by Nick Gisburne
If a citizen has reached Removal Age
They must swallow an official poison pill
Any failure to comply, at any stage
Gives an officer the right to shoot and kill
Where a plague-infected relative has died
Use abrasive tools to grind the skin away
Hang all bodies on the meat hooks we provide
Current law permits a single corpse per day
Never question your allotted date and time
The efficiency of government is key
To extend your legal lifespan is a crime
And will triple the administration fee
When your usefulness is over you must die
You are not allowed to know the reasons why
Sunday, 28 February 2021
Saturday, 27 February 2021
The Collector
by Nick Gisburne
He rescues them from damage and neglect
Forgotten books of dark, demonic lore
A feverish obsession to collect
Addicted to their drug, he craves for more
But this, he knows, will be his greatest prize
Forbidden magic, stolen from the dead
The symbols swirl and snake before his eyes
A storm of flame and shadow fills his head
He wakes upon a floor of amber glass
His body, scorched, still breathing, still alive
He tells himself the pain must surely pass
Tenacity compels him to survive
The dragon scratches ‘Human’ on the jar
A rarity - the live ones always are
He rescues them from damage and neglect
Forgotten books of dark, demonic lore
A feverish obsession to collect
Addicted to their drug, he craves for more
But this, he knows, will be his greatest prize
Forbidden magic, stolen from the dead
The symbols swirl and snake before his eyes
A storm of flame and shadow fills his head
He wakes upon a floor of amber glass
His body, scorched, still breathing, still alive
He tells himself the pain must surely pass
Tenacity compels him to survive
The dragon scratches ‘Human’ on the jar
A rarity - the live ones always are
Tattooed Children
by Nick Gisburne
As children, left to scavenge on the streets
They live like beasts, but stay together, strong
A world of struggles, setbacks and defeats
But to a single purpose they belong
Inventions, strange and deadly, fill their dreams
Designs they scratch and scrape into their skin
The tattooed children’s enigmatic schemes
Conceal the seething bitterness within
And now, at last, the nightmares come to pass
A legion of unthinkable machines
Monstrosities of silver, steel and brass
They rise to wreak revenge, by any means
And those who once abandoned them must die
But not before they face the question: “Why?”
As children, left to scavenge on the streets
They live like beasts, but stay together, strong
A world of struggles, setbacks and defeats
But to a single purpose they belong
Inventions, strange and deadly, fill their dreams
Designs they scratch and scrape into their skin
The tattooed children’s enigmatic schemes
Conceal the seething bitterness within
And now, at last, the nightmares come to pass
A legion of unthinkable machines
Monstrosities of silver, steel and brass
They rise to wreak revenge, by any means
And those who once abandoned them must die
But not before they face the question: “Why?”
Friday, 26 February 2021
The Freak
by Nick Gisburne
They say it was an accident at birth
Biology, a freak genetic code
Of all the creatures doomed to walk the earth
On him the greatest burden was bestowed
If any other man had been so cursed
He surely would be driven to despair
A scourge of such severity, the worst
A malady no magic could repair
He sees the look of loathing in their eyes
But stands before them, shameless, unafraid
And as his voice brings terror from the skies
The greatest hits of Britney Spears are played
He murders them, the karaoke king
He knows it, but he simply loves to sing
They say it was an accident at birth
Biology, a freak genetic code
Of all the creatures doomed to walk the earth
On him the greatest burden was bestowed
If any other man had been so cursed
He surely would be driven to despair
A scourge of such severity, the worst
A malady no magic could repair
He sees the look of loathing in their eyes
But stands before them, shameless, unafraid
And as his voice brings terror from the skies
The greatest hits of Britney Spears are played
He murders them, the karaoke king
He knows it, but he simply loves to sing
Thursday, 25 February 2021
The Doorway to My Dreams
by Nick Gisburne
Where are you, tiny doorway to my dreams?
You show me other worlds, beyond compare
Unparallelled excesses and extremes
Yet everything is real when I am there
My life is dark, a sea of empty space
But all is bathed in light behind the door
I long to see our secret, special place
I know that you can show me so much more
Where are you? Why so difficult to find?
You stir my rage, at every twist and turn
Your spiteful games manipulate the mind
I wonder if my brain will burst, or burn
I see you, hiding. There, inside my skin
I cut another doorway, and walk in
Where are you, tiny doorway to my dreams?
You show me other worlds, beyond compare
Unparallelled excesses and extremes
Yet everything is real when I am there
My life is dark, a sea of empty space
But all is bathed in light behind the door
I long to see our secret, special place
I know that you can show me so much more
Where are you? Why so difficult to find?
You stir my rage, at every twist and turn
Your spiteful games manipulate the mind
I wonder if my brain will burst, or burn
I see you, hiding. There, inside my skin
I cut another doorway, and walk in
Beneath the Ice
by Nick Gisburne
She breathes. I feel it, far beneath the ice
The rhythm, unmistakable, is hers
I swore I would return, and pay the price
The bottle, safe, is buried in the furs
Too many men have died to fill this flask
And I, who killed its keeper, made it mine
A spirit, bound to give me what I ask
A power without limit, dark, divine
My fingers, crooked, frozen, fight the fear
They break the seal and set the spirit free
Compelled to grant the wish, my words are clear
“Restore my love - unite us, she with me”
She lives. I see her, far beneath the ice
But now my soul, beside her, pays the price
She breathes. I feel it, far beneath the ice
The rhythm, unmistakable, is hers
I swore I would return, and pay the price
The bottle, safe, is buried in the furs
Too many men have died to fill this flask
And I, who killed its keeper, made it mine
A spirit, bound to give me what I ask
A power without limit, dark, divine
My fingers, crooked, frozen, fight the fear
They break the seal and set the spirit free
Compelled to grant the wish, my words are clear
“Restore my love - unite us, she with me”
She lives. I see her, far beneath the ice
But now my soul, beside her, pays the price
Wednesday, 24 February 2021
Bucket List of Death
by Nick Gisburne
She was bored with her predictable career
But developed quite an interesting plan
She would take a journey, once or twice a year
See the wonders of the world, and kill a man
Nothing ever matched the tingle of those trips
As she added to her bucket list of death
She would always kiss her victim on the lips
Just to share his final moment, one last breath
But a romance, unexpected, changed the rules
Any thoughts of murder faded into dust
Such a gentleman, unlike those other fools
He was caring, kind, a lover she could trust
As they shared a breath of passion, as they kissed
As she died, she joined her killer’s bucket list
She was bored with her predictable career
But developed quite an interesting plan
She would take a journey, once or twice a year
See the wonders of the world, and kill a man
Nothing ever matched the tingle of those trips
As she added to her bucket list of death
She would always kiss her victim on the lips
Just to share his final moment, one last breath
But a romance, unexpected, changed the rules
Any thoughts of murder faded into dust
Such a gentleman, unlike those other fools
He was caring, kind, a lover she could trust
As they shared a breath of passion, as they kissed
As she died, she joined her killer’s bucket list
The Pious Priest
by Nick Gisburne
She shifts the hood to mingle with the crowd
Instinctively, she follows where they lead
The catwalk takes their feet from cloud to cloud
Disciples, in the garments of their creed
The rabid, rhythmic chanting of the priest
Possesses every pilgrim, young and old
A storm of hate, ignited and released
And he, its prophet, garlanded in gold
She knows the frozen deserts of his home
The pious priest, who burned a thousand ships
She tracked him to this world, this lavish dome
And marvels as the poison paints his lips
How easily he bends them to his will
Her son, who she has come so far to kill
She shifts the hood to mingle with the crowd
Instinctively, she follows where they lead
The catwalk takes their feet from cloud to cloud
Disciples, in the garments of their creed
The rabid, rhythmic chanting of the priest
Possesses every pilgrim, young and old
A storm of hate, ignited and released
And he, its prophet, garlanded in gold
She knows the frozen deserts of his home
The pious priest, who burned a thousand ships
She tracked him to this world, this lavish dome
And marvels as the poison paints his lips
How easily he bends them to his will
Her son, who she has come so far to kill
Tuesday, 23 February 2021
Making a Friend
by Nick Gisburne
I was weak, and I needed a friend
So I made one, and gave him a soul
More than someone on whom I depend
He is what I am not; he is whole
He has witnessed the days of my past
All the fragile emotion, the doubt
He knows all that I am, to the last
But the fear, only that, I left out
In his heart is the will to be brave
To embrace what this world has to give
He has all of the courage I crave
And the wisdom to use it, to live
In his eyes I am small among men
And I know I won’t see him again
I was weak, and I needed a friend
So I made one, and gave him a soul
More than someone on whom I depend
He is what I am not; he is whole
He has witnessed the days of my past
All the fragile emotion, the doubt
He knows all that I am, to the last
But the fear, only that, I left out
In his heart is the will to be brave
To embrace what this world has to give
He has all of the courage I crave
And the wisdom to use it, to live
In his eyes I am small among men
And I know I won’t see him again
Upgrades
by Nick Gisburne
A tangled fog of searing heat and light
I fight to focus, far beyond the pain
He said this rarely happens, but it might
A consequence of trauma to the brain
The service was expensive, but discreet
The unofficial channels always are
At least the upgrade seems to be complete
I see... my headless torso, from afar
The surgeon, pulling organs from the chest
My limbs, already strewn across the floor
A backstreet body scam - I should have guessed
He couldn’t wait to drag me through the door
I think he’s found the bomb behind my heart
At least I’ll see the bastard blown apart
A tangled fog of searing heat and light
I fight to focus, far beyond the pain
He said this rarely happens, but it might
A consequence of trauma to the brain
The service was expensive, but discreet
The unofficial channels always are
At least the upgrade seems to be complete
I see... my headless torso, from afar
The surgeon, pulling organs from the chest
My limbs, already strewn across the floor
A backstreet body scam - I should have guessed
He couldn’t wait to drag me through the door
I think he’s found the bomb behind my heart
At least I’ll see the bastard blown apart
Monday, 22 February 2021
The Teapot
by Nick Gisburne
The teapot shared their lives for fifty years
Extravagant and brash, but so is she
She cuts a slice of cake and wipes her tears
Then adds a little whisky to the tea
She always loved the contours of his chin
Dismayed to see the hint of any beard
Athletic, rugged, handsome, perfect skin
The spark between them never disappeared
The letters that she wrote him, every day
Had made the war seem shorter, so he said
She found them, just before he passed away
A hundred, sealed with kisses, ruby red
She swung the teapot, killed him with her rage
For hers was not the writing on the page
The teapot shared their lives for fifty years
Extravagant and brash, but so is she
She cuts a slice of cake and wipes her tears
Then adds a little whisky to the tea
She always loved the contours of his chin
Dismayed to see the hint of any beard
Athletic, rugged, handsome, perfect skin
The spark between them never disappeared
The letters that she wrote him, every day
Had made the war seem shorter, so he said
She found them, just before he passed away
A hundred, sealed with kisses, ruby red
She swung the teapot, killed him with her rage
For hers was not the writing on the page
Smash
by Nick Gisburne
The storms hurl tides of blood and seething tar
They drench the land in darkness and disease
A river, thick with plague, a poison scar
Delivers death to sterilise the seas
Colossal giants smash the city gates
The throbbing of their engines shakes the skies
Within, the doomed defenders face their fates
And yet, they see a silent spectre rise
The necromancer makes a final stand
Arcane, infernal magic fills his head
Apocalyptic angels sweep the land
The giants, screaming, shatter, broken, dead
Though little but a wasteland still remains
They need a plumber, soon, to fix the drains
The storms hurl tides of blood and seething tar
They drench the land in darkness and disease
A river, thick with plague, a poison scar
Delivers death to sterilise the seas
Colossal giants smash the city gates
The throbbing of their engines shakes the skies
Within, the doomed defenders face their fates
And yet, they see a silent spectre rise
The necromancer makes a final stand
Arcane, infernal magic fills his head
Apocalyptic angels sweep the land
The giants, screaming, shatter, broken, dead
Though little but a wasteland still remains
They need a plumber, soon, to fix the drains
Sunday, 21 February 2021
Duels in the Darkness
by Nick Gisburne
Deformity - the torment of her day
The twist of tainted flesh on crooked bone
The eyes of those who witness it betray
The shock, the scorn, the hate she’s always known
At night, she stalks a secret, shadow place
With gun and blade she duels on the street
And, at the point of murder, shows her face
The final fist of terror in defeat
Her victims are the worst of mortal men
The arrogant, the reckless, and the vain
They fight, yet when they die, and only then
Does any man confront what gives him pain
She duels in the darkness of the night
With those who would despise her in the light
Deformity - the torment of her day
The twist of tainted flesh on crooked bone
The eyes of those who witness it betray
The shock, the scorn, the hate she’s always known
At night, she stalks a secret, shadow place
With gun and blade she duels on the street
And, at the point of murder, shows her face
The final fist of terror in defeat
Her victims are the worst of mortal men
The arrogant, the reckless, and the vain
They fight, yet when they die, and only then
Does any man confront what gives him pain
She duels in the darkness of the night
With those who would despise her in the light
A Legion of Limericks: 21st Cohort
by Nick Gisburne
I am selling my soul. Will you buy it?
It’s the Angel Mark 2 - you can fly it
It’s a little bit rusty
The morals are crusty
I’ll give you a discount. Just try it
I discovered a hole in the wall
Through the tunnel I eagerly crawl
I expected to find
Something splendid behind
But it’s nothing like Narnia at all
I bought magical beans in a bag
And I don’t want to niggle or nag
But the wizard who sold me
The beans should have told me
There’s ‘Danger of Death’ on the tag
At the castle the princess was torn
By the magical oath she had sworn
“All my duties are clear
But the paragraph here
Says I’m never allowed to do porn”
Hot and sticky, I sat in the sea
And a bear came to join me for tea
When he offered me fish
In a porcelain dish
It was only polite to agree
From the alien energy source
Came a beam of incredible force
But a blizzard of smoke
Filled the sky as it broke
And the warranty? Worthless of course
She has suffered for all of his crimes
In the worst and the darkest of times
For his years of abuse
He will die in the noose
To his death, to the scaffold, he climbs
Tiny leprechauns come for the craic
They are formal at dinner, in black
But they’ve broken the rule
‘Do not shit in the pool’
I am never inviting them back
What a glorious, colourful bird
And the song, quite the sweetest I’ve heard
It was hit by a car
Here’s the head, in a jar
This was not the result I preferred
When the snowman was dating my daughter
I was pleased with the flowers he bought her
But I gave him no doubt
If his snowballs fell out
I would thaw out his thing with hot water
I am selling my soul. Will you buy it?
It’s the Angel Mark 2 - you can fly it
It’s a little bit rusty
The morals are crusty
I’ll give you a discount. Just try it
I discovered a hole in the wall
Through the tunnel I eagerly crawl
I expected to find
Something splendid behind
But it’s nothing like Narnia at all
I bought magical beans in a bag
And I don’t want to niggle or nag
But the wizard who sold me
The beans should have told me
There’s ‘Danger of Death’ on the tag
At the castle the princess was torn
By the magical oath she had sworn
“All my duties are clear
But the paragraph here
Says I’m never allowed to do porn”
Hot and sticky, I sat in the sea
And a bear came to join me for tea
When he offered me fish
In a porcelain dish
It was only polite to agree
From the alien energy source
Came a beam of incredible force
But a blizzard of smoke
Filled the sky as it broke
And the warranty? Worthless of course
She has suffered for all of his crimes
In the worst and the darkest of times
For his years of abuse
He will die in the noose
To his death, to the scaffold, he climbs
Tiny leprechauns come for the craic
They are formal at dinner, in black
But they’ve broken the rule
‘Do not shit in the pool’
I am never inviting them back
What a glorious, colourful bird
And the song, quite the sweetest I’ve heard
It was hit by a car
Here’s the head, in a jar
This was not the result I preferred
When the snowman was dating my daughter
I was pleased with the flowers he bought her
But I gave him no doubt
If his snowballs fell out
I would thaw out his thing with hot water
Threads of Aether
by Nick Gisburne
We wear it on the aether ships we tame
The highest and the lowest, rich or poor
A pendant, crooked cogwheels, forged in flame
A charm, for luck, a token to be sure
We harvest threads of aether from the sky
The veins are rich, but thick with dark debris
We dance with danger, knowing we may die
And kiss the cogs to set our troubles free
If greed betrays the careless in the clouds
Tenacity is hammered on our hearts
Farewell to anxious lovers, cheering crowds
The ship of dauntless aeronauts departs
We sail beyond the clouds to claim our prize
The harvest, threads of aether, from the skies
We wear it on the aether ships we tame
The highest and the lowest, rich or poor
A pendant, crooked cogwheels, forged in flame
A charm, for luck, a token to be sure
We harvest threads of aether from the sky
The veins are rich, but thick with dark debris
We dance with danger, knowing we may die
And kiss the cogs to set our troubles free
If greed betrays the careless in the clouds
Tenacity is hammered on our hearts
Farewell to anxious lovers, cheering crowds
The ship of dauntless aeronauts departs
We sail beyond the clouds to claim our prize
The harvest, threads of aether, from the skies
Saturday, 20 February 2021
Whispers of a Nightmare
by Nick Gisburne
I pull the shattered scarab from the clay
A shock, a cold connection, grips my heart
The paralysing tendrils of decay
Contaminate, divide, and twist apart
The whispers of a nightmare brush my face
A suffocating evil, septic, sick
They slip inside the mind to take its place
Dismantling my soul, they pry and pick
Unlocked, unleashed, a nauseating curse
Awakens in the shadows of my skin
Immortals, spawned beyond this universe
Impatient for the madness to begin
The demons of apocalypse descend
And I, alone, bear witness to the end
I pull the shattered scarab from the clay
A shock, a cold connection, grips my heart
The paralysing tendrils of decay
Contaminate, divide, and twist apart
The whispers of a nightmare brush my face
A suffocating evil, septic, sick
They slip inside the mind to take its place
Dismantling my soul, they pry and pick
Unlocked, unleashed, a nauseating curse
Awakens in the shadows of my skin
Immortals, spawned beyond this universe
Impatient for the madness to begin
The demons of apocalypse descend
And I, alone, bear witness to the end
Friday, 19 February 2021
A Legion of Limericks: Twentieth Cohort
by Nick Gisburne
All is calm as I wait for the sun
In the stillness I steady the gun
I see death in his eyes
But no hint of surprise
For he knows now what has to be done
We are stirring the cauldron of grief
For the infamous Liar-in-Chief
There is nothing inside
Only smiles when he died
And for most there is welcome relief
I have nothing to pay for a meal
Should I beg, perhaps borrow, or steal?
I have one other skill
I’ve decided to kill
It’s a little like clubbing a seal
Scrolls and parchments, strange, alien skin
Tattered bundles, but where to begin?
What strange secrets hide here?
Ancient, festering fear
Are there answers, or madness, within?
From the depths of a fathomless pool
Swarms a legion, accursed and cruel
Are they beasts of the night
Born to butcher and bite
Or the quiet ones bullied at school?
There are days he will never reclaim
He forgets, but has no one to blame
But the treasure, the prize
Is the light in his eyes
When he smiles and remembers your name
I have twenty Bavarian nieces
And the buggers all bore me to pieces
I will cut out their souls
Plant a bomb in the holes
And just hope their banality ceases
When her shadow fell into the water
A bespectacled navy man caught her
He returned it at speed
But he bungled the deed
It belonged to the dog of his daughter
Though I may not be handsome or rich
I was charmed by a beautiful witch
We were out on a date
And the dinner was great
But I woke as a frog, in a ditch
For a hundred and ninety-nine years
I have saved the most precious of beers
It was ready to drink
But it fell in the sink
All I have is a gallon of tears
All is calm as I wait for the sun
In the stillness I steady the gun
I see death in his eyes
But no hint of surprise
For he knows now what has to be done
We are stirring the cauldron of grief
For the infamous Liar-in-Chief
There is nothing inside
Only smiles when he died
And for most there is welcome relief
I have nothing to pay for a meal
Should I beg, perhaps borrow, or steal?
I have one other skill
I’ve decided to kill
It’s a little like clubbing a seal
Scrolls and parchments, strange, alien skin
Tattered bundles, but where to begin?
What strange secrets hide here?
Ancient, festering fear
Are there answers, or madness, within?
From the depths of a fathomless pool
Swarms a legion, accursed and cruel
Are they beasts of the night
Born to butcher and bite
Or the quiet ones bullied at school?
There are days he will never reclaim
He forgets, but has no one to blame
But the treasure, the prize
Is the light in his eyes
When he smiles and remembers your name
I have twenty Bavarian nieces
And the buggers all bore me to pieces
I will cut out their souls
Plant a bomb in the holes
And just hope their banality ceases
When her shadow fell into the water
A bespectacled navy man caught her
He returned it at speed
But he bungled the deed
It belonged to the dog of his daughter
Though I may not be handsome or rich
I was charmed by a beautiful witch
We were out on a date
And the dinner was great
But I woke as a frog, in a ditch
For a hundred and ninety-nine years
I have saved the most precious of beers
It was ready to drink
But it fell in the sink
All I have is a gallon of tears
A Legion of Limericks: Nineteenth Cohort
by Nick Gisburne
Let us see how much pain you can take
You are strong, but I know you will break
When your spirits are dead
And the contract is read
You’ll be married and cutting the cake
I will tell you the future I see
Hear the wisdom once given to me
From the day we take breath
We are destined for death
But, as long as we live, we are free
They insist that my face does not fit
And they try to convince me to quit
But I prove them all wrong
I am worthy and strong
On their bigoted bias I spit
When the Devil dropped in on the town
He decided to burn the place down
Good old God was on form
He delivered a storm
So the flames are all out, but we’ll drown
In the smouldering ruins and ash
Bands of sickening scavengers dash
There is profit in pain
Where the helpless are slain
And their bodies are trampled like trash
Call him worthless, a criminal stain
But he thrives in the depths of disdain
In your moment of need
Say his name as you plead
In the heart of his deadly domain
Said the wolf to the innocent child
“I am dangerous, hungry, and wild”
He expected her cry
But she said, “So am I”
Then she picked up the rifle and smiled
In the circle of clowns there is fear
For their master has summoned them here
He exposes the snitch
Drags him into a ditch
And he beats him to death as they cheer
From the moment they breathe, she begins
Weaving tapestries into their skins
Scenes of scandal and shame
Twisted fibres of flame
She must shape every strand of their sins
See the future! Discover your fate!
Take the journey, before it’s too late
It’s a serious crime
But the nature of time
Means of course you could probably wait
Let us see how much pain you can take
You are strong, but I know you will break
When your spirits are dead
And the contract is read
You’ll be married and cutting the cake
I will tell you the future I see
Hear the wisdom once given to me
From the day we take breath
We are destined for death
But, as long as we live, we are free
They insist that my face does not fit
And they try to convince me to quit
But I prove them all wrong
I am worthy and strong
On their bigoted bias I spit
When the Devil dropped in on the town
He decided to burn the place down
Good old God was on form
He delivered a storm
So the flames are all out, but we’ll drown
In the smouldering ruins and ash
Bands of sickening scavengers dash
There is profit in pain
Where the helpless are slain
And their bodies are trampled like trash
Call him worthless, a criminal stain
But he thrives in the depths of disdain
In your moment of need
Say his name as you plead
In the heart of his deadly domain
Said the wolf to the innocent child
“I am dangerous, hungry, and wild”
He expected her cry
But she said, “So am I”
Then she picked up the rifle and smiled
In the circle of clowns there is fear
For their master has summoned them here
He exposes the snitch
Drags him into a ditch
And he beats him to death as they cheer
From the moment they breathe, she begins
Weaving tapestries into their skins
Scenes of scandal and shame
Twisted fibres of flame
She must shape every strand of their sins
See the future! Discover your fate!
Take the journey, before it’s too late
It’s a serious crime
But the nature of time
Means of course you could probably wait
Thursday, 18 February 2021
A Legion of Limericks: Eighteenth Cohort
by Nick Gisburne
The elixir is cold in my throat
And I dream of the sky as I float
Senses seamless and keen
Mind in harmony, clean
But I’m vomiting blood on my coat
Tiny windows where nobody sees
Broken doors with inscrutable keys
Is it prison or tomb?
Is this really my room?
Can I speak to the manager please?
It is torment he cannot avert
An unbearable blizzard of hurt
As he changes and grows
In this body he knows
He will never fit back in that shirt
Let us slaughter the slow and the weak
They will give us the serum we seek
Split the skull and the spine
Drink the fluids like wine
Though their toxins are bitter and bleak
See the bodies hung high in the trees
Watch them swing in the shivering breeze
They are signs of the scourge
Of the poisons we purge
There are none so unworthy as these
In the mirror I fear what I see
I am certain this cannot be me
Cold reflections of age
Disappointment and rage
This is not who I wanted to be
When he whispered the promise, she fled
But his flower she took to her bed
She was charmed by the rose
But together they froze
And he found her by candlelight, dead
Seven witches were quietly sitting
Roasting criminals, smoking and spitting
While they waited to eat
Slowly basting the meat
They were bingeing on Netflix and knitting
With her voodoo she turned him to stone
But the seeds of her downfall were sown
In his shirt was a ticket
She’d even helped pick it
The jackpot, if only she’d known
I have kicked the big bucket - deceased
I can’t wait for my funeral feast
In their droves they’ll attend
Come to mourn a good friend
Or it might be just me and the priest
The elixir is cold in my throat
And I dream of the sky as I float
Senses seamless and keen
Mind in harmony, clean
But I’m vomiting blood on my coat
Tiny windows where nobody sees
Broken doors with inscrutable keys
Is it prison or tomb?
Is this really my room?
Can I speak to the manager please?
It is torment he cannot avert
An unbearable blizzard of hurt
As he changes and grows
In this body he knows
He will never fit back in that shirt
Let us slaughter the slow and the weak
They will give us the serum we seek
Split the skull and the spine
Drink the fluids like wine
Though their toxins are bitter and bleak
See the bodies hung high in the trees
Watch them swing in the shivering breeze
They are signs of the scourge
Of the poisons we purge
There are none so unworthy as these
In the mirror I fear what I see
I am certain this cannot be me
Cold reflections of age
Disappointment and rage
This is not who I wanted to be
When he whispered the promise, she fled
But his flower she took to her bed
She was charmed by the rose
But together they froze
And he found her by candlelight, dead
Seven witches were quietly sitting
Roasting criminals, smoking and spitting
While they waited to eat
Slowly basting the meat
They were bingeing on Netflix and knitting
With her voodoo she turned him to stone
But the seeds of her downfall were sown
In his shirt was a ticket
She’d even helped pick it
The jackpot, if only she’d known
I have kicked the big bucket - deceased
I can’t wait for my funeral feast
In their droves they’ll attend
Come to mourn a good friend
Or it might be just me and the priest
A Legion of Limericks: Seventeenth (Surreal) Cohort
by Nick Gisburne
As the bird of conspiracy sings
She is haunted by rhythmical strings
But the oracle tells
Of impossible bells
In the gardens of innocent kings
Lonely children with desolate eyes
Light the beacons of dust with their sighs
Only reason rings true
But the echoes we grew
Shade the evergreen glow of the skies
There are castles of cinnamon clover
And their riddles bring rage to the rover
In the darkness of time
See them coil as they climb
For their nightmares will never be over
From the annals of wandering whales
Are subtracted unusual tales
Such an intricate catch
Lures of light are no match
For they whisper with snow in their sails
Swirling armies draw stars in the smoke
In their battles to pray and provoke
Understanding the seed
May empower its creed
To enlighten, yet never uncloak
She begins her illegible signs
With a cobweb of damaging lines
But a scandalous flow
Blows them woefully low
Till the spiders entangle their spines
In the spark of a unicorn’s eye
Long before there were starfish to cry
Only dance filled the trees
But the tangerine seas
Sang of sorrowful seasons gone by
If your vision is fearsome and free
Tell me, why do you wander with me?
Do you struggle to stray
On this dangerous day?
Are you lost in my deadly debris?
From the shadows, where nightingales die
To the fields of the fever we fly
Cloaked in spiralling steam
We are lords of the dream
Come to shatter the shivering sky
Seven circles envelop the dawn
As the child of illusion is born
But the mothers must weep
For the scarlet runs deep
When the sunset bleeds over the corn
As the bird of conspiracy sings
She is haunted by rhythmical strings
But the oracle tells
Of impossible bells
In the gardens of innocent kings
Lonely children with desolate eyes
Light the beacons of dust with their sighs
Only reason rings true
But the echoes we grew
Shade the evergreen glow of the skies
There are castles of cinnamon clover
And their riddles bring rage to the rover
In the darkness of time
See them coil as they climb
For their nightmares will never be over
From the annals of wandering whales
Are subtracted unusual tales
Such an intricate catch
Lures of light are no match
For they whisper with snow in their sails
Swirling armies draw stars in the smoke
In their battles to pray and provoke
Understanding the seed
May empower its creed
To enlighten, yet never uncloak
She begins her illegible signs
With a cobweb of damaging lines
But a scandalous flow
Blows them woefully low
Till the spiders entangle their spines
In the spark of a unicorn’s eye
Long before there were starfish to cry
Only dance filled the trees
But the tangerine seas
Sang of sorrowful seasons gone by
If your vision is fearsome and free
Tell me, why do you wander with me?
Do you struggle to stray
On this dangerous day?
Are you lost in my deadly debris?
From the shadows, where nightingales die
To the fields of the fever we fly
Cloaked in spiralling steam
We are lords of the dream
Come to shatter the shivering sky
Seven circles envelop the dawn
As the child of illusion is born
But the mothers must weep
For the scarlet runs deep
When the sunset bleeds over the corn