ANGELA'S POETRY

King sprinkled the site black and
blue, shades of bruise covering my
coffin. Night thoughts slippy-slide in

abstract mind, I toss turn and
tumble through the spiral. Chutes and
Ladders, Alice and Mad Hatter, my

bare feet slice on glass-grass of
Strawberry Fields. Backward
pictures dripping behind quivering

lashes. Lilies dying, in mind's
eye, thoughts lighting fires in
cities. Tonight Jeopardy's stars are

Aristotle, Plato and Mickey Mouse.
Check your local listings. Freud's field
day; a subconscious playground formed by

emotion. Clock's strike twelve, and the
fairy dust wares thin. Twisted blanket
cocoon gnarled around my body. I

bolt awake, push sweat-hair from my
eyes. Glancing at the clock, I
discover I have another two hours to sleep.

Harlot beget him, harlot entranced him;
Child-eyes observed her midnight rituals under
Sheets of dirty cotton. Jewel spots leaked from

Her veins. He saw only rubies, India's finest.
Shutting the whore's mouth for good did her a
Favor. He loved her that much. Saw her face in

The good time girls. Memories like sweat, dripping
Thick into his eyes. Shred another heart, wipe the
Evidence on their clothes. How dare they exist?

Prostitute passion, cut to the quick.
Ragdolls, all of them. Adored for beauty,
Abhorred for the same. Mother is an angel now.

Doctor by profession, ripper by choice.
Sanguine coloured his fantasy, fondling
Innards by day, devouring them at night.

Arsenic adrenaline, poison-clouded mind,
England's sex-secret world fell to its knees.
He saw only scarlet. Spite-anger, Love-blood.

Wicked sheen glistened on straight razor
Lust. Strength of ten men, and cynicism
Enough for the world. Cat and mouse, you

And detecting boys. Letters boasting deeds,
Smeared laughter on the walls. A game
Guessing, and you never lost face.

Mask secure, crimson veneer wrought
Tales in the halls of time. The Legend of Jack
Sleeps fitfully, bloody nightmare eternal.

Conditions too fierce, I craved
Lifeless love, cobblestone misty romance.
I wanted to be a martyr, haunted by your
Memory. Blind to the day for what it was.

Doorway silhouette is where I stood you,
Gazing upon your gentle Victorian self.
No one wore a top hat the way you did.
My loving portrait, marionette child.

Your beauty I praised, glazed and
Tied with a bow. Brilliance like moonlight on
Frozen tar. Talk, talk, talk... My oppression
Ignored your very existence.

Cruelty smells like the bathroom floor.
My claims of disinterest, only hoping to
Stroke the flames of our passion play.
Ginger snapped in that moment, and

Fell from the sky. Crimson promises stained
Your bathwater. True form now, walking the
Streets with the past in my palm. Secure in
Shadow, I see red. I got what I begged for.

Martyred mirror pool, oh you're so full of angst.
Proper pitiful poses for those keeping track.
You would never call it anger, that's far too
Fiendish for you. Dub it 'My Red One', and
Display your scars for all to see.

Your rubies lost their shine a long time ago.
Faked orgasm of crimson, your hatred
Spoiled like milk. How artistic you are, how
Brilliantly notorious. How you make my head ache.

Rich velvet shoes the color of blood, do you
Even sleep in the same? Blind rotten soul,
Don't you see the colors of the sky?

Create what you will, live like a ripped artery.
Sanguine portraits never appealed to me.

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