cyber bullyA Poem by h d e rushinwhat does bullying ever accomplish?
I dare you. Anyone. Alive. Dead. Those from Valhalla where the heroes of mythology are received. Acheron. Stygian. Those from Hell. Reasonable. Un. Big. Plumage. Purple, apple red eyes. You, with the forearms like Noah (because every animal wont go peacefully). Those who may just sit on my chest like Baby Huey did iconally, with the scowl of Luca Brasi; to snicker at my yellow, flower folder that kept my lower jaw and poems of blood and herb hidden from the light. The six inch heel that broke off in the hall. Yes, the one that had me walking like Emily Dickinson after the lonesome, virginal night.
Anyway. The Chrysler wont start in the rain. It's motor sounding as tears would if tears were the product of drunken, overworked men. I've been pushed. Tormented. Not spoken to. Long before computers, there was this legend of a trillion Facebook friends, all jostling for a warm place in an after-thought I might have, had the nymphs mistook me in the dim, crumpled corner.
Yet the river, still dirty, is a Devanagari diety, where the sweet alphabet perch, the silver bass still jump cononical in imaginary boats. All real, I too thought of beauty to be suspended in a solution of loud thoughts. Soaring above bird and sky until the pee ran down my leg. But only this time in a valley of calculated strength. Don't dare keep me from this dream!
"Bade the shepherds tell their tale of sheep and pen them in the fold", Virgil wrote. In other words, keep your sanity, pure victim, till you die. © 2013 h d e rushinReviews
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Added on October 15, 2013Last Updated on October 15, 2013 |

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