Monthly Archives: September 2016

“Young Osric”

I run off stage in character keep

running to the Tiring House

tearing off the wig from

God knows whose head

rough hands helping me

strip my dress and bodices as I

sweat out the woman I was as

tears and rough usage

fumbling with different buttons as the

Clowns fumble with skulls

laughter and dread silence my

cue to be Young Osric

baited as a chough a

water-fly and fated to

hold a dying Queen’s head amidst

all that blood

an empty purse on a

vast stage but at least and

finally I can be a boy

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Cannibalism

Poetry is bones, the flesh

chewed to the gristle, leaving

just enough to recognise a

human being.

 

But you won’t stay a

quiet skeleton in the corner,

keep growing more flesh for me

to gnaw on.

Craquelure

Perfect from a distance,

up close your face wears

faint lines of age which

others seek to mask with

expensive unguents or

cheap powder, but of which you are

proud, knowing a stylus

dropped into any groove would

replay a fine memory

perfectly.

Sex Matters ~ by May More

Don't Lose it or Confuse it

N A L I N D A

P H O T O G

Apollonia Saintclair

Ink is my Blood

CHARLESVAS

Alla ricerca della scatola magica...

Diana Marin

Fine Art Photography, Poetry, Multimedia art, & Editorials

Rusted Honey

Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry

Turning the Lights Off

Random musings inside my head no matter how hard I try to shut the damn lights off

Southern Georgia Bunny

Adventures of an Southern Bunny everything from dating, sex, life and shake your head moments.

Secret Dates Diary

Diary from a hotwife's perspective

Lessons in Kate

What can I teach you?

Human Pages

The Best of History, Literature, Art & Religion