Skip to main content

The Man Who Was Dressed as the Grim Reaper


On Halloween Eve I attended a feast
Where friends were disguised as brilliant beasts
Amid all the rags of black, grey, and plum
My red dress blotted the floor with red rum
I was the Queen of Hearts for one night
Flattered by men who blushed at my sight
I was a caricature of women who rage
I was a damsel from the Victorian age
Though I was proposed to by all the males
I rejected them at the swish of my scarlet red nails
There was one man, in the corner of the room
Who caused my intrigue to tenderly bloom
He was not a clown, a cowboy, or an ape
He was a skeleton in a flowing black cape
This sort of blasphemy I've never seen
To dress as the Reaper for Halloween
He transformed a holiday of fun and fear
Into a reminder that death is too near
He left to the garden, and I followed and whined
And told him his costume was way out of line
He turned his head and I shuddered at his face
Which was a skeletal, bleached disgrace
"Sir, I demand you unmask your brow!
Your cruel satire is sure not allowed!"
He looked back at me, his eyes but holes
Such a costume! This man had no soul
I grasped on to his face only to reveal
That the ivory white skull was perfectly real
But the touch was more than I could describe
He emitted an almost supernatural vibe
Petrified, I could not squeak nor scream
To awaken me from this devilish dream
Then he held his raw bony hand to my cheek
I was so in awe that I could not speak
I realized his beauty, his pure physique
Like all of us, he was incredibly weak
He was the most innocent form of man
No brain, no greed, no selfish life plan
My pompous red dress, sinful with horns
Compared to his heavenly crown of thorns
The whiteness of his skull, blinding in the night
A most terrifying but magnificent sight
I was so stupefied, I admit to this
I stood on my toes and leaned in for a kiss
Never did I taste a death wish so sweet
But then he crumbled to ashes at my feet
Alas! I cried, for I had no defence
I destroyed this man's divine innocence
I was a Queen! And I was in a rage
But I can't love a man with an empty rib cage
I met a strange man on Halloween
Who was life and death and all in between
Rolling in the ashes, I do confess
Was no Queen, but a damsel in distress
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Miles Away

I refuse to sell my heart, not for twenty-five cents The auction is closed, ladies and gents I’ve already sold my eyes, when they caught sight of the streets So now everyone can see the beauty of my Italian retreat I sold my tongue for gelato, feeling so young Letting the wild berries dance around on my tongue I sold my feet when I traveled to see our Holy Mother in gold Like a saint on a mission, I’ll walk until I get old I sold my ears when I heard beautiful Aida open her lips Echoing through the theatre in which the ancients used to sit But I won’t sell my heart, it is still free For my heart belongs to God and not really to me My heart aches for home, too many miles away Yet for now I am here and I will live for today Yes, I sold my eyes to Italy; it’s all I can see How I wish you were here seeing these treasures with me I’ll try to buy back my sight, taste, and ears too So that I’ll be able to share these memories with you
Post a Comment
Read more

We Pretend

We pretend that we'll live forever That tomorrow will bring something better We pretend we're not made of stars As we roam the streets and bars We pretend we'll never die That our kids won't ever cry Over the loss that is our end Every student, teacher, friend Everyone we've ever known Has a constellation they call home When the moon comes out at night I look to them to see the light To all those who did pretend That their story would never end But on some nights, breezy and clear I see the stars and they feel near I can grasp one and hold it in my hand As it takes me to another land We pretend this earth is all there is to see Yet the stars and crickets have spoken to me We pretend we'll never die Because we truly won't To someone's eye
Post a Comment
Read more

Not Your Typical New Year's Resolutions

2016 is a big year for me and for most friends my age. 2016 means I'll transform from "Olga Taratuta, High School Graduate" to "Olga Taratuta, B.A." 2016 holds my future in its sweaty palms. The words "job," "money," "graduate school," and "scholarships" seem to have dominated my pool of vocabulary. 2016 is where I become a real adult, not the OSAP mooching fraud that I am now. But adulthood is a scam. It is a fable told by society to keep the economy in check. Adults are seduced by money. We become promiscuous, lurking the streets to make a buck.  My original goals for 2016 were to: A) Get into graduate school B) Get a job C) Get an apartment D) Save, save, save! Then I realized that all those goals are money-driven to some degree. They are but cookie cutter resolutions, such as "exercise more" or "lose 5 pounds." I will not make money by aiming to make money. I have realized this ...
Post a Comment
Read more