Tag Archives: violence

Poetry Tuesday: Bared Bones

Bared Bones

 

Grave bons dropping dust,

Crossed at the old master’s feet.

Creaking and bleating their lonely cries.

Left with unrest in their defeat.

 

Dry bone, marrow turned to stone,

Tossed at the blind king’s throne,

No One left at the hearth,

No Sons to take them home.

 

Cold bones, wrapped in parchment flesh,

Shuddering in the darkness, in suspense.

Not a memory of theirs remains.

Yet, still these ones draw breath.

 

Hot bones bathed in red,

Upon theĀ soaked bloody ground, abandoned.

No tomb for them but where they fall,

In a field so far from home.

 

-Megan

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Arriving in the middle

This next bit comes from an urban-fantasy idea. I know, I know. Urban-fantasy is the nouveau pulp, made popular by a few skilled authors (I nod to Butcher, Briggs, and Hearne here), and butchered by the hands of dozens who want to jump on the band-wagon (more times than I care to count have I picked up an interesting book, only to want to kill myself by the third chapter due to the lack of skill spilled over the pages). There is little context prior to this scene, save that there is a mounting tension; the current local pack alpha (yes, werewolves. I know, right?) is a bit lax about territorial boundaries, and our heroine (at this point, really not quite a heroine, more of an adopted run-away) is about to have a very uncomfortable re-connection with her past, which will throw the current heretical structure into a horrible battle for dominance. Ineffectual leaders who do not take the security of their territory as paramountly important will find that overlooked beta members are not as heel-licking as they seem. I know exactly where this one is going in my head, it is mapped out down to the conclusion, even as far as an epilogue.

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