Author: dancingpalmtrees

An African/Native American Queen, Wordsmith, Photographer, Free Spirit and Teacher.

The Chatty Grim Reaper: Boneyard Blessings

On By dancingpalmtreesIn The Chatty Grim Reaper: Boneyard Blessings, Uncategorized2 Comments

 

 

The Chatty Grim Reaper: Boneyard Blessings

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Theater in Odd Places Consisting of Ossified Cryto Currencies.

We are nothing but Dinosaur Dust hurtling through space with Vulgarisms protruding through our flesh. When we kissed I bit your upper lip causing noxious steamy yellow fluid to vomit through the pierced flesh.  Running my hands over your gossamer cadaver skin your bones like speed bumps rising up from frail crepe paper skin.

Frothing and foaming wounds litter the barren wasteland of your corporeal form. Akin to tiny screaming faces each with multiple eyes are trying yet failing to focus.

Small mutants have big effects.  There is a gentle rustling of leaves in your dry straw snap crackling spiked hairdo.  What beautiful environs once dwelt there!  Many deviant burials await ghostly futures.

Caverns echo distinct indecisive bleats converging remnants.  Trees glistened with slow leaking spicy sweet sap. Then I espied a room. A hidden room within a room. Behind dusty drapes, rickety table, equally dust covered furniture and moldering books. Every so often some turgid eruptions of heat issued forth from age old radiators threatening to baptize the yellowing linoleum floor.

Lithesome yet loathsome creatures sporting bulbous backsides and Smothering massive mammeries recently escaped from local slaughterhouses. Tapestry’s warmth yielded a hothouse pouring sweat glands raining down salty perspiration betwixt those pendulous udders.

Come Now Angel of Death! I’m Ready for My Selfie!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

L Train Views & Vistas from Broadway Junction
Mini Cars, Brooklyn, NY
Psycho Barn House

 

The Chatty Grim Reaper: Nocturnes for the Soul

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Fusion Poetry, Hodgepodge Poetry, Poems, Poetry, Prose and Poetry, The Chatty Grim Reaper: Nocturnes for the Soul, Uncategorized5 Comments

 

 

 

 

The Chatty Grim Reaper: Nocturnes for the Soul

A City on a Rock besieged all around by infidels and invaders. 

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Raging battles lasting in to the night and well into the next day. It would seem that the chaos would never end. But as the Wise Sage expounded A City on a Hill Cannot be hid.

Stalwart Warriors All We fight on through desolation and isolation Courage and Bravery never ends.  In the midst of conflict appears the Delirium Room.  Then I realized that this was not my room any more and I needed to be transported to a Brand New Room.  Amidst the two natures of man were two doorways Repulsion and Attraction.

Please Forward me a Small Studiolo Fully Furnished which I will name the Studio of Despair.  I caught wisps of ghosts and they need somewhere to stay for just a fortnight.

Treacherous wild climbing Ivy Kudzu unraveling flower like tentacles encasing the living into the dead.

 

 

 

The Struggle of the Two Natures in Man
The Struggle of the Two Natures in Man George Grey Barnard (American, Bellefonte, Pennsylvania 1863–1938 New York)

 

Obsidian gave way to Dayforming Gold Rays

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Island of the Damned - Bocklin

 

 

 

 

A City on a Rock 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Massacre of the Innocents
Gamepiece with a Dead Heron (“Falconer’s Bag”) Jan Weenix

 

The Chatty Grim Reaper: The Thickening Darkness of Blank Pages

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Fusion Poetry, Hodgepodge Poetry, Poems, Poetry, Prose and Poetry, Struggle Dance, The Chatty Grim Reaper: The Thickening Darkness of Blank Pages, Uncategorized6 Comments

 

 

The Chatty Grim Reaper: The Thickening Darkness of Blank Pages

 

A world teeming with Virtual Minutiae

Augmented Faces

Neural Networks

Mutilated Mannequins

Naked Apartments and Gypsy Housing

 

Soul Transporter + The Splattering of feet and ideas

You espied my Loneliness as a Thickening of the Darkness surrounding my soul

 

Sneaker Coffin
Sneaker Coffin @ The Brooklyn Museum

 

Pages Intentionally Left Blank

 

I can hear the screech of seagulls in the distance cruelly circling scavenging viscera from my nightmares

 

Struggle Dance

 

Packs of rats that eat anything and everything in their way including each other.

Finding her broken battered sliced up body parts he put her in a box labeled No Return

I lay there atop the early morning dawn beach. Sand in my hair, face and mouth. I spit out some grains as I slowly and painfully tried to raise myself up to at least a sitting position whilst waves of nausea assaulted my digestive track sending me onto the Vomitus Express.  Vomit make it’s way up into my throat alternately gagging and heaving in full effect. Nightmarish odors entangled my olfactory system worsening my hold on this world and imperiling me towards the next.

Propping myself up on the heels of my hands I could then see that the stench came from horribly mutilated bodies scattered all across the beach some not more than a few inches away.  Bodies once human now a mangled mashup of guts, brain matter, blood and feces decomposing along with rotting undigested remnants of their last meals.

Horrid stench but even worse how did I get here?

 

Gamepiece with a Dead Heron (“Falconer’s Bag”) Jan Weenix
Psycho Barn House

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Straight Down the Line

On By dancingpalmtreesIn Uncategorized5 Comments

 

Barbara Stanwyck is one of my favorite Old Time Movie Actresses. Many aspects of her personality resonate with me. I’m a Tough Woman. Born and Raised in the School of Hard Knocks. Also I tend to be brutally blunt. No filters. Meaning I will tell you exactly how I feel.  Don’t ask me what I think about a subject unless you’re prepared for the brutal honest truth.  Yes I do have a bad temper which I usually keep in check unless you keep pushing that B-Button and the B does not stand for Beautiful.

No Rose Colored Glasses. I run a No Bullshit Zone. If you say or do something I don’t like I will tell you right, quick and in a hurry. I tend to keep people at a distance. I will Close the Door on you and Never Ever Look back.  I’m not the traditional, submissive, milquetoast female.

I’ve been abandoned and betrayed so often that No I don’t trust anyone.  So people either accept how I am or they can Fuck Off. Pick one. I don’t suffer fools gladly.  Keep your Dumbfuckery to yourself.  I stick up for the underdog. Those that society has cast to the side. I can’t stand cruelty to animals, the elderly, disabled or anyone who is unable to fight back.  I don’t like bullies.  I understand weakness. It is not a character flaw. For some it takes a while to rise above the fear. I’ve not been entirely successful but I’m getting there.

My Dad had an expression, “Don’t Mistake kindness for weakness.”  In the Army we had an expression, “Don’t let you mouth write checks that your ass can’t cash.”

Straight. No Chaser.

I’m a Survivalist. My horns are holding up my halo.  My broken halo.

You either Love me or hate me. But always Respect me.