11. The Pig’s Tail
Short and curly cute and cuddly
Oh piggy oh piggy
Must you also taste so good
I Hear You (Hour 12)
I HEAR YOU
Don’t speak, precious one.
I hear your cry a thousand miles away,
the silent tears strangling your throat, burning your eyes.
Come, young or old, and lay your head in my arms.
My lips against your cheek, as I have so often done in the past.
I’ll hum a lullaby of sleep, my arms protecting you,
and comfort will embrace you.
I’ll ease your sorrows with love as Yahweh would want.
I may not be seen, but I see you.
I may not be heard, but I hear you.
And I will slay the demons haunting you.
— Saskia Lynge / Hour 12
Hour 15: The Fairies’ Origin Story
The Fairies’ Origin Story
God created Lucifer to be an angel bright
To stand at his right hand and serve him day and night
But Lucifer sought power; glory, worship, fame
To be a god himself was this fiend’s only aim
He gathered angels to himself to worship him alone
And, for a time, it worked; seeds of dissent were sown
But God called on Michael, Archangel of renown
To battle Lucifer and bring the scoundrel down
They fought for seven days and seven undying nights
But Michael, he was able to put things all to rights
He dragged Lucifer to the gates and threw him out the door
And Lucifer was never seen in heaven anymore
But Michael, he neglected to shut and bolt the gate
By the time he noticed his mistake, for some it was too late
For the angels turned by Lucifer, began to follow him
Angels by the thousands, even tiny cherubim
Tumbled through the pearly gates, to earth were falling fast
Michael had to shut the gates before all were lost at last
And when the big gates clanged the echoes did resound
All angels falling were halted midflight on their way down
They could not return to heaven, for God they had rejected
Had followed evil Lucifer and heaven had defected
So each stayed where each had ended up on his descent to hell
In the sky or on the earth, or under it to dwell
Those beneath the surface became the goblins and trolls
And elves and gnomes and brownies were in forests and on knolls
Dryads were the ones in trees, Naiads in the pools
Mermaids were beneath the waves, in oceans dark and cool
And in the air, both here and there, flitted spirits bright
The nixies and the pixies, the fairies in their flight
Thus the world was filled with the entire wee folk kingdom
And now you know, my darling child, from whence the fairies come
Siren song
one flick
with one tail
whisp of white
whipping past
battering the bow
drowning a dream
that drove him
for decades
prompt 16
The Doctor
I have done this for a million years
And have seen you live
I have watched a planet die
And another born.
I have loved a woman in reverse
Our timelines running to the other ends
And through it all,
I am here.
Trust me, I am The Doctor
And trust me you must
If you refuse, my stories are meaningless
For a leap of faith
A decree of absolutism
A requiem on imperatives –
Moral or otherwise.
How do you see me, I wonder?
Always trying to slow down,
To not speed ahead of you.
To explain things
Without giving away
Event changing secrets
To fixed points in time.
Now I am the 13
Lucky for some
Closed minded be damned.
For they are unlike the TARDIS
They are even smaller than they appear to be.
Mostly they cannot see
Although I help them nonetheless
I do
I can
I am the Doctor.
10. Colours of the Rainbow
Red – blood fresh out of a cut finger
Orange – juice oozing out of a fruit
Yellow – rays from the sun glaring down
Green – stains from freshly cut grass
Blue – as above so it is below
Indigo – the special child from the mother’s womb
Violet – all is not lost when we have you
Together the colours of the rainbow make me blue
Poem no. 13 Embrace the Chaos
I reach across the table towards the cup and saucer;
prepare to nudge it gently off the edge.
I brace myself for impact (and the sound of a resounding smash)
but nothing happens.
Now I pause within the unaccustomed silence – look around me.
And in this final moment before the great freeze begins, I understand.
Our universe has finally reached its equilibrium.
There is no entropy – no random motion.
My crockery can no longer fall.
Prompt #12 100 words and less
in a 100words and less
I could tell a story
that contained grit
but more gory
how swords were pulled
skulls were culled
in rhyming fashion
an industry was dulled
overhauling the corporation
wasnt a good idea
it led to much grouse
it broke many a house
why this sudden innovation
to invent and renovate
when products are refurbished
do old ones get a new phase
employee and employer
count none on each other
they look over each other’s shoulder
for the one ready to burst in
plotting a back-breaking
fall mid-riff
that hurts one and all
pink-slip or purple-dopple
Hour Ten: My Favorite Color, Midnight Blue
Often times,
when I lie on my bed at night,
I imagine what my ideal room would be like.
The first thought that comes to mind
is what color the walls would be.
For me, there’s only one solid answer-
midnight blue.
The best part is that
midnight blue is the color of the sky at night,
so that whenever I would lie on my bed,
it’d feel like I’m outside looking up the stars.
I could have that majestic feeling
wash over all the time
with the color midnight blue
all over my walls.
That feeling that all my dreams could come true,
and that, by far, is the best feeling to have.
Coming back to reality,
I look wistfully at the purple walls of bedroom.
Purple is probably my third or fourth favorite color,
but it’s not the best color for a room.
Instead, midnight blue is and always will be that color for me.
Sylvia’s Words
Her many poems
determination,
she may be well known
for her suicide,
But this hardly
describes Sylvia Plath
a genius in angst;
who always pushed hard
with written words
striving for perfect,
but never at peace.