Come here my Pretty (Prose)

570_jack-the-ripper3

he melts into obscurity, holds
knife close to his chest
have you eyed the devil
moments rational or crapulous
he slices

hearts from breast
kidneys laid bare
alluding to be one of us
licking lips savouring
the next victim that he hunts

misty early mornings
blackened night
in alleyways
deleterious his intent
he haunts the weak, the frail

exposing wounds, but not himself
eyes wide open, disemboweled
calculating lust and slaughter
heart beat quickens with his blade

popping sinews a surgeons skill
wets his appetite
obsession for the frightened
beware the devil you can’t see
he could be anyone you know

… even me

©jmtacken Feb 2014

Shared with  Prompt 43 Supernatural Lust    I chose serial killers.

Some people experience an amplified lust for life (some times it’s drug or mania-induced sometimes it comes from a more internal/innocuous source)

Hypersexuality, Zeus and his sexual conquests, Bacchanalia, Vampires and blood lust, The sick twisted lust of serial killers

 

they sell ‘what’ at the market??

I am giving my little poetic brain a rest for now..probably will emerge later on tomorrow.

For this little post however I want to tell you the disturbing sight Mr. S and I saw this afternoon.

No,  it wasn’t both of us naked readers, please get that visual out of your heads.

We went to the local market near us, primarily to purchase some printer ink for Pop and some fruit. I did get somewhat distracted by the honey covered almonds and macadamias and yes I bought a small packet.. as they are were simply delish!

We strolled up and down the aisles (it’s like one very large open undercover garage) surveying the crap articles for sale.  My goodness such an array of …. and…. can’t really describe the fake jewellery, the illegally downloaded DVD’s and CD’s… where are those pirates when you need them? Oh they don’t actually send pirates  😦  pity Mr. Depp just sprang to mind racing across the foreshore hmmmm, sorry where was I.

Oh yes,  the disturbing articles on display in a very large stand, surrounded by a plastic shield were knives (I am so sorry I did not take a photo to share),  but I shall be writing to our local paper tomorrow to get an explanation!

We aren’t talking your apple paring knife, or your fish scaling knife or even your swiss army (must have in case  get lost in the wilderness knife). We are talking weapons, weapons that dads and their young sons were ogling over.  Weapons that teenage boys were pointing at and excitedly saying “Crap look at that one!”

PEOPLE Really…Seriously? How on earth can these be on display and sold?  Do we not have enough violence to deal with in our little suburban lives without thinking that Mr. “I want to sell you a new electricity plan”, who comes knocking on our doors, doesn’t pull out one of these instruments of death.

We don’t have wild animals roaming for the need to protect ourselves from them. Our kangaroos are very rarely seen in suburbia. What on earth and more so how on earth are people allowed to sell these in a Sunday market along side your fruit and veg?

It baffles me and disgusts me and certainly gives the wrong message to the “let’s go strolling round the market and see if we can buy a kick-arse machete this afternoon?!”

That’s it – I am done, but I shall be writing our local paper and ask W..T…

 

Over and out

x

 

 

 

 

 

Object and Action

Knife struck my chest
eyes stared
to you
stared at the knife
imbedded

blood flowered
on my dress
held the steel
touched your face

mouth opened
words would not flow
from dry lips
I simply murmured

blood engulfed
the blade
hands wet

 
stained fingers sticking
falling to the ground
only to whisper
why

 

http://www.google.com.au/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=black+and+white+photos+of+knives+stabbing&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=vdYPoUQ51j8hcM&tbnid=UQbMNFwjn09fXM:&ved=0CAQQjB0&url=http%3A%2F%2Fboise.pillblogger.com%2FMystery_Man_Stabs_Self.html&ei=PnITUYbRMIHKmQWm2IGgBQ&bvm=bv.42080656,d.dGY&psig=AFQjCNGKFhNT11YTMSp3yEB73bC4cNxDoA&ust=1360315322123149

 

 

Breaking Up

Don’t walk out the door

How will I cope when you are not here?

Please don’t leave me

Will you even care if I shed a tear?

We laughed but only yesterday

Now you want to go?

I don’t understand… please talk to me?

You are my love, my world, my beau

Couples fights and then make up

Can’t we talk this through?

Stay with me…talk to me

Please can’t we do that too?

The sound of the door closing

I stand numb with tears on cheek,

I see the clothes strewn on the floor

Can’t breathe, my heart feels weak

You have gone, I stumble from the room

I fall to floor upon my knees

My breath in gasps… it’s hard to breathe

My body shakes…eyes closed…can’t see

I rock like that of a child

Thinking this isn’t true

You have left..gone from my life

Come back, return…I love you

My tears… my body aching

I’ve lost all control

The pain it cuts into me

That of a knife into my soul

I cannot think, I only feel

I want the pain to go away

I’m alone, I’m scared my world now black

I love you…can you hear me?…come back….come back…come back