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    Aditus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Never Cry Wolf - 4. Days 22 to 30

XXII.

You just go on and slap your knee,

Yes, I know the joke’s on me.

I just could not help myself,

Now your eyes gleam with glee.

Rub it in all you want:

I barked up the wrong tree.

Yep, you told me long ago,

Even bought the fucking tee,

Borrowed words from old man Bill,

“I told thee.”

 

 

XXIII.

The bodies seeking out their own spotlight,

Ice cubes fly, expertly caught in a glass,

Just flip the bottles; it’s a damn hot night,

flex your arms, show your smile, and shake your ass.

A fruity cocktail, whiskey neat, just beer,

Only mix it, pour it, tap it with flair,

bad jokes, lame come ons, slurs or drunken cheer,

wink, spin the shaker up into the air.

Joy, sadness, right or wrong, damnation, sin,

he always listens, though he heard it all,

nobody can resist his perfect grin,

and people happily go home: last call.

But who waits for him, just an empty room,

But who cares for him, drives away the gloom.

 

XXIV.

The cat lifts its paw

And the bee never stands a

chance, that sting must hurt.

 

XXV.

Within these walls a spirit dwells,

Subdued, confined, utterly lost,

Accustomed well to seven hells

existence in soul eating frost,

oblivion bought at a great cost.

It has forgotten what means ‘free’.

I’m watching though, my fingers crossed,

Where I am standing, I can see.

 

And unsurmountable brick stone,

dark grey, is blocking any view,

and all that’s left is skin and bone

and hopelessness is all it knew

as never will the sky be blue.

It has abandoned ‘you and me’.

I’m waiting though, ‘cause we are two,

Where I am standing, I can see.

 

One day a black bird drops a seed,

It rolls into a tiny crack,

The experts call it jewel weed,

I watch its roots sink into black

After a week it’s still on track

Widens the crack, the spirit free

It walks away, not looking back

Where I am standing, I can see.

 

It was my fault they captured you

Away you go, away from me,

The wall between us grows anew,

Where I am standing, I can see.

 

XXVI.

She forgot,

Keeps forgetting,

Will forget

More and more

Nothing left

Trapped

in her own head.

Despair.

Surrender.

Gone.

 

XXVII.

Red, fat, juicy, shiny, and delicious

I picked some strawberries today.

Aromatic, tasty and nutritious,

I bake a cake, or maybe just sorbet.

Bold, daring, aspiring, and ambitious,

Do you want tarts, jam, biscuits, or beignet?

I make for you what you like best,

Because you are my favorite guest.

 

XXVIII.

And then there are moments

Where you stand on the brink

Not knowing if you’ll fall or fly

When you jump.

Your heart thumps

In your throat

And with your eyes closed

You wait

Too long

Until the slightest gust of wind

Takes the decision away from you.

 

Never do that again.

 

XIX.

Hiding behind a ready smile

is what you do all the time.

Seeing through your transparent guile

Will be my cue.

Finding you

 

 

XXX.

Valkyrie, Aditus, Mikiesboy and Puppilull proudly present VAMP's first poem:

 

The bright lights flashing
Obscure the closeness we seek
And leave us blinded


So many words unspoken
Our love in pieces—broken


Words ever whispered
in the dark are seared deeply
into memory.


Haunting echoes of past crimes,

memories of happy times.

 

Can we open eyes

Gone blind with past transgressions,

Reforming the whole?

 

Focusing on what we shared

See each other with souls bared.

 

Please let's try again

Our love is worth fighting for—

Two souls meant to be

 

Merging those halves of a whole

And twining our shattered soul

Copyright © 2016 aditus; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

XXII Oh, how I hate being the subject of "I told you so!" But I smiled at to, couldn't help it, especially at barking up the wrong tree...
XXIII. This sonnet perfectly conjures up the disparity of flash and dash versus the emptiness that can come afterwards. Is it the speaker who cares for him? I thought about that.
XXIV. Never saw a cat go after a bee. What a sight that must have been!
XXV The hopelessness and hurt radiate from every line in this. The words color it grey, and though the jewel weed is there, the hurt seems to overcome it. I ached with this.
XXVI. Again, more destruction of the soul, the self. In just a few words, you paint a searing portrait of dementia.
XXVII Your words make me feel welcome and ready to feast!
XXVIII. I absolutely love the way you begin this poem. It makes me feel as if I am interrupting the story, or catching up with it in progress. I have been at there...hesitating for too many moments, unable to catch myself or fall.
XXIX. How well you show us that you can see through our masks.
XXX. I loved the idea of the Renga, and regretted not being able to take part. But VAMP did a superb job and turned out a passionate plea for redemption and life.

On 05/01/2016 12:54 AM, Parker Owens said:

XXII Oh, how I hate being the subject of "I told you so!" But I smiled at to, couldn't help it, especially at barking up the wrong tree...

XXIII. This sonnet perfectly conjures up the disparity of flash and dash versus the emptiness that can come afterwards. Is it the speaker who cares for him? I thought about that.

XXIV. Never saw a cat go after a bee. What a sight that must have been!

XXV The hopelessness and hurt radiate from every line in this. The words color it grey, and though the jewel weed is there, the hurt seems to overcome it. I ached with this.

XXVI. Again, more destruction of the soul, the self. In just a few words, you paint a searing portrait of dementia.

XXVII Your words make me feel welcome and ready to feast!

XXVIII. I absolutely love the way you begin this poem. It makes me feel as if I am interrupting the story, or catching up with it in progress. I have been at there...hesitating for too many moments, unable to catch myself or fall.

XXIX. How well you show us that you can see through our masks.

XXX. I loved the idea of the Renga, and regretted not being able to take part. But VAMP did a superb job and turned out a passionate plea for redemption and life.

Again you commented on every single poem! I love reading your thoughts! My cat is fearless (or stupid)...

XXVIII is one of my favorite, I am happy I could find the right word for this unspeakable situation.

Thank you so much, Parker!

On 05/01/2016 11:46 AM, Valkyrie said:

Such a powerful group of poems, Addy. 25 and 26 brought tears to my eyes. 27 was just plain sweet. Great idea to color code the VAMP poem. Thanks for suggesting it. It was a lot of fun. Congrats on completing the month. It was nice to have so many people participating this year. :hug:

We did it! Thanks, Val, for reminding me of NaPoWriMo!

I've been in a weird mood last week, I'm glad the poems worked for you.

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