Dancing this Rotten World Better

“Genuine anger was one of the world’s great creative forces. But you had to learn how to control it. That didn’t mean you let it trickle away. It meant you dammed it, carefully, let it develop a working head, let it drown whole valleys of the mind and then, just when the whole structure was about to collapse, opened a tiny pipeline at the base and let the iron-hard stream of wrath power the turbines of revenge.” ~ Terry Pratchett 

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I will take the fiery
energy of my fury,
morph it into words
that sing into other souls’
flesh and bone…
and we will dance
this rotten world better.

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the wee notes…

– Revenge often gets a bad name. Perhaps, because the term tends to bring up images of anger, of wailing, of violence. But it doesn’t have to be like that. Revenge can be that magnificent mix of dismay and powerlessness, which shrouds the faces of individuals who believed (even hoped that) we would fall apart under the pressures of the world, but are forced to watch us weave horrors into wonders that add yumminess to our lives.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Read Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

“Burton Bar”, by Shelle Kennedy
(the look on Wednesday’s face gives me a serious case of the mad giggles)

Poe, Drusilla, Freud, Crows, a Few Ravens, and Five Ridiculous Haiku

I don’t always make haiku jokes. But when I do, Bashô wants to jump out of his grave… possibly into a pond. Are you giggling yet? Um… no? Tough crowd *cough*. Maybe you could grin with me for a bit? Why? Well, because a few days ago, my physical torturer said that I could get back to exercising. That makes me grin a lot… and grinning is contagious, my Wicked Luvs. Didn’t you know? Also, I received some yummy gifts from some even yummier friends (no, I didn’t eat them), and that, too, brings a smile to my face. Here is the booty, preceded by mildly hysterical haiku:

“Black!” shrieked the raven.
“Just like your mother,” slurred Freud,
tweaking, nevermore.
Poe, Drusilla, Freud, Crows, Ravens, and Haiku (1)

Wee crows soothe the witch,
and man keeps out of her way—
no frogs jump in pond.
Poe, Drusilla, Freud, Crows, Ravens, and Haiku (2)

Dead daisies and keys—
not to open your heart, that
Dru does with her teeth.
Poe, Drusilla, Freud, Crows, Ravens, and Haiku (3)

Headless in the woods,
Marie Antoinette Addams
plots bloody murder.
Poe, Drusilla, Freud, Crows, Ravens, and Haiku (4)

Above autumn leaves,
wee Drusilla’s grin suggests—
tonight, one will bleed.
Poe, Drusilla, Freud, Crows, Ravens, and Haiku (5)

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I’ve already thanked everyone for their gifts. But I want to send a second giant, “Thank you!” to Stacy and Emma. That way, I get to remind you that Magic Love Crow (Stacy) and Little Gothic Horrors (Emma) make wonderful art that brings all kinds of bright to the heart. Fly by their cyber-homes and let their muses put huge grins on your face. 😉

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Wee (just in case) Notes:
– Sigmund Freud had a cocaine problem.
– “An Old Pond” (frog poem), by Matsuo Bashô
Drusilla Amarantha Tepes, the Only… has been known to bite. Her tales are listed on my Stories page, under “Camp Cute, Creepy (and quite conveniently) Remote”.
– Wednesday named her doll after Marie Antoinette, condemned to death by guillotine.
* “Wednesday” print (a gift from Emma) is the work of Michele Lynch.