Psychic Vampire

Image by Dina Dee from Pixabay

you

wonder

why I like

to write about

vampires and all that sort of nonsense.

some vampires drain joy rather than blood.

I am a fool

wasting time

in your

lair.

 notes

Today's prompt gives me an opportunity to tell off a shitty ex-boyfriend (sadly, I have far too many of those) who fancied himself a true artiste and scoffed at my pedestrian tastes.

https://experiencewriting.com/2023/10/16/oct-16-prompts-sexy-blood-suckers/

Interestingly, this guy was apparently a descendant from the line of Dracula. The Romanian prince, not the fictional character. Sure, he could have just been saying that, but he did have a mild case of porphyria, so who knows.

The form is a tetratata...tatatetra..tecerata...oh, hell, I'm just going to cut and paste from the website.

http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/tetractys.html

Tetractys, a poetic form invented by Ray Stebbing, consists of at least 5 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 10 syllables (total of 20). Tetractys can be written with more than one verse, but must follow suit with an inverted syllable count. Tetractys can also bereversed and written 10, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Double Tetractys: 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1

Triple Tetractys: 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 10

and so on.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

https://odysee.com/@MichaelGhelfi:c/1-hour-of-combat-music-the-last:4?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

I enjoy writing with Michael Ghelfi's epic soundtracks.

November PAD Challenge 2022: Day 22: Leaving the Casino

 

Image by Peter Lomas from Pixabay

I quit my job at the casino

22 years ago

at first, it all seemed so enchanting

but beneath the veneer of glamour

the cracks quickly began to show

people losing two hundred dollars to chase twenty

their paychecks floating away

after that elusive jackpot

always on the horizon

was just one reason I couldn't stay

gambling wasn't much of a draw for me

but I was still looking for "the one"

I had propositions aplenty

for love that's rotten to the core

of these I wanted none

I hung my hopes, like always

on the absolute wrong kind of guy

believing a man's public face

is who he really is inside

is a spectacularly useless skill of mine

don't go looking for something outside you

to heal the trauma within

there are plenty of parasites in the world

hoping to make a meal out of you

after they get under your skin

I ran from my mistakes once more

just like I always do

I wasn't cut out to be a gambler

'cause chasing love or money

just leaves me simmering in my own stew

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by Tanja from Pixabay

Ornery Owl Says: 

Never believe you can find happiness under a veneer of bright lights and glitter. In the light of day when the dust has settled, the cracks will always show.

notes and prompts used

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2022-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-22

Prompt: Write a love or anti-love poem

If you know me at all, you know which direction I'm gonna go with this.

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2022/11/19/october-31-2/

Prompt:

balancing across the bridge of your nose for a moment, there is a $20 bill [or your currency’s equivalent of a useful but not exciting amount of money].

The ball is now in play.

https://imprompt.wordpress.com/2022/11/21/day-21/

Prompt:

You have been given an ability, one you can depend on utterly. 

My ability is picking men who are going to hurt me.

It is a very bad and stupid ability.

I refuse to use it ever again.

today's playlist

I listened to this one yesterday too

You might say it's tried and true

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/deus-ex-human-revolution-detroit-20:1?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

This one's really cool and eerie

It will clear your mind when you're feeling weary

https://odysee.com/@GamingAmbience:6/deus-ex-human-revolution-detroit-17:7?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16

30 Days of Haiga 2022: Love is Poison

 

text

is it chemicals

is there any depth to it

when you fall in love?

notes

This Haiga was inspired by the Tuesday Writing Prompt (words depth and chemicals).

https://godoggocafe.com/2022/09/13/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-september-13-2022/

I created the background in Pixlr.com with a free-use image by Arek Socha.

https://pixabay.com/illustrations/poison-bottle-medicine-old-symbol-1481596/

You are welcome to use the Haiga, but please credit Cara Hartley/Ornery Owl and provide a link back to this blog.

Also sharing with:

Haiku My Heart

corazon.typepad.com

Senryu: Two Hearts

Image by Goran Horvat from Pixabay

do hearts beat as one

does a broken soul get crushed

beneath brutal will

~cie~

November PAD Chapbook Challenge Day 24: A Dialogue

you had my heart

I only wanted a hookup

you should have said so

you took the chance

you shouldn't lie

you should be more careful who you trust

you should be ashamed

but you're the one who is

how can you be so heartless?

it's your fault for thinking with your heart

why do you think cruel is cool?

I'm not the one sitting home crying

you're a miserable liar

you're the one who feels like dying

I did everything you wanted

and now I'll find someone else to do the same

you are the worst

but I won't take the blame

you are the lowest

but you carry the shame

~Cie~

Notes:

Today's November PAD Chapbook Challenge asked for a dialogue poem. I had this terrible conversation all too many times in my younger days when my self-esteem was at its worst and I let bad guys do terrible things to me in the vain hope that they would love me back. Being the cold-hearted bitch that I get accused of being when I rebuff the advances of jerks who think I should consider myself lucky that they're paying attention to me is far better than being broken-hearted and feeling used.

November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2019: Day 7: Angie Blue

Image by Alexander Lesnitsky from Pixabay

in a time that came and went long ago

whether I was taking down my walking cane and hat

or wrapped up in my bell-bottom blues

I guess you could call me Angie Blue

I was that girl who lived my life in the songs I heard

on the rock and roll radio

I dreamed of wide spaces and endless love

and maybe if I'd been pretty

instead of an ugly duckling girl

maybe I'd have found something more

than fire that quickly turned to ice

and shallow-hearted boys looking for a hookup

that didn't last any longer than a song

you could call me Angie Blue

the ugly duckling girl who learned the truth

that there will never be a prince who rides along the sea and the mountain

my collection of colorful hats now sit collecting dust

my walking cane is now used to support

a body that doesn't work very well

the boys who wanted a good-time girl

are now middle-aged men cheating on their wives

with foolish young women not much older than I was then

I suppose it was better to live my truth

then to get caught up in a web

of love that was no more than lies

but I have been lonely

there is no one and only

unless you count only lonely me

footloose in my mind

with a body that can't dance in reality

and not so fancy or free at all

~Cie~

Note:

The November PAD Chapbook Challenge prompt for today asked for a poem about an article of clothing. I thought about the song Rubber Band Man which begins: "hand me down my walking cane, hand me down my hat" and of another favorite song from the same era, Bell Bottom Blues. The rest of it just flowed. The other songs referenced are Albatross, Angie Baby, At Seventeen, Endless Love, Factory Girl, Fire and Ice, Footloose, Jackie Blue, and Only the Lonely.

I was never the pretty girl that all the boys wanted to take to the dance. I was always the ugly duckling that sat on the sidelines, and guys sometimes asked me to dance if they thought that someone as dowdy as me would be desperate enough to do what they wanted. Usually, I knew better, which made them angry.

NaPoWriMo 2019 Day 29+ Poems in April Day 29: Asking Questions With Eyes Rolled Back

Image by Tumisu from Pixabay

Annoying content warning:

Poem contains profanity

If you have a problem with that, don't read it

Were you born to ramble

Or do you just run when things get serious

Do you read Baudelaire

Or do you just claim to do whatever makes you seem educated

Are you the kind who has to go and shoot your rockets everywhere

Do you know how many of your kind I've known

Do you know that you bore me to death

Do you know that you aren't nearly as slick as you think you are

Do you know that I'm sick of driving around with my eyes closed

Do you know that I can smell your bullshit from a mile away

Do you know I already know that this feeling doesn't go both ways, no matter what you say

Do you know how utterly fucking transparent you are

Do you know that I got sick of guys like you a long time ago

Do you know that I no longer waste my time on time wasters

Do you know that I don't abide liars

Why don't you crawl back under the rock that you crawled out from in the first place

Do you know that you seem like a creep rather than a suave, smooth sheik

Do you know that I'm sick of guys like you who think they can crawl into a woman's heart and tear it apart without a second thought for what they've done

Did you know I'm done

Did you know I'm long past done

Did you know I'm already gone

~Cie~

Notes:

NaPoWriMo asked for a poem which reflects in a calm way on a subject that is generally emotionally charged.

Poems in April asked for a poem made up of questions.

In my younger days, I constantly berated myself, wondering what I did wrong to draw only the worst kind of guys to me.

The fact of the matter is, these guys were predators and clowns. 

They were the kind of guys who deliberately seek out someone with low self-esteem because they think they will have an easier chance of getting laid with someone who is insecure.

A joker of this caliber isn't worth anybody's time. 

I can reflect on it calmly now because I despise the whole dating/mating dance and refuse to play that game anymore.

It hurt me a lot back then. But from my current vantage point, I can honestly say, it wasn't me, it was them.

Song References:

NaPoWriMo 2019: Day 23 + Poems in April Day 23: Be Careful What You Wish For: A Terrifying Tanka

Copyright simon-wijers-37848-unsplash

There was a time when

The only thing I wanted

Was to taste your kiss

Now I can't seem to get rid

Of the taste of your decay

~Cie~

Poems in April: Day 10: In Thrall

Image by prettysleepy1 from Pixabay

Have you ever been in thrall

Of someone who was just so

Bad and so entirely wrong

You walk in heart wide open

Know your heart will be broken

But you can't resist the pull

Though you know that it's a lie

You can kiss your life goodbye

~Pepper Baiij for Kris Rooiakker~

Notes:

This poem has some 'splainin' to do.

First, why would I take on ANOTHER daily challenge when I'm already involved with two of them?

I could blame the bipolar disorder, but I think the truth is, I'm genuinely insane. I'm not referring to the bipolar disorder part. That's mental illness. Mental illness is not insanity. Insanity is knowing something isn't realistic and doing it anyway. I have a proven track record of insanity.

The second factor involved here is my intent to finally publish a book of my poetry at the end of the year. I don't need to worry about publishers who insist that only previously unpublished works appear. The book will be published by Team Netherworld Creations, a seedy little independent press of which I am the Head Buttmunch in Charge. I don't have such rules. With any book I publish, whether it is written by me or someone else, the author retains all rights to do whatever they want with their material at any time.

Now, about the poem.

The poetry form is Jueju. I wrote two quatrains with seven syllables in each line.

Pepper Baiij is the female protagonist in Team Netherworld's long-running WIP, Fetch. The first chapter of this tale emerged in November 2014. The work is nowhere near ready for publication, but new chapters and poems are always emerging. Maybe someday we'll actually have a finished product.

Kris Rooiakker is an actor with whom Pepper became obsessed in her younger days. He is a psychic vampire. He found Pepper on the astral plane and took advantage of her vulnerability and low self-esteem. Pepper's obsession with Kris cooled many years ago, but he doesn't like being ignored. He keeps coming back to pester her.

The prompt asked writers to grab a book and find a sentence, then:

Use all the words of this sentence in a poem

OR

Pick a word or phrase from this sentence for the title of your poem

OR

Use a part or the entirety of this sentence as the first or the last line of your poem

Now, as it happens, I had the manuscript for Carnal Invasion VI: The Dark Delights of Mistress Kali open for reference in working on the forthcoming Carnal Invasion XI: Good Sports. (I am also the Head Buttmunch in Charge of Naughty Netherworld Press, which is Team Netherworld Creations' lust-crazed sibling.) I found a sentence suitable for public consumption and used the words "in thrall" for the title of the poem and in the first line of the poem. Here is the original sentence.

“No, Jefe, she ain’t hurt, but she in thrall of La Jefa,” Krystal whispered. “You can peek in, sí, but don’t say nothin’. Like I say, we don’t wanna end up being prisoners.”

If you are interested in learning more about the series of novels that this book came from, visit the Naughty Netherworld Press blog, where you will find snippets from the stories and links to purchase the books.

~Cie~

OctPoWriMo 2018: Day 12: Affliction

Copyright Kellepics

Why did you have to afflict yourself on me?

Why did you invade my dreams and haunt my days?

Excruciating need, I could not get free

Like a psychotic demon child who plays

Bringing torment to his victim's mind and soul

Agonizing want for one who never stays

Heart afflicted with the pain you live to dole

Is there no-one to appease, to bring me aid?

Where do I find comfort and regain control?

Someone heal, soothe, and relieve me, I have prayed

Free me from a man who just wants to get laid

~Pepper~

Note:

This piece is created in the voice of Team Netherworld's OC, Pepper Baiij, for our WIP, Fetch. The poem "honors" one Kris Rooiakker, a living person who took advantage astrally of the sensitive and troubled medium for many years before she finally found the strength to break free.

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 17: Dancing In The Web

Image copyright Olha Shtepa

OctPoWriMo 2015: 

Day 17: 

Dancing In The Web

Caught in the middle of your web of self-hate

Injecting yourself with venom each day

You used me as a bandage for your wounds

I wanted so much to be your savior

I tried to free you, but you put up your defenses

Caught in the middle of your web of self-hate

I tried to love you, in return you abused me

I only wanted to make you stop

Injecting yourself with venom each day

I wanted to be your only love

You fooled around with so many other girls

You used me as a bandage for your wounds

~Thalia~

Cascade, a form created by Udit Bhatia, is all about receptiveness, but in a smooth cascading way like a waterfall. The poem does not have any rhyme scheme; therefore, the layout is simple. Say the first verse has three lines. Line one of verse one becomes the last line of verse two. To follow in suit, the second line of verse one becomes the last line of verse three. The third line of verse one now becomes the last line of verse four, the last stanza of the poem. See the structure example below:

a/b/c, d/e/A, f/g/B, h/i/C

Notes:

Is it pathetic that I'll be 50 years old on Halloween and my first girlfriend broke my heart so badly that I've never been able to have a relationship since? I suppose it might be. 

I don't want people feeling sorry for me or thinking my life has been wasted. It hasn't. I've had fun in spite of the inevitable visits from the Black Dog. I'm a bit of an introvert, but I do have friends. I'm happy being my niece and nephew's favorite Auntie Thalia. I've just always been afraid to try to get into a relationship again. 

I met my girlfriend when we were both fourteen, but we didn't get involved until two years later. It was all on the down-low, although I think people suspected. Being out wasn't even an option in those days, at least not where we lived. I dreamed of going somewhere like San Francisco where we would be accepted. 

She believed that she could somehow be "cured" if she just "lost her virginity." She fooled around with guys, and it didn't cure her. She blamed me for holding her back and fooled around with other girls to spite me. She called me all kinds of ugly names. She physically abused me. She flaunted other girls in my face. I believed if I just loved her enough, she'd come to love me in return and we could live happily ever after.

I broke up with her on my eighteenth birthday. I knew she could never love me back because she hated herself so much. It was the hardest thing I ever did. I cried every day for more than a year afterwards.

I didn't long for her to return to me. She did far too much damage for me to ever take her back. I stopped loving her a long time ago, but the legacy from our relationship is me being unable to open myself up to love again. 

She died nine years ago from an overdose of X. I don't believe she ever stopped hating herself.

Beliefs such as "homosexuality is a sin" and "we can cure homosexuality" are so destructive. If anyone takes anything away from my story, let it be this. People are people, love is love. Let's support each other rather than tear each other down. Life is hard enough.

I forgive you, Ingrid. I wish you had learned to accept yourself.

Peace,

Thalia

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 14: Connections

Image Source

Connections

I stood on the bridge

Between yesterday and tomorrow

And thought how my life seems

To be rife with missed connections

To be plagued with wrong connections

To be lacking in strong connections

There are all too many times

When I found myself burning bridges

To places I never again wanted to go

I made too many bad connections

Being so desperate for special connections

I held on to destructive connections

The difference between then and now

Is that I know that I deserve better

Than to be treated like I belong in a dumpster

Just because I don't look like a doll

Just because I don't play the right games

Just because I don't have the right connections

~Dolly~

OctPoWriMo 2015: Day 9: The Elements of Heartbreak

The Elements of Heartbreak

When it rains

She feels as if the water

Is trying to douse the flickering ember

Which ignited her heart

In a spark

The fire is gone from his heart

But not from hers

She tries to find balance

In earthy things

Since he left her stranded

Alone in the frozen wastes

Of her dreams for their love

The sun rises

But does not warm her

A cool breeze blows

Calming like the sound of whispered hellos

Whipping up into a windstorm

Blowing out of control

Devastating everything she has known

In a cyclone of lies

And unexpected goodbyes

Dedicated to the ladies in my life who have known heartbreak. 

Love,

Adam

Credits:

Top Image:

http://siliconangle.com/blog/2013/05/13/software-steals-hardwares-girlfriend-it-world-changes-its-relationship-status/heartbreak-2/

Second Image:

Andrew Dodson, model Beverly Tan

https://www.facebook.com/adodsonphoto

Third and fourth images:

Beverly Tan

http://facebook.com/beverlytanphotography

Wicked Lies

Wicked Lies

You blew into my life

Like a storm that destroys everything exposed and not tied down

Your appetite was ravenous

Resulting in the consumption of my self-respect

Time and time again, you proved yourself a liar

As you went on a rampant rampage

Ravishing every man who lurks in low places

Hoping for something sweet to bring redemption to his bitter soul

Then you would crawl up from the caverns like a thief in the night

Making noise about desiring a revival of our bond

The first time I believed

The second time I convinced myself

The third time I saw that what I held in my hand

Was a vestige of

What never was

I finally scattered the ashes of the lie that was our love to the wind

And let you go forever

It was the best thing I ever did for myself

~Adam~

Created for The Reverie

Adam's notes: 

This poem draws on my toxic relationship with my previous boyfriend. I am happy to say that I am now with the man of my dreams, six years strong and married in Hawaii as of this Halloween!

Deadly Infection

Evil man

Fickle to the core

You infect me with desire

Then tear your love away

I must have misinterpreted your intent

I must have been drunk on the nectar of your kisses

I thought I was safe in the womb of your arms

The coldness of your heart chills me to the marrow

I believed we were together in another life

That we had been lovers since ancient times

But the ritual which drew you back into my life

Must have been an evil one

I now want only to fly away like the sparrow

To hide in hibernation from the world

No wine nor drug nor holistic herb

Will ever heal the scars you left upon my soul

~Gretyll~

Written for The Reverie

The Words:

Marrow from Desiree

Fickle from Faycin

Hibernation from Ann

Infect from Mel

Misinterpreted from Serins

Holistic from Staci

Sparrow from Franz

Nectar from Mark

Ancient from Crow

Ritual from Hasty

Womb from Laura

OctPoWriMo 2014: Day 15

Copyright: Fotosmurf / 123RF Stock Photo

Oft Bitten, Infinitely Shy

I once was such a loving soul

So open to the idea that my prince would come

So receptive to the love that he would bring

But all too many times I became attracted to men who made me sad

I stuck it out with men who mistreated me

Because I didn't want to give up on love too quickly

These days I'm hesitant to open myself up even halfway

I'm skeptical that I'll ever find love

I'm not the sort who likes hollow flirtation or casual flings

For me, there is no middle ground

It's love or nothing

Nothing is better than something that's nothing but wrong

~Sally~

Notes:

I would actually prefer that people refrain from giving pep talks about there being someone special out there, not to give up, etc. I am in my middle years and am not crestfallen at the idea that I will never find "love." Listening to the encouragement not to "give up" prompted me to get involved in relationships that were anything but healthy and stick with them because my "standards were too high" and I had to "give him a chance."

I'm happy for those who have found love, such as Team Netherworld's own Adam (Dylan), Aurora (Nils), and Sadie + Seth. Not everyone gets lucky like they have, and no-one should feel like half a person if they haven't found a partner. I'm happier without one at this juncture.

However, I'm still sappy enough that I like to write about certain of our characters being in love!

Word Prompts:

Halfway
Middle
Stuck
Open
Love

Feeling Words:

Receptive
Loving
Attracted
Skeptical
Hesitant

I am unsure who the artist is. If anyone knows, I will be happy to credit them. 

It isn't a Team Netherworld member--we wish one of us had been this clever!