Poisoned Letters Gossip Black Widow Spiders Roses Jealousy Love Poems
Poisoned Letters
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  "I Give You Red Roses"  Stared and clenched the rose filled baskets, Knelt before their wooden caskets. Cater cousins, bosom friends, Once sure, they were dear friends. Authentic, pure, my blood and gut, Cherished chums, loved clearcut, Anointed sisters, seperate wombs, faces all agrin, Singing, laughing, trusting all, my dear pretend blood kin. Often vowed they, chocking, croaking, "our friendship never broken." Suddenly, their hidden dagger of words, Plunged deep within my back, Bare, exposed, heartbroken. Here before their wooden caskets, Stare and clench the rose filled baskets. Touch a face and short dark tress, Bewildered embitterment can't surpress. Trembling, choking, cannot swallow, Plead, be freed my heart, now dead, hollow... Can't forget your gleaming scheming, Squeamish clacks, blasphemies screaming. Via your carcasses, malodorous clay, Preserves your bodies from decay, Can't restrain this cunning madness, Can't cut off this crafty gladness, Deep my lungs explosive laughter, The Queens' are dead, foreverafter. Charading, masquerading, maiden tattletales, Can't forgive you, lethal tiny snails. Wham! Bam! Slam! Be damn! Once alleged sisters, now, tabby madames, Hiss! Hiss! Hiss your names, my throat now dry and hoarse. I, heir of your villainy, bequeath iniquity Upon your inhumane immortal vital force. Ancient twerps, miniature models of distortion, Frightening! How invincible hatred consumes me, Obliterating all other emotions. Unhealthy intricate brain waves inspire ruin be sown. Love? Compassion? Forgiveness? Become foreign words from galaxies unknown. So unwholesome, unto death, The earth swallows you whole, And trembles in shame, Plunge, replica serpents, thrash in soil your vile remains. Face to face with Beelzebub, waxlike and cold, Appollyon evil? Hah! The Queens' are tenfold! Poor tiny snails, so snug in your caskets, So unimpressed by my offerings, Of my red rose filled baskets. So very unimpressed...  ~Laverne © Three Little Spiders  Invisible words of gossip, lips spewing juices of hate. Surrogate gods, detestable clacks, encircling bottomless pits. Squating in place, hushed in soft whisper, keenly, malicious cremate. Carnivorous vultures cloaked in shrouds of destruction, luring quarry by harps and seranade. Digesting faults untrue, inside your rancid hearts. Dolorous prophets, chanting spasms of lies, tainted in my blood. Three little spiders, praying prostrate before the cross, as ruined slaughter, etch their ancient scrolls. Primitive parasites, with accusing criss crossed fingers, in silenced shame shame. "Devoted fidelity, loyal and true," vowed these odious spiders of jest. Deeply embedded fingerprints of malignant sores, upon my weary dreary soul, you left. Black widows spiders, of viperous slander, One, Two and Three, you drained my fertile life, and embraced with a smile of death my name... ~La verne©
It is a miserable thing
Society
"Gossip, pretending to have the eyes of argus, |
 Love Secrets Hmmm? Provocative!
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