fantasy

Voices

Voices

By jfarrell

 

 

My first can of beer, or glass of wine,

Speaks to me;

She cries of how lonely she is, “Please don’t leave me all alone,”

And who could refuse such a damsel in distress;

So, with all the dignity of a Knight, preparing for battle,

I bravely open another.

:-)

 

The second can sings to me a sad song,

Full of failures and weaknesses, my failures and weaknesses,

And like George before the dragon I am driven to my knees.

I thrust, I parry, but this dragon is too much.

Then I hear my Siren; she sings to me from the third can,

The Popeye theme tune

:-)

 

And I know what I must do!

Like a can of spinach, I crush the can and catch the geyser;

With each caress of the beer, my clothes rip,

As my muscles grow

And Sir Drunkalot is to the rescue.

:-)

 

The answers may not be at the bottom of the glass….

But I have a hell of a lotta fun checking;

And I love my Sirens, their singing is so beautiful;

Drown, I will, willingly, again and again,

To chase my Sirens to the bottom of the glass.

:-)

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

;-)

you all hear the voices too, don;t ya? :)

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national poetry day

 

 National Poetry Day

By jfarrell

 

 

 

KEEP RUNNING!

The stinking tendrils of ancient decayed flesh envelope you,

Engulf you in a nicotined-coloured fog;

Your devil has arrived, demanding payment.

              - horror

 

The moment I saw her face;

It was like a thousand rainbows shone;

All the stars of the heavens bursting into life again

My heart was hers. I would die for her.

                    -romance

 

There was a miserable sod, wrought from Bermondsey;

Dark clouds, thunder; all his life followed he;

But, when to ‘Wales’ he went,

A promised holiday was the event;

A ‘pain in the bum’ was all he received.

                -limerick

 

My madness has made me a god,

Or, maybe, I’m just a conceited sod.

                   - couplet

 

In the shadows, I watch and I learn;

The deep longing within me burns;

To love one, such as you;

And I know my love would be true.

                -rhyming

 

Why poems?

I offer five reasons, five themes, five experiences;

Today is National Poetry Day.

Thank you for coming. Please enjoy your stay :-)

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

happy national poetry day :)

It

It

By jfarrell

 

(stephen King’s ‘IT’ - one of the best books ever written)

 

It doesn’t go bump in the night, and you know it;

And you know it isn’t under your bed or in the closet;

 

You can smell it’s foulness right behind you;

You feel it’s breath on the back of your neck

 

The hand slides over your shoulder, like a caress;

Then grips you, like a vice

 

You stumble to your knees, in terror

And see the darkest shadow tower over and engulf you

 

Caught; no escape

“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.”

 

 

 

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Welcome to the Dark

Welcome to the Dark

By jfarrell

 

Roll up! Roll up!

Right here;

Is this seat comfortable enough?

Please keep your arms, legs and head in the car.

Are you ready? …. twinkling, charming, innocent smile

…... (whispered) Let’s go!

 

….(with a hushed, suppressed excitement)

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me thank you for choosing Jim’s Tours,

My name is Jim and I am your tour guide tonight.

But, enough about me, you’re here for Dark;

Hope you’re not screamish :)

 

On your left, police tape, long dead baby in the attic;

Look right, rapist uncle, lying dead with his throat cut;

Left, just under the bridge, a terrible ghost

This is where my mum should be hanging;

But she’s not dead. Yet.

 

…..tour guide collapses, but quickly staggers up, uncertain;

Oh my; wot horror; right next door;

His neighbours, 8 christian souls, innocent and pure;

All with their throats cut and drowned in petrol;

But, not burnt. Yet.

 

Please DON’T be sick in the car; over the edge please;

Are you sure you want to see THE bedsit? Where it happened?

No, you’re not a sicko - you’re here for the…

Waking middle of the night with a lit cigarette

So close to your eye it stings with the heat.

 

It’s your turn tonight, in the children’s home, with this wacko;

He’s bored; so, tonight, it’s your turn to burn, again and again;

Arms; legs; chest;

Tell who? My keyworker who is trying to groom me for abuse?

The pornography he’s giving me, suggests he wants more then ‘friends’.

 

Or, the park behind the library, that summer;

That one day, school holiday;

Playing hide and seek with friends

And seeing what happened to that poor woman.

The punches. The kicking.

 

…. tour guide takes out walkie talkie;

It’s Jim, get the wake up and cleaning crew again, please

This place stinks of sick

And my tourists have passed out;

Again.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'll see you on the dark side of the moon

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Small God

Small God

   By jfarrell

 

- Terry Pratchett was a genius, and his Discworld will be sorely missed -

 

What makes a god?

Belief.

My cat believes in me to feed him; and her, and the others;

Wow, not where I was expecting this to go;

Four cats believe In me;

I am god.

Their god, anyway.

 

And, you wouldn’t believe how much cleaning God has to do.

I wish I could afford a cleaner.

 

I write things you like;

“yeah! Totally agree! Spread this message!”

I write things you don’t;

“stop writing you judgemental little pri*k”;

 

 

As a god, I just grew a little bigger, a little larger,

A little more god-size

Well, my ego did anyway;

 

Please, before you claim me the messiah,

And tie me up on that cross;

Know this…

 

I will press the button;

Just to see the world burn.

As long as you understand that..

 

YES, I WILL BE YOUR GOD,

IF YOU ASK

IF ENOUGH BELIEVE

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'm not the messiah, i just have a very big spoon and know how to stir :)

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Dragon’s Scales

Dragon’s Scales

   By jfarrell

 

Yeah, my honey-boy,

Take the sweets, take the comics;

Cut my rapist’s throat.

 

I’m glad you ain’t my kid,

I’d be ashamed of you, you little poof;

Cut my dad’s throat.

 

Jo…Jo…Joey Deacon..

Stuttering fuck, shut up!

Cut all their fucking throats.

 

Why should I make a nice dragon?

For all the ‘nice’ I am, 20% works

The rest is just folks taking me for a fool.

 

I want my dragon stronger, more beautiful, than I;

Hate and scum is all this world wants;

Thus my dragon will be built with what it wants.

 

All the hate I have, the anger;

The bitterness; darkness; cruelty;

My dragon has very, very black scales.

 

:-)

 

And, sorry for the swearing, I don’t mean to be a potty-mouth, but felt it was warranted.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

why should my draagon be a good guy or girl?

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Dragon’s Release

Dragon’s Release

   By jfarrell

 

Yes, I understand now.

I can’t visually describe my dragon…

And what kinda dragon’s that?

I’m, scared to.

 

(Sting - “be yourself, no matter what they say”)

 

Be myself..

Today, I could, quite happily, cut my dad’s throat,

And piss over his grave;

Same for my mother;

And, describing, visualising, this darkness,

Is a good thing?

 

Yes!

Whether you hurt me a long time ago;

Or whether you were my scumbag neihgbours,

Yesterday, praising god all day, in your arrogance,

Pissing me off, giving me no choice..

 

My dragon looks like hate, my hate;

And it aint about skin colour, or your politics;

It’s about how you make me feel!

I have no voice? What I feel doesn’t matter?

Fuck you!

 

Release this shit!

Sorry for the swearing, but it felt needed;

So sorry :)

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

gotta let it free

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Watching you

Watching you

By Jfarrell

 

 

I love how you wrinkle your nose like that,

When something gets your attention;

Yes, you, look up from your keyboard.

:-)

Yep, right there, you see me?

Silly question, you can’t see me…

The small blue light…

Just look up…

Just beside your webcam…

Yay :-) you found me,

Hi

 

Don’t panic (I see how your chest rises and falls with fear);

I’m not the creepy greasy-haired guy, who lives opposite;

(He’s quite a nice dude, by the way, helps old ladies across the road);

He can’t help it if he sees you… then his jaw drops and he just stares…

You are stunning…

But…

If you see me looking…

I’m not slack-jawed and mesmerised;

I look; I visualize…. in lurid, sweat and blood-soaked detail;

You can see the dark, calculating hunger in my eyes

 

That’s why I watch you from here

Through your webcam… your phone…

I am one of the million different faces who sit in the darkness…

Paid to watch you…

Recommended to watch you..

Excited by watching you…

All you do… in detail…

In digital technicolour.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'm not, really.

you can trust me, i'm a serial killer :)

Birth

Birth

                          By JFarrell

 

The lightening strikes;

My skin prickles with its intensity;

My breath catches

And though I hear the first undulating rumblings,

It’s only when I feel the thunder’s vibrations beneath my feet,

That my clenched chest is released and I can breath again.

 

Outside, the rain lashes my windows like pebbles;

The wind howls its sorrow, its fear;

But in the darkness of my tower, I smile;

My whole body is tingling with the power and excitement;

  1. … 2… 1…

     

    I push the lever as the lightening turns my world to blind silver

    And the breath is sucked out of me;

    As the very atmosphere is awakened by the charge

    And is drawn, as if by the elements themselves,

    To the heart of the patchwork cadaver before me.

     

    I hold my breath in anticipation;

    Eyes wide with excitement, smiling like an idiot

    As the stampede of static-charged air centres on me

    And crashes in with an explosion of bass

    Forcing me to me knees.

     

    And,

    In the stillness of the storm;

    Between the lightening and the thunder;

    Between the rat-a-tat of the rain;

    I hear IT breathe.

                     :-)

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

thank you Victor F.