Friday, 7 April 2017

Dreaming of New Orleans, Vampires and Other Ghosts




I used to walk
down dark streets
where vampire ghosts
would congregate

just out of of sight
a step or two
away from murky
yellow street lamps

Their presence would leave
a kind of rich, dark
perfume in the air

My heart would beat
just a little bit faster
as I walked by
fingers crossed
against disaster

Until I looked up
into your dark eyes
slowly watching you
slowly watch me

Your spell was always
so much greater
than the rich, dark perfume
of congregating vampire ghosts

You're gone now

But some nights
a yellow street lamp
will make my breath catch
my eyes close

and I can feel your hand
on my throat
Your breath
in my ear

The prelude
to my destruction

Those hellish, fiery,
passionate
divine moments
before my resurrection

I was remembering living in the French Quarter. I used to work the late shift at a book store. My shift ended at midnight. I would walk down Decatur to Esplanade where my boyfriend managed a bar called "Checkpoint Charlie's." A snifter of Gran Marnier was always waiting for me. More than once I thought I sensed a dark, seductive, alien presence. I've been back there so many times since then. I think he's still waiting for me.





Thursday, 6 April 2017

I Was Trying To Remember When You Stopped Being You

It suddenly
dawned on me
the lies
and exaggerations,
the petty jealousies
you attribute to me
aren't worth the hurt
they cause
because
you aren't you,
not anymore.

The fact
that words
like *sex kittens*
and *acolytes*
aren't words
I've ever used
or would ever
even think
of using
doesn't seem
to matter.

(Except the word
*acolyte* does remind me
of a Fantasy Series
by Trudi Canavan
I once fell in love with.)

God knows
you can be
charming,
but I'm afraid
I can't
quite imagine
you with a room
full of acolytes
hanging
on your
every word,
but someone
must think
it possible,
because you
wrote the words
and you would
never write
anything
that wasn't true.

That I haven't
thought about
your c**k
or your head
and whether
they're just fine,
or not
doesn't matter.

Unnamed groups
of followers
that in my
paranoid delusions
I think are
actually attacking me
doesn't matter.

The fact that you
haven't moved on
from what you desired
from what you ended
doesn't matter.

Because you're not you.

And the girl you attribute
all those actions to
is definitely not me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

retaliation

Retaliation is an act of revenge. Before you initiate retaliation on someone who has wronged you, consider whether he or she might have a ninja alter ego and a set of nunchucks stashed away.


The noun retaliation stems from the Latin retaliare, meaning “pay back in kind.” Notice the word kind in that definition. Retaliation used to have both good and evil connotations. Now, though, it’s important to read that kind as synonymous with type or sort because retaliation has since lost its positive sense. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.”


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