Dragon Slayer

There’s a dragon on my doorstep,
He’s mating with my car.
If my Mercedes ends up pregnant,
He better not stray far.
I’ve got my shotgun loaded,
This dragon will propose.
I won’t have my grandchildren,
Grow up in a broken home.
I’ll blow that dragon’s wings off,
I’ll stake him to the ground!
By gosh, he’ll marry my Mercedes,
Or I swear I’ll hunt him down!
Why, that scaly rapscallion,
No sooner done than gone!
He’s flown away whilst I mused
Of grandchildren playing on the lawn!
The heartless brute,
The cad!
Abusing my Mercedes,
Oh, that makes me mad!
I’ll skin him for the leather,
I’ll flay him for the sport!
I’ll find his hidden cavern,
And demand child support!
But wait, what’s this?  Another?
Another dragon on my stoop?
My Mercedes is a hussy!
She’s played me for a dupe!
Yes, I see them now,
Making circles in the sky.
Dragons!  Dragons!  Dragons!
Just waiting for a try!
I’ll rip her slutty wheels off,
I’ll put her up on blocks!
I’ll cancel her insurance,
And park her at the docks!
I’ll replace her posh interior
With leopard printed Pleather!
I’ll put her into storage
And leave her there forever!
Argh!  Another dragon!
My Mercedes honks her horn!
I never would have thought
My car would be in porn.
Oh, what shall I do?
The neighbor’s are sure to see.
It’ll be all over the internet
By twenty-five to three.
I guess it’s up to me…

Local author George Sigmund, well known for his colorful children’s stories which blend old-fashioned fairy tales with modern and futuristic themes, was arrested today after blowing up a car in the parking lot of the downtown night club, The Dragon’s Den.  Mr. Sigmund reportedly threatened numerous club-goers with a shotgun while ranting about exploitation of innocent machinery by reptilian pimps…
In other news,  the porn world is grieving today over the death of legendary star, Mercedes Bends.  Her body was found late last night by a janitor cleaning the set of her latest film, “The Beast In Me.”  Authorities have stated it appears to be a suicide, though they have yet to rule out the possibility of foulplay.
 Meanwhile, feminist groups across the country are rallying behind a new, masked leader, one who has taken the Mercedes automobile symbol as her logo.  Though she has so far managed to remain anonymous, she referred to the tragic death of Ms. Bends in a speech given at a public rally earlier today, claiming, “This sad event vindicates my belief that women in the porn industry are more likely to die young…”
She went on to call for militant action against the draconic film-makers who prey on the low self-esteem of young women and make these sorts of tragedies possible…



Standing on the shaman’s crossing with one foot in the forest
My old self locked within, one more whisper in the chorus
Of dappled shade, soft loam and moss
Of tickling breeze, and kin we’ve lost
Of fallen trees along the road
A dead grey thing they force to grow
But a soldier’s duty must be done
War must be ended, once begun
The dancers and the pestilence
The comrades we have laid to rest
Because of them!
Because of us?
Who speaks the truth?
Who can I trust?
Standing on the fearsome thing that pierces the forest’s heart
My old self now ascendant, no idea where to start
The ancestors and the flowing sap
The blue-black berries and mushroom caps
The sword and whip and musket lead
Those who are dying, those who are dead
The growing grey or the shrinking green?
The fireflies or the kings and the queens?
The scholars and schools?
The songs a lost people sing?
My insincts?
Or my upbringing?

Inspired by Saturday Scribes and Robin Hobb’s Soldier Son trilogy.

A Curious Adventure

Through the ring of mushrooms
Past the isolated grove
We waited on a mossy log
Til into view it hove
Twas unnerving big, to say the least
Twas brilliantly strange
The thing on the horizon, resting
As the light began to change
When the sun slipped from the sky
To paint the monster’s flank
Like a mountain, pink and white
We tipped our skins and drank
The synergy of alcohol
Inside our sinners’ hearts
Soon infused us with a bravery
Beyond our meager parts
And we rose upon our staggered hooves
To climb that walking cliff
Old Woadkin proffered a pouch of pepper
Said, “‘ere, Guv’, ‘ave a sniff.”
It braced my nerves, it made me sneeze
The others had a laugh
And getting on about midnight, we
Had crested the creature’s calf
There upon its knee, we stood
Feeling half insane
When it cracked an eye and looked at us
With immense godlike disdain
So great, in fact, that Murkle jumped
And tumbled down its shin
And ran off through the darkling wood
To his crooked shanty and his gin
Well, I would not be daunted
And I left ol’ Woad behind
And as the big feller watched
I gracelessly onward climbed
I scaled thigh, I clambered hip
I traversed its rocky gut
I laddered up its ribs like rungs
I was exhausted, but
I clung to craggy collarbone
I shrugged onto its shoulders
I grappled my way up to its jaw
And over warts like boulders
And when I reached its cavernous ear
I tumbled deep inside
And I began to build my home
Inside the giant’s mind
It’s drafty, and there’s lots of dust
But I can promise you
There’s lots of room for memories
And you just can’t beat the view

Published in: on October 26, 2009 at 12:57 pm  Comments (1)  
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I walk the leaves
Of this jungle book
And my heart leaps
With every look
Beneath my feet
The stories pass
As pages turn
Like the hourglass
Time may change my shape
Time may change my hue
But I will try to make
My life fit to you
And as time goes by
Things will improve
And we will turn
A page or two
My heart is not fickle like the skin I’m in
Though I may change like the chameleon
I promise you my heart is true
And I will always be with you
I have to say, this card you’ve dealt
Trumps everything I’ve ever felt
Before or after
Tears or laughter
And I will always be with you

Published in: on October 20, 2009 at 9:50 pm  Leave a Comment  
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It begins with a leaf
Witnessed from below
Woolen clusters
New growth
Preparing another shape
Scramble of wings
Inside the case
The human scientist
Inspects the object
Adds to his list
A voyeur who brags of his find
To the butterfly which
Pays him no mind

Published in: on October 10, 2009 at 4:13 am  Leave a Comment  
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Haunting Me

In the darkness
A razor whip
Flays whisps of truth
From memory’s bones
Like slithering silk
Circling a wrist
An out-flung arm
A black
Where the patter
Of drainpipe voices
in the distance
An echoed tongue
My skin prickles
I lay in tangled sheets
Buried alive
In nightmare fear

a stream of consciousness poem inspired by www.saturdayscribes.wordpress.com and http://www.sundayscribblings.blogspot.com

on the boardwalk

on the boardwalk she strikes
flinty eyes to stony face and
sparks a feeble smile quickly
snuffed out in the chilly wind
nearby gulls like the rustling
crowd are circling as the sea
swallows one rose petal after
another until the only thing i
have left to discard is the soft
memory of her body pressed
against mine one final time in
this unexpected last goodbye

inspired by http://www.saturdayscribes.wordpress.com

Published in: on September 25, 2009 at 7:37 pm  Comments (3)  
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The Tragic Bakery

When the muffins were done
Secret societies
Of dark raisins
Plotted the assasination
Of the stray sunflower seed
From the other batch

A cranberry
Somewhat burnt
And mistaken for a raisin
Infiltrated the clandestine meetings
And brought the seed
News of this dire threat

Said the sunflower seed:
Your timely intervention
Has preserved my life
Run away with me!
For your brothers, the raisins
Are greatly enraged

I cannot, said the cranberry
I am burnt and crippled
I would only slow you down

Burnt?  But then…

Yes!  I am a cranberry!

Stay back!  I am allergic!
Cried the seed

But it was too late
The sunflower seed
Slowly choked and died
And the cranberry realized
(Too late!)
What the raisins had known
All along

Published in: on August 17, 2009 at 5:22 am  Comments (4)  
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