Ballad of the Ninja PenguinsOh, ninja penguins stand aloneAlong the icy shore,And dive into the frigid deepTo glide on ocean floor.They dance and spin under the waves(As ninjas ought to do),They eat some fish and search for goldTo store in their canoe.Now ninja penguins ought be warned,For pirate seals are worse.Their large sharp teeth will sadly endThis ninja penguin verse.(*Chomp*)
112. LostDead rose petals curlaround the edge of my hand,lost without their thorns.
A Lover's CaseIt always alarms:that pale cold eyedripping between October leaves,that omniscient scrutinyaloof from mortal anguish.Yet tonight my gazeholds more power,melting its precise linesin a single hot look.Nuit damour, I begNo answers,No proposals or strategies,just compassionin your silent watch.
AnamnesisI will forget him now that he is gone,And let this mem'ry slip between the weeks.I will forget the way his eyes were drawn,Or how he lost ability to speak.The way he twitched in coma's grip one noon,And how his hair fell out in daily clumps -I will forget his shrunken form cocooned,Chained down by respiratory pump.How damned these eyes, that will not let me rest,And damned this freight of thoughts that brings me back.And now with death, I find myself possessedSo mesmerized by this, one broken pact.You left five years ago but never diedAnd breathing free, you laugh behind my eyes.
MartianVisitstheMusicBuildingA song is the result of a soul exploding,tasted through the ears.The violins, a curious species,are bred for the sole purpose of torture.Slowly the executioners saw at themwith pointed sticks that evoke a most terriblerange of screams, before they dieand are buried in black locked boxes.The highest authorityis the rank of Steinway,worn only by a large, hunched animal.Sometimes it is silent, examining the humanswith all 36 of its sharp black eyes;although when consultedit emits a quick soft answer.When it is feeling sociable,it will proceed to engage in longairy conversations, and when it hasbeen displeased, it vents its angerwith a loud, cacophonous roar.Often, though, it sits alone in contemplation,as is the custom on this planet.Flutes are a petrified breed of snake,containing numerous circular incisionsalong its spine: used for coded communication.A melody, indiscriminate in her predatory hunt,eats her way through murky canalsand pa
Ars PoeticaStop:Arrange the pen, the page, the frenzied eye,the fingers itching to thrum on the typewriter keys.Breathe in the air mixed with orange peel,chocolate, coffee grounds, stale winepencil shavings, smoke, and mold.Tense. Compose. Stalluntil the words run burning though flesh,flicking silver scales and curves -a torrent of green, black, and gold imps.Release them in mashed scrawls upon the page;stab those that try to escape and bury themin shallow, scribbly graves.Find those drowning in the muckand encircle them in heavy lines of red,a thin line of salvation from the imminent revision.StopAnd begin again:Taste the words: the delicate sifting calm of oooh,mmmms that pinch lips and rumble like a cats purr.The apple-flavored aaah that dances across the palate;the quick sharp hummingbird articles and thick dusty clauses,vibrant feathery adjectives that flit betweentheir dull and honey-colored nouns,singing a wild song all thei