Saturday, October 31, 2009

caper cat

In the
Terrifying Tale
Of the
Tacky Tick

Not for the squeamish, our tale.
Begins with a terrifying tacky tick.
A tick with such poor taste in clothing
An manners, that it was a virtual
Outcast in the Carpet Colony, the small
Planned Community into which our
Hapless Hero was born.

The Terrifyingly Tacky Tick was a social
Misfit from the start of his small pathetic
Life. While other ticks dreamed of traveling
Away to far off wondrous places on the backs
O peacocks, otters, and dapper dachshunds,
The Terrifyingly Tacky Tick seemed destined
For failure.

For those who toiled in the Carpet Colony,
The inability of the Tacky Tick to imagine a
Life beyond The Shag left him with nothing
But contempt. The Tacky Tick, in his loneliness,
Turned to the companionship of dust mites,
Fleas, and evolved strains of bacteria.

It is from these Lesser Dwellers among
The Shag that the Tacky Tick first learned
The regretful errors of Reckless Tackiness.
The Lesser Dwellers were shunned by the
Carpet Colony for their virtual inability to
Accessorize.

Meanwhile, in the Carpet Colony, all was
Not well. Happily playing amongst the
Stench of urine, how could 17 generations
Of ticks have known that the Shaggy
Wonderland that they called home was
Slated for re-development? Without warning,
Their care-free-rent-control environment
Was ripped out from under them in one mad
Chaotic afternoon of Urban Renewal.

Cloudy pillows of dust mites were tossed
To the four corners of the world, families
Of fleas searched in vain for hosts to carry
Them away from the apocalyptic destruction,
And the descendants of 17 generations of ticks
Kissed their loved ones good-bye as the night
Closed on their childhood dreams.

Our Hapless Hero, the Terrifyingly Tacky Tick,
Returned to the devastation from his trip to
Waltick's. The ticks were wailing their death
Cries, the Lesser Dwellers had all but vanished
In the Dust Mite Air, and, clutching his package
Filled with Plastics from Hong Kong, and nail polish
In Glitter Chrome and Gunmetal Blue, clung to the
Work boot he spied leaving the scene.

Caper Cat, returning home, once again,
Drunk and lustful from a pool-playing
Shot-drinking binge hesitated for only
A moment before pulling the cordless
Phone from its cradle. The slick sexy
Crime-solving PI made a call that would,
Before the night was through, save one
Life, and destroy another.

Within seconds of whispered affections,
A hand brushed over a breast to reveal
The new location of the Terrifyingly Tacky
Tick. Our Hapless Hero, unlike his tormentors,
Had traveled beyond The Shag on a beautiful
Exotic Creature. But he was no match for
Caper Cat, and would have to pay for his
short-lived adventures with his life.

Once Again,
Caper Cat Has
Foiled Her
Opponents And
Saved the Day!

-in remembrance of Oliver, a well-loved companion and friend. Take good
care of a devoted member of our clan. We love you!
October 31, 2009
Shelly Manaster

 

copyright, 2009, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved


Friday, October 30, 2009

the devil whispered


the devil whispered


the devil whispered,

take my hand,

lets fuck 'em first
.
no, let's kill 'em.
take the tire iron'
from my hand,
poor piss fucker.
oy yeh, baby fucker.
oi yhea, mericon.
lead me to thestump,
stick out your neck,
i'm feelin' lucky today.
seeketh redemption,
none to be had
take my hand
the devil whispered.


  copyright, 2009, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved


he

happy

Align Centerhappy happy hallowed eve; happy birthday, my dear friend, steve happy is the night. brought out, like so many candles. blown away, like so many fallen leaves. burnt up, like so many fleshly desires. burning remains, illuminate the scourge. scour the hour, for your source of power and bring the diseased their fruit. masticated bones, gnawed by the truth. there is no more flesh to be chewed. beaten by so many truths. copyright, terri l. gillentine. 2009

fang song

Fear does not justify itself with a name, descriptive at best, terrifying at least.
What does it inspire? Call into question, demand our full attention, then scream the answer. Fear does not come into the light, but drag us kicking and screaming to go out necromancing at night. Howling and baying. While vying for our attention. Tantrums of rage suppressed under the dying moon. For fear does not enjoy the sunbeams of delight. Troubled fog descends onto the plight of an unfulfilled dream. What does the dreamer do to re-ignite the vision? Return to the peaceful tumult of an endless sleep? Induce the shaman to go back into the night and confront this demon. The battles have been long, hard fought epic struggles. What is to be gained by felling the beast?

Hard fought
Too much thought
Epic dreams overwrought
Tumultuous decisions
Never brought
To the mastecater
The dream eater
my flesh feeder
Pessimistic breeder
Of deceit
Infused by the blood
Drawn.
Portrait staring
Blank eyes wounded
Pound of flesh extruded
Like so many lumps
Of dough
Rey me
Sing me a song
Sung off key
Hum me a hymn
Only understood by me

The song has been sung to call the battalions forth, the call has been heard by the gathering troops. Dressed in the gear that will instill intimidation and fear. Gathered together to commiserate on what will come and be bore through the night. The travails continue on the long and winding path that leads nowhere, not now, not ever. blasts of the horn corner those that might flee from the battle, about to ensue. brave hearts trudge gallantly forward, for vanity of a coward is never to be rewarded. Flags are unfurled, horses are mounted, for now more than ever; stand up and be counted.
Blast the trumpeter who stands on the hill. Her call to arms. Arms that have been severed, then cast asunder, with no one taking the blame. For there is no blame when fear rallies the troops; only anger and stubborn shame.

For fear will not be denied just desserts. It is all the same.


copyright, 2009, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved

live

never marry
the one
you can live with;
live with
the one
you can't
live without.

i can't live without
you.

copyright, 2009, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved

change

hooked to
a raft
tied to
a moor
anchored to
an island
towed out to
sea by a ship.
pulled into
the wake
dragged onto
the current
locked in
the channel
rocked by
the incoming waves.
blown by
the proverbial winds
tossed by
the indomitable spirit
ripped like
so many sails
caught on
the winds
of change.

copyright, 2009, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved