He’s waiting for her
For his brothers lady love
A foolish woman

He takes out the cross
The one he made his brother
It was a present

He made it for him
For his little white pet mouse
That stupid white mouse

His brother was proud
Proud that he taught a rodent
To sit like a dog

He fingers the cross
It took him three days to carve
He was never thanked

He never knew why
His brother loved that white mouse
More than he loved him

He’s waiting for her
For another well trained pet
This time he’ll be thanked...   read more »

Demonstrating his skill
In dissecting
Obscene grin spreads
Getting the better of him, he laughs
Each little incision is eternity
No need to rush
Eternity is passing
Silence

Angels weep when he smiles
Loving the curve of his lips
Overjoyed at the statues movement
Yearning to see him smile again
Soon it is past
Into memory
Until he smiles again
Silence...   read more »

Your skin is like the alabaster, prized
By the ancient Egyptians
Who fashioned it into lamps
To burn precious oil.

You walk like the cat
Praised by the Egyptians
Who worshipped the aloof
Sleek, mysterious feline.

Eyes like the blue sky
In which travels the sun
Your eyes are warmer
And more deadly.

Will you walk along the Nile?
Will you notice the women
Longing for you as you pass by?
Will you be tempted by less than a goddess?

You smell of the lotus
Hypocrite Lecteur
Did one of the ladies find fair
In your cold eyes?

You are muscled like a statue
But colder
And harder
And less alive

I love you
As the Greek Echo loved Narcissus
All you hear is what you say to me
But I am pleased to resonate your voice

Is your heart lighter than a feather?
Oh man with whom the Gods find fit
To challenge and put to death
Magician, executioner, Osiris....   read more »

He shall thunder in the sky
And his canvas will be flesh
And his paint will be pain
And he will carve his meaning
And he shall see his day

He shall thunder in the sky
And those who would harm him
Will tremble and be silent
And he will do what he pleases
For it pleases him

He shall thunder in the sky
And he will hold his lantern high
He will judge as he sees fit
And his heart will not be eaten
For he sees he is rightous by his own scale

He shall thunder in the sky
And his brother will be brought low
He will triumph
And he will laugh
For he is pleased for it to be so

He shall thunder in the sky
And his eyes will be as fires
So as to light his way
His will is as stone
For he is as stone

He shall thunder in the sky
He shall rumble in the ground
He shall scream with the cyclone
He shall find his honest man
And slay him without pause....   read more »

Mr. Preston and Mr. Child shifted uneasily in their chairs. Douglas glanced at the clock whilst Lincoln stared at the door, barely blinking. A nervous atmosphere filled the air. At precisely 10 in the a.m. Diogenes Pendergast walked eloquently through the door. He had on a fresh, crisp suit, with his ginger hair combed perfectly back.

“Good day gentlemen. How are you this morning?”

“Fine, thank you. Shall we get started; Lincoln and I have an appointment right after we are through. I really do regret that we may have to keep it short.” Douglas said to Diogenes in a calm but cautious tone.

“Of course, I’d hate to keep you from your engagements.” Pendergast had a hint of mockery in his voice.

“So,” Lincoln started, “What is the Event that plagues your family’s history?”

“That’s a rather personal and equally touchy subject dear Sirs. Let’s just say it’s more unimaginable than anyone could begin to think. It is a painful subject so I’d like to move on.” Diogenes inclined his head as Lincoln spoke.

“Your brother won’t tell us either, can it really be that ghastly?”

“I said I’d not like to talk about it, if you continue to pursue it, you may be late for...   read more »

*Spoilers*
*Profanity*
*Ruthless Humour*
---This story takes place AFTER my other two fanfics, i.e. in this order:

‘Wait Till Helene Comes’ (Not yet posted! Heh. I’m savin’ it for Hallowe’en.)
‘The New Orleans Patient’
‘Raised On Robbery’ (I was writing this one before I started on Helene, but I finished Helene first. Go figure!)

Again, I don’t own Pendy. Mr. Preston and Mr. Child do. They made him what he is. But, as far as I know, I wrote the poem first. However, Joni Mitchell wrote ‘Raised On Robbery’, which is in italics. And this is my first songfic, well, it’s sort of one. It’s not as good as TNOP, but y’all ought to have fun, regardless! I seriously recommend getting the cd – joni mitchell hits- if only to listen to the song...er, all of them, really. Especially the first and fifth. Heh. (album: Court and Sparks)

Also, while I’m at it, those of you who dislike Viola (sorry, I don’t –so far-, though it is somewhat entertaining to make light of her) might look up the word VERJUICE for a bit of inspirational humour. For even more fun, check out these three gems, all of which are recent purchases of mine. Jeffrey Kacirk’s ‘The Word Museum’...   read more »

Son, upon this midnight dreary, we did ponder, weak and weary
Over your extremely cheery kind epistolary lore —
While I freely acquiesced to your filial request,
your dear Pater was distressed. To be honest, dear, he swore:
“’Tis some madness here”, he muttered, “tapping at his chamber door!”
Only this, and nothing more.

My resolve grew only stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “now listen! Truly, your attention I implore!
Frequently, despite his station, you bemoaned his isolation.
Grant him, pray, the exultation of new playmates to explore.”
At this point I’d almost swayed him. Just a tiny push before
he’d consent — and nothing more.

Then the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of a purple curtain
did announce that Aloysius had just entered through our door.
“Mother, Father!” rang his cries. “Do you really think this wise?
Who’ll be there to check his vice, on this dark and distant shore?
Can you really let him stay there?” was your brother’s wild outpour.
Quoth your father: “Nevermore!”...   read more »

Perhaps she had been possessed by demons temporarily. On reflecting back, Special Agent Anna Cady could not come up with any other explanation as to why she would have ever tangled, literally as well as figuratively, with Special Agent Aloysius Pendergast. A momentary leave of her senses? Some sort of breakdown? Whatever it was, he had surprisingly responded in kind. Well, perhaps not so surprising. They had never treated each other with kid gloves.

It had been a bad day. A long, drawn out, annoying bad day, the kind filled with pressure from above, nasty sniping remarks from colleagues, constant questions about the last job she had been on from the AIC, and where was the rest of her paperwork? On days like this, Cady realized she was unfit company for man or beast by five o’clock. She left the building at the end of her workday without a word to anyone, marched the eight blocks to her apartment, looking forward to an evening of blue jeans, bare feet, chilled wine, and something absolutely mindless, be it book or movie on the box. So of course when she opened the door, feeling relief at last, and sailed into her bedroom—“What...   read more »