Grave Plots

                                                      The Court of Oyer and Terminer date: July 7th 1692 location: Topsfield Massachusetts accused: miss Geraldine Goode judge:   Mr. George Burroughs report : sentenced for witchcraft.  Miss. Geraldine Goode, 17 years old, was brought to trial for communing with unholy spirits and aiding the devil. The accused has been seen by her fellow townsfolk spasming while speaking in tongues not of this holy realm. The accused was brought to trial in Topsfield Courthouse on July 7th, 1692, where a standard witch test was performed. This test was performed at 08.00 hours. The accused was brought before the town in chains as Mr. Thomas Edwin and Mr. David Bishop repeatedly pi...

I adore you. You're my flame in darkness. I fell from the heavens for you. I want you  like the sun wishes to kiss the moon. I desire you with every fibre of my being. and I need you. Like rain yearning for the sea I'm in awe of your captivating silhouette. I finally have you and I will gladly fall again.

Blissfully, the brunette leaves flutter in a furious breeze, as if a never-ending waterfall hung in the sky spitting them towards the earth. The trees bent and bowed to the wind, giving in to the ruler of the forest. Littered with pinecones punctuated with leaves; the forest floor was a thick blanket bursting with life and love for the brilliant life-giving stars. Dawning a rose twiglet and twine dress, she skipped carelessly through the petal fields and moss blankets. Golden ringlets, accented with stars and sunrays, dazzled in the permanent moonlight, framing her porcelain face. Her pointed ears puetruded from the sea of gold while her eyes held ships on stormy seas battling each wave of grey, silver, and blue thrown at them. Her cheeks were kissed by the petals of spider lilies as frostbite gnawed at her velvety skin. The forest had always been all for her to bask and play in. Yet here it was. a creature . a creature she had never seen before. Goats eyes, horns, and clawed hands, ...

Please note that this poem may be triggering to some. TW: loss of a child I felt you growing all the way to month three. Your energy and spirit, coursing through me. I built you, created you, adored you, But you couldn't hang on; It all fell through. It was a trickle, then a chunk, then a waterfall. , As I led in that tub pleading for forgiveness, My body rejected you. Although you were so young and so small, What a horrible Yule. Your siblings followed in your footsteps  One loss after another  Just another misstep I hope they join my brother I surrender to the sickness Across the rainbow bridge they rest Knowing my body failed the test Another clump of cells in the bin, I give in.

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How do cold knives feel so searing? The pit of my arm is screaming, crying crimson. My brittle flesh glided through, like an eye in its socket; it had always belonged there. And now, as I sprawl this out on my wall in my own lineage, I realise why he'd chosen to only paralyse my arm. He's coming back; he never left the house.

  Mummy says it's fun to be nice. I like fun. School is fun. I play with the other kids there. I don't like Chris, though. He's mean to me, and I don't like it. Sometimes he takes my toys and hides them. I decided to play with him today. We played dinosaurs. I was a t-rex. I don't know what he was. Teacher told me T-rex’s were the biggest killers in nature. Dinosaurs fight all the time, but only one wins. When we played, I put his neck in my hands .  It wasn't too hard. Just a few crunches and snaps and the T-rex wins. He fell, but I found someone else to play with. Mummy says it's fun to be nice, so I'll be nice and play with them all, I'll play with everyone.