riley finn – Page 2 – The Slayer Verses

June 3, 2019June 11, 2019

Episode 80 – Real Me

dawn is morning’s response
to evening’s darkness

* * *

I am an only child,
little sister I have not.
But the kid
appeared one day,
writing journals,
making a nuisance,
altering my life.

What is a life
if not what’s remembered?
Or is what’s remembered
the whole of a life?
Can missing pieces
form a sister,

like God in those first days
molding a planet from the void?
Can a sister form
from shared memories –

skinned knees,
birthday cakes,
the forbidden borrowing
of a favorite sweater?

If memories fail,
does the sister evaporate
like water on a summer sidewalk?
Or do lies fracture,
leaving a prism
of colorful stories behind?

May 19, 2019

Episode 79 – Buffy vs. Dracula

Lying close,
he doesn’t satisfy.
Pursuit
feeds her hunger.
She chases thrills,
then returns spent
to lie beside him.

A kindred
flows like mist
into her room
while she is sleeping,

drinking her in.

Her true nature
is concealed
beneath crepe paper
and ribbons,
peeled back layers
of strength
and darkness.

His nature is
a colorful calligraphy,
flowing shallow
and powerful
beneath the skin.

He offers eternity.

She is rooted in now,
her thirst quenched
by ancient memories.

She, as predator.
She, as seduction.
She, as hunger.

He leaves her
as he found her,
wanting more.

April 27, 2019April 27, 2019

Episode 78 – Restless

Ancient strokes
brushed
on naked skin,

entangled,
a poem without,
my love within.

In costume,
the play begins
without me.

False friends follow,
dragging me back
to the shell of a life.

O girl in blue,
won’t you tell me
what to do?

Paint me, naked,
hair behind one ear,
my Aphrodite.

The journey leads me
back again,
swinging,
trying to get in.
Too many people
watching,
my father’s sin.

Ladies,
lovely like ice cream,
speak to me
in foreign tongues,
send me off to war.
I can’t take it
anymore.

Pulled apart by petals
and stems,
too many corridors,
I can’t get in.
No place to lose my heart.
I’m broken, torn apart.

Time
is a carnival,
masking your face
with laughter,

cotton candy.
Find me
in a melody,
follow the lines.
No time
to remember
before,

on hands and knees.
You alone,
time lost.
And I
not born yet,
even as I die.

The earth
is a dreamer,
hiding behind walls,
hands plunged deep
in dark desert mud,
its name
unknown to anyone.

Memories are
isolated,
all twisted in family.
Speech, so ancient
there are no words.

Strength lies
in friendship,
in purpose.
The way
looms clear.

Then dawn
arrives
and changes
everything.

April 21, 2019April 21, 2019

Episode 77 – Primeval

In friendship
we speak as one,
speaking in an ancient tongue.
Bullets melt off our skin.
Many try,
but can’t get in.
Sticks and stones
and playground bones
can’t touch the power
of friendship.

Torn apart
by misunderstanding,
like birds we find
our landing, in solidarity.
Magical reunion,
our hearts seek communion.
We meet equidistant,
form a fellowship
from our dissent.

Four legs supply
a chair’s stability.
Four corners
of the world every
adventurer longs to see.
Four friends joined
as one, win all battles
under the sun.

She, the soul.
He, the wit,
She, the heart.
He, the intellect.

In friendship
we speak as one,
speaking in an ancient tongue.
Bullets melt off our skin.
Many try,
but can’t get in.
Sticks and stones
and playground bones
can’t touch the power
of friendship.

March 29, 2019