Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Haunted House

The wind is absolutely howling tonight, freaking me out a bit. I decided to write a tongue-in-cheek haunted house poem, but it went where it would, and in the end only freaked me out even more. Here it is.

The wind was talking smack against the window frames

When the knock came.

She looked like you, could almost be you

The way that smoke could almost be ink.



I showed her to the wide stone staircase lit with torches.

The mastiffs could barely be kept from falling upon her,

Or me,

So like nervous rabbits did we seem.



She looked so like you, turning her back the same way,

That I saw each step as we rose to be a tarot card.

I asked her a question,

But she spared me only the same answer shades give

Albeit draped in dark inflections,

Inviting me further into my own house as she gained strength and I became more lost.



There are places no one should ever go--

The greenhouse at night;

The lawn on Hangman's Tuesday.

I offered her a room and she suffered me to come inside,

Undressing and bathing me as if I had died.

She loved me as moths do,

Lightly and unthinkingly--

Again, she was almost you except without the iced white roses you always carry at your breasts

Or the melody you sing to keep me tethered.



I placed my desire in a velvet pouch and slipped it into her pillow case

As one slips poison into fresh dough.

She rose

In the morning

Like a black sun,

The half-interested new Mistress of the Manor,

Shutting my eyes inside a bone locket at her throat so that I might always see

How happy she had become

Devouring the desire

Intended for another.

_________

12 comments:

  1. I love it! So many brilliant lines...

    "The way that smoke could almost be ink."

    "Undressing and bathing me as if I had died.

    She loved me as moths do,

    Lightly and unthinkingly--"

    "Or the melody you sing to keep me tethered."

    Thank you for my daily delight! :-)

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  2. I like the "wind talking smack against the window frames."

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  3. nice...the bone locket, a constant reminder...a delight for the senses shay...now try to sleep while the lights are up and that nasty wind is away...

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  4. The wind has blown the spirits around and made them speak, and as always, perhaps silence would have been less frightening. Beautiful images and I think hiding in them some home truths just barely veiled by a blowing lace curtain of words.

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  5. Shay, you had me with the "wind talking smack" right down to the fantastic ending. How scary to think about one's love being transformed into another colder, haunted version. And there's commentary about relationships in this as well. Or maybe I'm just projecting again. Sorry the wind creeped you out, but you've produced an awesome write from it.

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  6. Wowzers, this is very dark and powerful. I especially loved "the melody you sing to keep me tethered", and "how happy she had become devouring the desire intended for another."

    The whole going up the stairs stanza is thrillingly scary. Terrific writing, kiddo.

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  7. We had the same scary winds last night - they always seem to speak in a language that refuses to be understood or ignored.

    I can see why you freaked yourself out! Yikes!

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  8. I wish I could write a poem that could comfort and let you have sweet dreams. Maybe exorcising the fear allowed you to sleep better, even if you were a bit freaked out.
    I love the line, " as one slips poison into fresh dough" and then "she rose". It is funny on a couple levels. First, " as one" does, the assumption that it is something that is done, that made me laugh. Secondly the dough and then the rising, brilliant!
    xoxo

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  9. You have such a richness to your work. I love coming here :)

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  10. Both creepy and sensual. A fascinating combination...

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Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?