each thought themselves different, exceptions

really. or like spelling it out makes it okay; you know

when a splash of red, a slap on the cheek

is played out slowly. a hint of pink, a touch on the arms

like friendliness, comfort – i trust you that seems to

imply a lot of things not yet earned;

advancing slowly, a prey smells the scent

tries to back away without alarming a predator so much

stronger!

don’t want to piss it off,

don’t want to be cornered,

don’t want to make waves

as the merciless crowds hold no love, only juicy

bits of tendon, scraps, splintered

bones – they too come

for a feast. of delight the mind,

to excite their very boring banal day;

they come as inquiring folks – you okay?

sounds like a cynic a voice got thrown

into the mix of all the confusion

when thunder roared in the sky, roar, roar,

the angry gods unleased

wrath upon silver linings, rainbows to

a world unworthy of promises and good luck.

what’s your problem? another voice

gets thrown into the chaos – tyrannical immortals

don’t deserve worship, protest, protest!

voices become subdues

when lightning ignites the playing field,

and shy maidens are left

in strange woods festering with

shiny eyes, a pattering of hooves

and the pigs they rush in.

snort, snort,

ew get away from me! but pigs

know no sense of propriety, argh, argh –

they don’t see eye to eye. ewwww.

disgusting pigs

continue to snort,

a heat wave – and roasted pigs

come about, cunning maidens,

pick at bones, meat, sinews

carving leather into coats, decorations, ornaments

that would fetch a high price in the

night market.

a pig goes oink,

get slaughtered too – hey,

it’s a free, free world … … don’t judge, hardened

maiden feast on innocent, guilty

alike,

no difference in flavors of meat, tendon,

all cooked meticulously in

one

giant

pot. that begins

to shake, to quiver, with all the howling ,screaming

oinks and snorts from within, souls speak out –

turns over, melting flaming soup

floods the forest floor,

and shy, cunning and hardened

maidens seek to take refuge

in high up caves,

but the timing was off: they too

are no immune to the wrath of gods

where flashing eyes

speak –

of pink, red lines

coming in waves

in the hearts

where the immortals live, dwell, sleep

each plea, each cry, each kill

of a unicorn leaves. rage.

heavenly rage, not too unlike humans

as a wide eyed man’s lower jaw fell

with gravity’s pull. argh, argh

that’s not my signature,

and a contract was signed

with a little too much of a good time,

shy, cunning, hardened

maidens too learned

the craft, the trick, the turn the tables over

and a man is caught with his pants down!

no way!

yes, way the maidens sung

and silver, rainbow got pieced

back together in the chaos: their upside down

life turned well.

oink, oink, a maiden dissolves from the

crowd – her spear sprang up but no monsters

were in sight. then a lowering of guard,

snap, got taken off

by invisible hearts biding their time,

seized the moment. carried her off

to the caves, up, up

in the mountains where melted pig soup

did not touch.

their peace, their silver wrapped

away;

then the mountains felt the blasts,

the paper contracts felt the fires from above,

you tyrant! that voice too shut off

almost immediately, like it never happened,

peaceful earth

once again – with gods sleeping

in the hearts, waiting to be awakened

when lines become red.