Blade and Poison, Hammer and Shield

The dark that makes me stagger has little to do with the night. You know this, and the shine of your knowing suns away chills threatening to lair in dying pieces of me I can’t banish… alone. Menace rotting its way through my flesh won’t be defeated without blade and poison, without well fed grins, without you understanding… me. You, my sword and hammer, my compass and shield… when the unknown threatens my breathing, when bad blood blinds my dreaming, I feel your eyes, hear your lips telling me, “I’ll always be here”, lessening the worst, fighting all fright… with you.

through thickest darkness,
the soul sees her truest loves
offering a hand

 

a wee note…
– frankensteined from 2 poem bits I published on Instagram. The senryū originally read “friends” instead of “loves”. Linking it to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

and here is some of the inspiration

my Piano Man and I spent last Sunday at Terrificon. After a week dedicated to pre-mastectomy arrangements, spending a whole day doing something I love doing, and doing it with someone I love doing… um, is awesome. And, of course, the bookish loot is nothing to frown at *wild giggles*

 

my beloved Mistress Emma, creatrix of Groovy Gothic yumminess, sent me a copy of Drawlloween 2017, by Mizna Wada. I’ve told myself that I will save it for some Halloween flash fictioning, but… that might be a laughable fib. I mean, really

 

a bit busy? I know, I know but… you see, the “Witchy Woman” copper bracelet and the skully earrings I received from Phillip, The Traveling Poet, look so happy hanging from my thorny bouquet that… I couldn’t get myself to remove them from their I’m-not-wearing-them-now-home to photograph them for you

 

Gina, my Daydream Believer (feeling a tad possessive *cough*) sent me an INK box. It’s full of bits for cleansing and banishing and growing and loving and dreaming and dancing and… I might show some of it to you one of these days, but not today

 

my Rhissanna (yep, possessive *not even coughing*) sent me a LOVE bunny. The bunny delivered several wee bags for me (and one for AlmaMia Cienfuegos, I can’t show you that one because the wild girl insists on blogging about it herself in the future… I don’t argue with girls who throw rocks so accurately) and a spoon

 

my sweetest and dearest Stacy, wild goddess of Magic Love Crow, surprised me with a notebook and a tote made extra majestic by her art. I have so much to say about these two gifts that… I will have to write another post to explain it all

 

this one doesn’t belong to me, but… I had to share it. I just wanted to avoid any future disappointment to anyone who might’ve been wishing to claim Batman’s crotch (or, perhaps, his tights), someone at Terrificon claimed it all *sigh*

 

thank you, Emma, Phillip, Gina, Rhissanna, Stacy… for the gifts… for the intent… for the love… I cherish all of it. I also wish to thank those of you who have reached out with soothing words, with understanding words, with a seemingly simple “I am here… thinking of you… hoping for you… making no demands… just letting you know that I’ll always be here” (your loving creepiness completes me). And you, my Wicked Luvs, who always stop by this blog or Instagram or Facebook… to read my life-fed-words, I hope I never fail to let you see that you keep my ink going while I trek through darkness that has little to do with the night. You rocketh very mucho

 

Sweet and Dark Pleasures Should Be Shared

Most flowers save their delights for Spring. Not my Montauk daisy. She enjoys blooming for Autumn. Either that, or she prefers to flourish whenever Nature’s skirts go from greens to golds to crimsons… towards the arms of Winter’s dark.

Last week, I wrote about screams that meant nothing and of lovers who know ink. There was pleasure and chocolate and poetry… on Instagram (I brought it here, in case you missed it—sweet and dark pleasures should be shared with all). 😉

Pleasure is dark
chocolate
and you,
whispering poetry
on my spine.

Speaking of sharing and of sweetness and of friends with spines…

Emma, mistress of Groovy Gothic, sent me a raven, a hammer, a blade, some dark words a red death. Yep, I’ve been grinning like the happiest of maniacs.

Stacy, from Magic Love Crow, blessed me with a murder of crows to stick with… I’ve stared at them for days, trying to figure out what surface deserves this beauty.

Then, when I thought my grin couldn’t get any bigger, Ms Misantropia presented me with a silver hammer that proved me completely wrong. My grin has grown to nearly violent proportions.

Emma, Stacy, and Katarina, you rocketh my October very mucho *wild giggles*. Thank you so much. I’ll treasure your gifts… always.

I’ve been doing wild things with words in them. What have you been up to?