Gygax
The rogue approaches;
ruby dragon's eye in hand -
the archer takes aim.
The merchant rubs palms,
gold pieces 'jingle-jangle'* -
lava rivers flow.
The wizard steps in,
black robes in tatters and rags,
"What is it you seek?"
"Wake up the dragon,
Virilix he calls himself -
the only way out."
The party huddles,
'take it or leave it', they say -
the alchemist smiles.
Zone of Truth potion;
a hexagonal bottle -
Dungeon Master sweats.
Darks elves in stone walls
(another trick up his sleeve)
Black Dragon shadows.
A roll of the dice:
Too high? Too low? You never know -
the game continues...
