Zylmor, Dromdrevc and life as it is

Writing - both fiction and non-fiction, really bad poetry, photos, paintings and stuff


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Jul 28, 2009

A Mythical Tale

1996 1

my hair is like a gorgon’s
it’s alive with snakes
reality is shifting away from my normality
my head is shrinking the snakes are
hissing in my ears
whipping past my eyes,
thrusting their tongues,
till even seeing is beyond my control
give it to me
soon the snakes will lash my nose
it will bleed
flow blood flow
more to come and then
I too will wither and die
writhing as one with snakes on my head
to gasp my last breath
the snakes won.

reality returns
my husband
my sons
my ones and onlys
each one unique, each one loved
the duet, then triangle, now square.
Is it conceivable to become a witch’s pentagon,
and with a pentagon of the witchy poo variety
isn’t anything possible

Breakdown, nervously approaching
cast a spell little one
cast it well
cast it into the sea we call life and
see if the sea will see the sea’s spell
a spell is nothing , a dream, a hope
a prayer to St Jude all useless
no one
nothing can change the inevitability in my impoverished life
the normality I call mine is not normal
it’s not fair , I cry a tear, a stream a river
I cry a entire ocean
but normal stays
and my first born will lose his sight
and what of him – his life will diminish
as day leaves into night as the light in his eyes fades

2008 2
Many years later, eleven to be precious
with ten months and two days for good luck
sight gone personality reigns forth
he is a figure of admiration
of inspiration and heart feeling good
running through town long cane at hand
thrusting through crowds with a sweep of white
red and gold Mohican blazing his independence
dare to offer him help and have your hand bitten

And myself, depression gone, poverty banished
battling some old wagon wars still part of my scene
jealousies of ordinary disappear proud of what he is
the triangle we always had, became the square and then
finally a pentagon, a pentacle, could a girl child be born
never, fate intervened only one bitch will rule this roost
democracy hypocrisy, materocracy
it’s direction that’s needed
a stern hand
a hard voice
a domineering female is known

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