Haunted

 

I have included two of my poems here to celebrate the current Writers Island prompt — “Haunted!” I have included an image with each.

The first work is a brand new ‘rhymer’ I wrote entitled “Bloody Sue”, and is accompanied by a new photo collage I created entitled “Scarlett Woman”.

The second piece is a reprise of a free verse poem I wrote back in June. It’s entitled “Nocturne”, as is the black & white photo rendering. I thought this one also went well with this week’s prompt.

NOTE: There is a link below “Nocturne” that will take you to a ’spoken word’ version of me reading the piece.

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Bloody Sue

•

Gather close so you might hear
A tale of terror, a tale of fear

You may choose to doubt my word
But you’ve been warned once you’ve heard

Of the vengeful maiden dressed in red
7 men lured, 7 men dead

7 men drawn to this comely miss
7 souls lost to her lethal kiss

A modern legend is Bloody Sue
Her deeds of horror are bold and true

Was she from hell or from heaven’s gate
It’s certain her victims deserved their fate

 

The first, the banker, an avarice man
Stole dreams of others with his evil plan

To own the world, to possess the lot
Now all that’s his is a dead man’s plot

Found with coins choked down his throat
Clutched in his hand a bloody note

“To you wicked greedy, this could be you
Remember well,” signed – Bloody Sue

 

The second, the lawyer, a prideful sort
Lied and cheated to win in court

And bragged of his dishonest way
Until violence marked his final day

Found one morning with bashed-in head
A bloody gavel lay on his bed

“Bludgeoned here for his lies and scandal,”
Read Sue’s note, wrapped ‘round the handle

 

The third, the bishop, a man of lust
Molested innocence, betrayed their trust

Kept a journal of his lurid deeds
A trophy to all his prurient needs

Found slumped on his pulpit with a bloody lap
His private parts in his bishop’s cap

“Beware vile predators throughout this land!”
Sue had carved in the bishop’s hand

 

Fourth was the baker, a gluttoness fool
Treated his workers horribly cruel

Paid not enough to put food on their plate
While he gorged himself – he ate and ate

One day at the bakery’s opening hour
He was found buried in a vat of flour

Across the vat, fat and big,
In chocolate icing, Sue wrote – “pig”

 

Then came the lazy chief of police
Unsolved cases filled his valise

Crime and violence everywhere
While he snoozed in his office chair

One day shots rang loud and clear
Sue riddled the chief from ear to ear

“Get another chief and get this damned work done!”
Said the note from Sue, found by the gun

 

The office gossip, and his jealous way
Spread lies and rumors on the phone all day

His envy the ruin of many good names
Destroying lives with his vicious games

Sue used his phone to strangle him
And left a voice mail dire and grim

“To all who ruin a reputation
You too will die from strangulation.”

 

Last… the radio talk-show host
Spreading propaganda, coast to coast

Pawn of spiteful politicians
Corrupt, though acting above suspicions

Electrocuted on his live broadcast
Sue dealt justice hard and fast

She was heard to say as hot sparks flew
“Beware you haters, I’ll fry you too.”

 

So that’s the story of Bloody Sue
Believe it, or not – that’s up to you

A brutal beauty in scarlet cape
From her hand of vengeance there’s no escape

She will draw from you your final breath
If she marks you with her kiss of death

Some say she’s a ghost who haunts this earth
Others claim an angel, of heavenly birth

But all agree there’s one thing true
If you’re a son-of-a-bitch, she’ll come for you

…

rob kistner © 2007

 

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Nocturne

•

hawk moon hangs heavy
in the damp night sky

bulbous moist pearl

rolling

in a cold chromium fog

wet slivers of cloud
smear themselves
across its face

irregular

like translucent sacks
of moonbeams

breathing

glassine billowing pillows
oozing

soaked with midnight

stars float and spark

glinting
dripping
shivering

frozen splintered crystal-tips
diamond chips
pinprick rips
in blackened space

they wink and wane
and flutter

shattered bits of silvered light
snapping here then not

behind the ghostly white
vapor that slithers
through the firmament

the world devoid of color
aglow in sterling grey
a negative of day

thick and chilled

filled with the sound
of stalking after-dark things

nocturne

the sorrowing hour

to lay bare your soul
in pale introspection

in grief of secrets

…

rob kistner © 2007

 

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To hear Nocturne read by the author, CLICK HERE…

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~ by Image&VerseToo on October 29, 2007.