The Hunter

He hunted me over deserts and tumble weeds
It moved like a bounty hunter and had leads on me
When I last saw him in Dakota in 1846 he bloodied my nose.
I got away on his horse
Posters over dry land.
He searched for me
I moved like a vagabond, running from the ripper
I was a ghost
I thought I had escaped the hunters grip
It scoured taverns, speakeasies and bath houses looking for me
I was clumbsy
Running from the hunter
I was set up
Ambushed by love
Betrayed
It caught me off guard
It checked me
We tussled
Dragged me by my hair
Like a fuckin’ cave man
To the tavern
While the towns people watched in horror
Some laughed and held the wanted posters up
Pointing fingers
Again
It bloodied my nose
I chuckled
Then stumbled back
I spit
Spit my death in his face
And I laughed
Wickedly
And it shot me!
And I bled
And I bled out

He took a shot of that dirty whisky
Hand on gun

Tilted his hat

Looked around
And said…
Pay me


The hunter

https://soundcloud.com/mentalnotes-1/audio-recording-on-saturday-1

LaBella

 

My sweet LaBella

Secrets are taking over me

For

I have to make room in my soul

They have nowhere to call home

Throw off your shackles and lead your life

Labelle

They pester me like ticks on a man’s skin

My heart has no purpose

My soul

My poor soul is ravished

You laid a leach on my heart

 

On my soul!

 

Unburden these chains

Do you have the secret tablets?

Who possesses the secrets to bliss?

 

Who!

 

Cement our future

Pregnant me with imagination

I have not yet read a poet that compelled me to read him

Continuously

With blood on my hands

My soul cries out

Cut out my heart!

Snatch the locks from my head

If I am not cured of this distain you will forfeit your vitals

They know you love me king??

I promise I will return and grow old by your side

Throw of your shackles and lead your life

Resign from this tyrant of tongues

Is winning everything?

Or is knowing?

I will place my hands on your crown

And place it on my sons head

Those that will breathe this life in the next millennium

What sad souls

I am riding the embers of these aches

 

I am LaBella

And I will die alone

A wrinkled

Old slut   

http://hastywords.wordpress.com/2013/04/14/help-me-celebrate/

The above is Hasty’s request for her one year anniversary in blogging and I was more than happy to meet the challenge

This third duet was done with a sort of Word Smith http://seanbidd.com/2013/03/26/beyond-the-dry-grass/ 

I have loved you for over two thousand years

If I could find you in a million faces

Your place

A speak-easy

They’re a million faces of you…

I can smell only traces of you

Residue and relics lost

I’m caught between worlds searching to find silk just as soft

Behold the tares of 18th Century gods

Held in high regard

Amongst our tethered Frey

Searching for the most qualified rhetorician

To convince the gods of something tangible today

 

Once again

Here

Caught

Caught in our slow dance

Oh I love that way

The way your words

They climb through the seasons

And give them meaning

Till here we are

With the wild sea roses

As they rise up, upon each wave of sand

Can you tell me, the direction we’re headed?

Spirit, lover, soul mate

We are headed towards ripples of sand storms

Slaying beast that come between our worlds that were torn

Through old lovers and street huggers

We are headed towards cowboys and Indians

And will move rummage any kin to them

We are headed towards Transylvania

Where we were first bitten

Socrates, Plato and Aristotle will gather the town hall

They will convince them all of why we should be together

We are headed towards Jack the Ripper, Shakespeare and Vladimir

Mozart, Beethoven and acapellas with compose a song for us

You must purchase for me a Mona Lisa or a Moana

For when the gods brings us together

It seems like centuries till the day

And not even I will tire of this search

This unquenchable thirst

So I search this bruised place leaving not one crevice untraced

I time travel

Skimming the surface

Searching

For

You

 

Whisper it loud into the storm’s wild wind

Let the gods give Romeo and Juliet their chance to start all over again

To take us flying above with your songs

Where each atmosphere

Sweats thick with your thoughts

If I could find you in a million faces

Your place

A speak-easy

They’re a million faces of you

I have loved you for over two thousand years 

And the gods have denied our request

And now

 We roam this bruised place

Obsessed

Chasing

Only traces

Of you

And so

 We time travel

 

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