Fables of old

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Lurking in the depths, where light doesn’t dare penetrate, I wait patiently for my prey.

Hush, hear my whispers mingling with the crush of the waves,
listen to the fierce winds carrying false promises of a sweet embrace.

Sailors caught in the heart of the storm are a stellar prize — before sunrise,
come to me in a great swarm, fearful yet eager to be torn
to pieces, ready to enter the pages of the fables of old.

You will taste the salt on my lips, be buried in the emerald fluids of my crypt – your deaths, tales of your shipwrecks will be made into songs cherished by future generations – ensuring that neither you nor I ever fall into oblivion.

Image credit: nina-y.deviantart.com

Chameleons & sheep

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The little girl squirmed on her mother’s knee, she wasn’t interested in stories and thought books were boring.

When her father tried to teach her the names of the different flowers, plants and trees, she sighed and wondered what the fuss was about.

All she wanted to do was to sit with the sheep out in the fields – they were fluffy and sweet – they didn’t attempt to speak to her, or teach her things. She liked to run her hands through their fleece while they stared vacantly into nothing.

One day, the little girl forgot to go home, or maybe she really didn’t want to, she slept between the sheep, dreaming in black and white, ate blades of grass, green stains spreading on her dress.

It was 2 weeks until they found her, she didn’t recognise her mother, she had lost the ability to speak and could do no more than bleat as they sought to brush her hair which had lost its shine and now resembled a tangled coarse mass of wool. She had only been gone 2 weeks but it took years to get her back to some semblance of normality – make of this story what you will.

*Have you noticed how some people take on the tastes, opinions, speech patterns, vocabulary, expressions and sometimes even habits and so on… of those they interact with the most? It’s a weird chameleon thing I’ve never quite understood, it seems to denote a lack of personality to me…or at least a weak one. I’ve had the occasion to observe this at close quarters many times in the past and very recently as well.  In any case…

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Image credit: struckdumb.deviantart.com

Modern Fairy Tale

 

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Cinderella was in the scullery, cleaning up the mess her two bitch stepsisters had left after a late night supper, when her Fairy Godmother came in and said: “the time has come for your life to change, my child. You shall have a beautiful gown and go to the ball tonight. Prince Charming will pledge his love for you and you will have a wedding befitting a princess.”

Cinderella replied: “I wouldn’t mind going to the ball, I haven’t been out of this house for years. And how I’d love a beautiful gown!
I do not want Prince Charming’s love though, I heard he cannot string a sentence together and has never read a book in his life.

If you want to help me, can you please put me through Law School instead? I’ve been reading up on it, and although Human Rights Law is appealing to me for obvious reasons, I’m more interested in Criminal Law – wouldn’t it be fantastic if I ended up nailing my stepmother for stealing my inheritance the way she did?

Father has been rendered blind by her ginormous fake boobs and can’t see past them – he’s let her get away with murder because she knows a few tricks in the bedroom. My father is a deeply flawed human being who’s being led by his dick – so I’ve been reduced to being a maid to a selfish whore and her vile daughters – in my own home!
You’re right Fairy Godmother, it’s time for my life to change – but if you’re going to use your magic wand to help me, do it so I can help myself. Law school is the way to go, not Prince Charming.”

Fairy Godmother was left bemused by this speech – she suddenly felt out of touch with the world – but she’d always had a soft spot for Cinderella whom she found such an unusual child.

“Young girls these days! You and your modern ways….. I must confess I don’t understand it, are you sure about Prince Charming? He’s very handsome you know, and all the girls want him…..”

“Handsome isn’t enough Godmother! I need a man who can stimulate my brain, someone who can challenge me. Handsome is alright for a quick roll between the  sheets, but…. that’s it! In any case, it’s not a man I need right now – but the means to escape this house and have the life I need and deserve. And that means Law School. Please Fairy Godmother?”

Fairy Godmother could not resist this plea. After all, her wish was to help Cinderella and no, this was not the way things were supposed to go (she had been so sure marriage to Prince Charming was what any girl wanted) but only a fool would refuse to adapt to circumstances.

So it was that Cinderella went to Law School, graduated with honours and joined a promising Law Firm. She specialised in criminal Law and soon became a kick-ass Lawyer with a stellar career – the highlight of which came when she opened for the prosecution after her stepmother was busted for some shady property deals.
The whore stepmother went down for 5 years, and that day was a sweet one for Cinderella.

One of her stepsisters ended up marrying Prince Charming and gave him 3 kids – though at least two of them bore a striking resemblance to the candlestick-maker. Not that Prince Charming noticed – he really was that dim – plus he was too busy spreading his seed all over the kingdom anyway.

The other stepsister started turning tricks in the woods outside the castle after her mother’s jail sentence; not surprisingly, her married-to-a-Prince bitch sister turned her back on her.

Cinderella’s father found another wife with (fake) pneumatic breasts and suffered a coronary one night while his face was buried in them. He died with his head stuck in between two large silicone bags – it’s fair to say Cinderella didn’t mourn him much.

Cinderella had a 6-year relationship that ultimately didn’t work out. She’s currently dating someone though. She’s happy.

The Fairy Godmother has caught up with modern ways. She sips at her glass of Chablis and marvels at Cinderella’s wisdom – and at the fact this smart girl taught an actual Fairy Godmother ffs, a valuable lesson: it takes a hell of a lot more than a magic wand to change someone’s life for the better.

*Repost from June 2015. One of my friends was perusing my blog this morning since his boss is out of the office today (when the cat’s away and all that) and he texted me to enthuse over this particular post. I hadn’t read it in ages but while doing so, I realised that I really like this little tale…so here it is again 🙂 *

Image: my own

Run

I waited for you, time frozen, arrested, and yet spinning, the silence deafening — I opened doors and windows to let other noises in, to no avail, nothing is louder than a torrent of emptiness. I wilted, neglected, yet I never lost faith, not realising men do not torment themselves in quite the same way we do, not believing that things would change, that when you’d come back, we’d fail, crumble under the weight of expectation.

Now you have moved across the sea, to get away from me and the guilt you felt every time you looked at my face. You have left, once again, taking my heart in the most banal of theft, and I have stayed, while somehow carrying the blame.

Ps: I am SO in love with this song ❤️

Fake

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You, fumbling in the backseat… as if we were 16… I played along, faked a lack of expertise but now,
I’m all out of magnanimity, I’m not even sure it was funny
to start with.
It takes a special type of man to turn me submissive.
There are some who can bring me to my knees, with a look and the tantalising sound of a zip,
their fingers twisting, pulling my hair, gripping my neck…at times, I like nothing better, I don’t even mind the resulting bruises.

Those men ain’t you.

So why don’t you brush up on your technique & personality,
forget the
1,2,3 and switch
lifted from
unimaginative porn movies
lose the guitar, the pretending you’re a rock star, with the same 4 notes played over and over again, trash the copy of “On The Road”,
quoting Kerouac – without heart – will only take you so far; even the whiskey bottle, it’s all staged, all for show,
and by the way, I don’t at all rate Jared Leto.

Look at you strutting your stuff, thinking you’re a fallen angel, an experimental artist, I guess the fact you’re a dental hygienist is purely accidental,
a mere step on your road to greatness.

I was bored babe, in a state, that’s the only reason you caught me in your tatty net when you went on your “catching a rare butterfly” quest.
When it comes to fantasies & lovers,
you’re down on your luck and I don’t give a fuck
because
let’s be real,
I’ve actually got more balls
than you.

Image Credit: down-a-rabbit-hole.deviantart.com

Lost Fairy

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The fairy looked around, she just couldn’t understand how she’d ended up in this strange land. She had to admit it was not an attractive place: where were the gnarled trees and sweet blades of grass? Everywhere was cold cement. The air was thick and heavy – her diaphanous wings felt grimy. Not a single flower to be seen, and people…..people looked strange and rushed past as if they couldn’t actually see her. They looked determined, as if they were on a journey – but not one that lead to adventure.
Nobody looked happy, no face betrayed any emotion apart from weariness.

The fairy suddenly understood that the key to getting back to her own world was imagination. She needed only a single one of those weird creatures to see her – this would denote an untarnished spirit and an un-jaded soul. Through such a person’s imagination, she would be able to return to her homeland which she was starting to miss very badly.

She saw a child approach and her hope rose – she knew children had the purest souls, and untainted imaginations.
Yet this child looked straight through her as if she didn’t exist; it was a young boy – he was gripping a square device and all his attention seemed to be focused on it.

The fairy felt a stab of despair, but she quickly admonished herself. She simply refused to believe that imagination didn’t exist in this world – she only needed to be patient.

She settled herself on the ugly brick wall by the side of the pavement and started her long wait for the one unadulterated soul who would send her back to her fairy-tale, where she belonged.

She is still waiting.

*Repost: First written and published April 26th 2015

Image credit: pygar.deviantart.com

Not now & not ever

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She had porcelain skin, eyes green and deep as sin, she was your favourite doll
until you got tired of her
and not content with putting her away on a shelf,
you had to go and find a dusty old attic
to shut her in
so her silent tears, in the dark
could not reach you, or anyone else.

Abandoned, she wilted slightly
but retained enough charm
to somehow seduce another
who fell for her beautiful heart – he was ready to love her.
For real, and for ever.
Colour returned to her cheeks, hope trembled in her eyes, could happiness really be in reach this time?

You heard…a rumour? Was it the sound of her happy, steady heartbeat?
Did it really mean…?
Yes, the suffering you had caused was forgotten, you knew you were history…no, you just couldn’t let it be.
The shiny new toy you had discarded her for,
the exciting new plaything you had been so enamoured of
was instantly forgotten,
and you were suddenly gripped by this all consuming fury.

You returned to the attic, tried to take her back, claiming ownership.
No — they both said in unison — please!”
You wouldn’t listen, tugged and pulled her limbs, willing to hurt, destroy if need be.
An arm came off,
a leg,
she shuddered and fell.
She was broken, beyond repair.

He howled with pain while you shrugged, as if it had all been a game.

A game.
Nobody had won,
except you really had
because from this moment on,
nobody else could have her.
Not now.
And not ever.

Image credit: tiryth.deviantart.com

April Snow

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Oh, how fun it is to be lurching from one disaster to another…she sang.
Some devil, somewhere, obviously had a bunch of dominoes going spare, and decided to set them all up before giving one a little shove…

Time to pause, reflect…or give up and become a nun…only not in a convent…my addiction to certain solitary pleasures most probably would be frowned upon…in fact, it’s entirely possible that if I tried to pass through a convent door, dark smoke would suddenly appear – bolts of lightening prevent me from entering – there might even be some hissing, who knows, I’m not willing to risk it.

So, the life of a nun without the nunnery…a heart kept under lock and key…I’ve still got my books… and I can look at my collection of fuck-me shoes…what else does anyone really need? Humour, and since I’m able to laugh at me, laughter in my future is an absolute guarantee.
Oh, and how could I forget chocolate, I predict orgies of the stuff for this formerly reckless pirate.

Snow in April, who would have thought it? Not I, but as a metaphor, it couldn’t be anymore perfect.

*It was actually snowing in my garden an hour ago – crazy Spring*

Image credit: Juli-snowwhite.deviantart.com