Twisted: The Assassin Aleen


4.
The Great Winged Assassin Aleen sat like a large boulder perched on the side of Mount Bastion across the valley from where The Castle Ur stood. His vantage point overlooked the Sea of Rife and the Companion Halls of Medore. He took a deep breath in and listened as his leathery skin expanded and then exhaled slowly, meditatively. Then, again, a slow inhale, then slower exhale.

He had been practicing this form of breathing for years before a kill as it relaxed him and placed him in a state where little affected him. He drifted outward and inward at the same time moving away from his central core to a point where he was no longer attached in spirit. Time would pass and he would breath in deeply and then slowly allow his wings to unwrap from around his bat-like body startling those nearby at the unexpected exposure of a muscular frame hidden there concealed beneath a skin so black that he could stand silently and without movement during the night next to a victim or military guards and never be seen until he struck.

He was deeply feared as an assassin and plan for his removal had been in place for over a year, but he had struck first leaving not one council floor covered with spilled blood, but three of them. He had moved so quickly that those killed were never able to leave any message to alert others of his actions. He was a master of treachery and his intended kills sat nearby completely absorbed in a juvenile conversation about how famous they would all become in the near future. Not one realized their future would end that night

TWISTED: 2


2:
It was just an hour before dawn when a lone figure slowly picked a path through a field of boulders that lay at the base of what was called by some to be the South Tower of The Castle Ur. As the figure went slowly walking there approaching the outer wall of the tower, a second slipped out of the dark and approached the first.

“Nadine?” the second quietly spoke, almost in a whisper. The voice was deep and rumbled like the sound coming from the distance thunder storms that never seemed to leave the land all around the mountain upon which sat the castle itself.

“Nadine?”

The first stopped walking and from beneath the hood hiding the facial features of the person there within a higher pitched voice answered simply and quietly, “Yes, Great King Mont, it is me.”

Mont flipped back the heavy dark hood exposing his rounded and bearded face. “Nadine,” his voice took on a degree of excitement. “Nadine, my sweet and dearest friend, how I have longed to see you these passing months.” He opened his arms and took several steps to close the distance between himself and Nadine.

“As have I.” the other answered softly and raised arms beckoning the first openly to be embraced. “Come to me and hug me like we have in the days past. Show you still care for me and rub my back to relieve the pain from the slow climb from below to here.”

Mont stumbled on the loose footing of gravel and stone but recovered and began to close the distance when he suddenly caught the glimpse of a steel blade concealed in the other’s hand. He stumbled again but came to a stop less than five feet from the other there in the slowing ebbing darkness as the Sun was coming up bring dawn and announcing a new day.

“Nadine, what?….”

Nadine stepped forward and thrust the blade deep into Mont’s body as the man looked down in shock and then up as the assassin pushed back the hood to reveal their face.

“Talia!”

Mont stepped forward and grabbed the shoulders of the other party as she pulled out the knife and reinserted it back into Mont’s body again and again and again until he dropped to his knees and then fell over quite dead.

TWISTED: FAIRY TALES FROM A DARKWOOD (not your typical childhood book)


TWISTED: FAIRY TALES FROM A DARK WOOD
(This isn’t your basic children’s book so beware.)

The land of Darkwood was bathed in a constant drizzle. It had been so for over a hundred years. Once the island had been a place of beauty, but then….the terror came. It arrived in the middle of the night and when it did it came as a destroyer, touching all that was beautiful with an angry curse. There was nothing that could be done, or so it seemed, for anyone who even looked as being opposed to the rule of Talia was imprisoned or executed immediately upon her request. How strange it seemed, she had been the most loved Princess in the land and then the change took place and she went from being good to being the most evil woman ever known. There were sections of The Castle Ur that reeked of the smell of blood; some said she bathed in the blood of young women believing it was good for her skin. There was always a parade of girls coming but never leaving. Even the Seven Dwarfs that were always by her side seemed a bit, er, put out about the whole issue but they too risked their lives if any insolence was determined to have occurred. As it was the King of the Dwarves was a prisoner in the South Tower and had been there for six months. But on this day he was allowed to go for a walk…..alone.

 

WHY DO WE TEACH LIES TO CHILDREN?


Why is it that we teach children to lie? Why do we tell them lies? Santa Claus! Adults think it is cool to tell children all about Santa Claus. Kids get around older kids and the older kids berate the younger kids making them feel foolish and then the heartbreaking truth is revealed that the adults … parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles….lied to them. And you expect them to learn to be truthful doing this? What about the Easter Bunny and egg hunts? …..bunny = eggs?

YESTERDAYS MOAN


 

Standing naked on the lawn

alone he was one sunlit dawn

the grass beneath his shoeless  feet

cut like broken glass in the shimmering heat

with no one for miles around in sight

memories screamed in silence and turned to flight

while each separate living  haunted thought

echoed off mental walls of stone

trapped there,  held there apart from others’ sight

while caught up in a wind lifted moan

he stood naked beneath an unmoving sun

that dried his flesh and burned his bone

his life before him seen in a looping rerun

while he stood naked there on a grassless lawn

alone, he was, one sunlit dawn .

WHAT?


        by improve everywhere

Do you like poetry? I like poetry. My dogs have always like poetry. Have you ever heard me read poetry? How about if I sang it to you? Any chance for that? Come on where’s the support here, there, over there. It has to be here someplace, why else would I write poetry? Happy poetry, sad poetry, nonsense poetry, and serious poetry. Ok, you can just sit and read then…..but if you do make it MY poetry that you read: The Widow’s Cliff and Other Poems on Amazon, or for a very select few, Rabbit in a Box also on Amazon.

You do want to support me, don’t you. Of course you do. Amazon, Gordon Kuhn….come and buy a book!   My dog thanks you.

 

 

VOICES UNHEARD


The poet speaks in voices  unheard

Their words are spread upon a page unread

within the confusion of mind speak

the poet’s pen travels on, and on, and on

and where from does the lighted darkness come

where from does the need arise

to shake the hand of God, I suppose

and yet no one shall ever know.

 

What haunted inquiries doth possess

The soul of a single man

What creatures known but by him

Shall raise their faces from the darkness

From the vault kept locked within

Where memories persist to crawl

And slither then upon the walls

Where with a sublime poison touch the soul from within

To cradle him and bath him in memories of his sins

Cannot the treasure once spoken of so profound

See past the surface marred with scratches

Caused by the fight for life and light within

The casket of memories held tightly unexposed

Nails seeking a spot so soft to break into the day

And yet, my friend, darkness looms ahead

Darkness seeks the firm foundations grown so weak

Where only memories of evil purpose takes to peak

On a mountain never climbed and waiting

Waiting for the final curtain to descend

Upon the poet whose voice is silent from within.                                                              02/02/17

ALEEN Continued


And so as evening fell fully away from the day and
Those watching went their separate way
Speaking not of evil left there cloaked in dark wings
And left behind small Aleen to sit high upon the hill
The rocky hill that overlooked the city of LLandia
Where the mission keeper sat and looked past them as they left
Brooding about the mission sent him on
And snarled at those who turned to look back at him
For what was their want? Could they have found a better one.
His dark fangs revealed his mood and waited for the taste of blood.
That would run from throats slit by fingernail and dragon tail of wingspan spread
He would wait till fully dark and then mount his quest and deliver the blows
While the silly younger ones left behind who groveled at their teachers feet
Waited for a tasty treat and yet
And yet he recalled Anlock the Strong who spoke to him so long before
Long before the mission clear was in his mind and vision spell
There he had lain away so many days and nights until it became so very clear
That death, dear death would somehow come once again near
And as told when Anloch’s face was close, so close he could hear
The breathing from the lungs deep behind the lacquered armored hide
“Kill them swifty, little one. Surprise those of your kind larger than you.
Surprise them at your strength and keep in mind,
There will come a day when you will have to kill them too.” 1/12/2017

Eric the Tiny Field Mouse contin.


Eric suddenly realized something was wrong. The hay smelled stale, rotted actually. How long had he slept, he wondered? Hours? Days? No, impossible, he had never slept for more than a few hours and if he had someone would have woken him.

He heard shuffling and mumbling coming from off to his left and then to his right. Suddenly, little brown noses poked into the cavity. Field Mice noses. Then he saw an eye blinking at him. “He’s awake!” a mouse voice said to his left.

“No.” A mouse voice said to his right.

Then the noses and the eyes suddenly broke out of the hay and there he sat being studied intently by two field mice, one from the left and one from the right.

“It’s impossible,” said the mouse to the right.

“Well, it is what it is,” said the one on the left. “I told you he was waking up.”

“Yes, you did but….”

Eric suddenly sat up. “Who are you? I don’t recognize either of you.”

“Good God, he can talk,” the mice said together. “I think we should tell the Queen,” said the one on the left. “No, I don’t think that is wise,” from the right. “She’s been bashing people on the head with her club. I don’t even want to go near her,” said the one on the left. “Besides we need more information,” they said together.

 

 

 

Eric the Tiny Field Mouse Chapter Two


So it happened that Eric fell asleep for what appeared to be only a few minutes, but the reality was it was hours and days and months that had passed in a twinkling when Eric finally yawned and sat up in what was now a pollution of rotted hay for he had been left there as the others were unable to wake him. But then there was a shuffling noise in the far in of his den and out popped the faces of two who were his own age, except you had to consider he was actually over a hundred at the time, but not physically. Physically he was only 3 or was it 4. I’m not sure, maybe 5. Yes, let’s say he was 5 and be done with it except…..well….plus a hundred.