When The Curtain Drops


My Father came to visit me last night, normally this wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary, except for the fact that he has been dead for nearly twenty years. He grabbed me by the hand and lead me to a party, some face I recognized, friends and family who had recently passed on. ‘

“This, Baby Girl is the Cast Party. We all come here to unwind when the show is over, ” he said before offering me a refreshment.

I noticed a few people being taken out in handcuffs. This alarmed me, naturally I questioned my father about it.

” Well, I’ll tell you baby Girl, The Director felt they gave an awful performance, so they are being cast out. He just doesn’t see any hope for them.”

Looking around I didn’t see my Ma , by brother or my mother. I became nervous. What had become of them? Again I put my concerns forth to my father.

Sometimes The Director sees potential in people and decides to give them a repeat performance, to allow them to hone their craft. Your mother and brother are among those people they sent back to give an encore.

People like Me and Ma , the more experienced ones get to enjoy fruits of our labour. Ma is up there no in the Penthouse waiting for me.

 

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Living In A Fatherless Land


I am a Motherless Child

Living in a Fatherless Land

There are many of us

Dying in the cold streets

Starving in the night

Nameless Faces to you

Identities with no Identity

You can’t even look me in the eye

My blood runs in rivers

Down your civilized avenues

As if My life never mattered at all

Blood Rhapsody


BloodRhapsodyredpianodressShe was regal perched at the piano

Playing his favourite serenade

One glass became two bottles

He sat gazing at her bare shoulders

The striking of her fingers once soothing

Now a maniacal reckoning in his mind

He pictured his brothers lips upon her nakedness

An ire rose up in him that the wine could not contain

A piano wire he deftly pulled from his valise

Precision was the key struck by her fragile fingers

Her life force tickling the ebony and ivory in one last

Blood Rhapsody of insatiable lust and jealousy

 

The Death Howl


Chilled to the bone

You listen with morose suspense

Tension building with your soul

The rasp, rattle and hum

The misery that hangs in the air

Closing your eyes briefly

Memories of days gone by

A lifetime of love and pain

Flickers like a slideshow in dreams

Profound and Shrill it startles you

It will linger in your ears forever

The last gasps of FadingAwayThe Death Howl

The Life From Her Rose


Tormented and bewildered

I lived a life of shame

Guilt ridden angst

Longing for her love

Always just out of reach

I found her journals

She too carried a cross

Her eldest daughter

Raised as her sister

Fear and shame

Choked the love

She had for me

Like a weed wrapped

Around a beautiful Rose

Mommie, I am sorry

They made you feel

Less than a Mother

Our time together was

Cut short by a weed

Called Cancer that wrapped

Itself around you choking

The Life from your Rose

 

Dedicated to My Beautiful Mother, Nancie, On Her Birthday…A Lover of Roses…xxlarge_soft_pink_rose

 

 

Love that Defies Death-Janie Cartier


 

 

Elizabeth could feel something was amiss that night she sent her beloved Patrick into town for supplies. The storekeeper was holding the package of essentials for her until Patrick made his way there to pick them up. Elizabeth lived a few miles outside of town in the country, on a dark country road. Patrick was her hired hand, at least that’s how it appeared to the outside world.

 

Sitting by her fire now, Elizabeth reminisced just how Patrick came into her life.  She had just inherited the farm from her father and had been staying there for a few months, and was actually thinking of selling, when a muscular man with dark curly locks, and the greenest eyes she had ever seen, knocked on her door.

 

“Afternoon, Miss”, he started, ” My name is Patrick O’ Shea, and I thought you might be able to use a hand on this farm.”

 

“I have to admit, I could use some help working the farm, and fixing things, I”m afraid the pay wouldn’t be much.” Elizabeth answered.

 

“Miss, all I ask is Room and Board, ” he added with a smile. A smile that melted her heart.

 

Patrick would go about the business of fixing up the old farm house, and tending to what few crops Elizabeth decided to plant, while Elizabeth concentrated on her writing. Eventually Patrick began tending to other needs as well, and accepted Elizabeth as his Mistress.

 

Elizabeth and Patrick had a fiery passion between them.  Although he never once touched her without permission, he was an electrifying lover, following her every command, succumbing to all her wanton lustful desires, willing to do anything to make her happy.

 

After one night of heated lovemaking, Patrick declared his love and devotion for her. ” Mistress Elizabeth, I love you, adore you. You own my very soul, not even the bonds of death could keep me from you.”

 

Right now Elizabeth had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Patrick should have been home hours ago. He was so devoted, it never occurred to her that perhaps he was in a pub with another woman. Suddenly that thought did pass across her mind, and she thought that she would give him a good flogging to set him straight for making her worry.

 

Elizabeth was startled at the pounding at the door. This couldn’t be Patrick, surely he would just enter.

 

Elizabeth opened the door slowly. Standing there were three men holding the lifeless body of her beloved Patrick!

 

“Miss, we found him down the road apiece. It appears he was thrown from the horse and struck his head on a rock. We know he was your man servant. Shall we bury him in the back for you? ”

 

Elizabeth stood there in a state of shock and disbelief. Patrick was so much more than a man servant.

 

“Yes, please. That is very kind of you. Could you place him by the cherry tree? He would often sit there and have his lunch.” Elizabeth managed to answer.

 

Later that night, Elizabeth lay in her bed crying for Patrick. She loved him, and needed him just as much as he needed her, perhaps more so.  She rose from her bed, and looked out her window to the cherry tree where he had been buried. The ground was torn asunder, and scattered everywhere. Chills ran up and down her spine as she recalled what he said to her , not even the bonds of death could keep him from her.

 

A door slammed downstairs. She heard water running. Could it be Patrick back from the dead?

 

Familiar footsteps crept up the stairs.

 

Elizabeth’s heart raced.

 

Her bedroom door burst open, and there he stood, smiling at her.

 

“Mistress, the next time you bury someone, make sure they are dead first, ” Patrick said before grabbing Elizabeth and throwing her to the bed.

 

All Hallows Eve


All Hallows Eve

The Spirits Dance Macbre

I hold you close one last time

They Dance around your bed

The Ferryman has come to collect

To Carry you across the river

Selfishly I cling to hopeless hope

One last kiss from your prince

Sets you free from listless Sheol

Enjoy your Sweet Release this Hallows Eve

Dance the Dance of the Free My Mother

You are no longer bound by chains of despair and pain