This is my contribution to Write Me a Birthday Dirge – Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month, 2016 (Day 2 of 13). Yes, a birthday dirge… because dead Vikings shouldn’t have all the fun.
“Who Needs a Skull to Party Hard?”
Clad all gloom and inhibition
in moon dark and sunny mirth,
and join my living and my dead
in this remembrance of my birth.
Part of Gina Morley broomed in late
(She lost her head in Emerald Isle);
but who needs a skull to party hard,
when one has cackles and witchy style?
There will be a feast of mango, caramel
and cake (prepared by my little brother),
all friends craving brains or raw meat
are quite welcome to have each other.
Post-feasting, we shall stroll to the woods—
change not your shoes, we aren’t going far!
I just want to end my birth-jam naturally,
with howling and dancing in a graveyard.
And there’s no need for extravagant gifts,
(no hammers or axes) don’t you splurge.
All I want on my thirty-ninth spring
is a dark and delicious birthday dirge.
Process Note: this is my first birthday dirge. And I laughed so hard while crafting it, that I suspect I will write myself a few more as the Wheel of the Year turns and turns and turns… I wanted to point out that no friend was decapitated during the birthing of this dirge… yet. 😉
link to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Tuesday Platform
“Secret Garden”, by Shelle Kennedy
(this is Shelle’s entry for Day 1… and, mayhap, the happiest-looking skull I’ve ever seen)