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Small by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Small
I may be small, but fuck it, so are you.
We’re talking inches. Look around. Look up.
Is that the best, the worst, that you can do?
The universe is vast. You’re just a pup.
I’ll never grow to your impressive height.
I will not see you smiling, face to face.
But I can sleep, contented, every night,
Convinced you’re a just tiny speck in space.
You’re bigger, on a scale too small to care.
You don’t deserve a moment of my time.
Pretend you’re so important, if you dare,
But you are crawling closer to the slime.
Imagine all the places I can fit,
While I refuse to dignify your shit.
The Reach of Evil by Gisburne, literature
Literature
The Reach of Evil
I will shield you from the shadows of the night.
When they come for you, cry out. I stand prepared.
I have many names, but know my nature: light.
Only you, of all my children, shall be spared.
Not your sisters. Not your brothers. Not your friends.
They are destined for the deepest pit of pain.
See the line at which the reach of evil ends,
At the wall of tortured spirits, my domain.
You are special. You are chosen. You are mine.
You are everything I am, and want to be.
In the skies above my city you will shine.
Let your eyes be filled with fear, and love, for me.
We shall reign together, exiled, out of reach.
I have much to show you...
Broken by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Broken
The life of every Broken One is bleak,
Avoiding those who shout and spit and stare.
A label damns but drives us forward: ‘freak’.
Defective, we were born beyond repair.
As misfits, uncorrectable, impure,
We have no rights, no reason to exist.
Our hated state, of which we are so sure,
Is reasserted, daily, with a fist.
I watched a woman once, who tried to pass
Beyond the Gate, where none of us can go.
She took a step, but never touched the grass.
They killed her, with a single, savage blow.
We do not dare to question what is right,
Abused and beaten, too afraid to fight.
Smudges in the Mud by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Smudges in the Mud
When Marcus and Marcellus, both, were born,
They played as boys, and vowed to fight as men,
Until the day the two of them were sworn
To serve, no matter where, or why, or when.
Allegiance to the cities of their birth
Condemned them both to see their brother’s blood
As wicked, without virtue, without worth,
Insufferable smudges in the mud.
They sit in silence, dying, like the light,
And recognise, in mourning, what was lost.
Their vitriol evaporates. The night
Is ready now to calculate the cost.
The butchery of bloodshed is revealed
When brother faces brother on the field.
Linguistico by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Linguistico
Linguistico can kill you with a word,
A superhuman power all his own.
Appalling tingles. Visions, boiling, blurred.
Excruciating heat in every bone.
No flame, no force, was ever truly felt
More deeply than such evil. As it grips,
The victim, in a pool of pain, will melt,
Succumbing to the language of his lips.
For decades only fools would face his rage,
Linguistico, deliverer of death,
But no one, even he, expected age
To sabotage the power of his breath.
The weapon of the word was always his,
But now he can’t remember what it is.
Not the Man by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Not the Man
I wish it wasn’t so, but listen, learn.
You’re not the man. You’re not the one we need.
The ticket you were hoping you would earn
Was never certain, never guaranteed.
We leave tomorrow, early, as you know,
The final flight from this forsaken place,
A tough decision, taken long ago.
The time was right to tell you, face to face.
I’m sorry, truly. Try to understand
We couldn’t fit another in the pod.
I’ll tell your wife, your children, when we land...
What happened? Can you see me? This is... odd.
A hologram, of me. Was that the plan,
A trick, to tell myself I’m not the man?
Born to Break by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Born to Break
Be quiet now, my little one. Be still.
I wouldn’t want to snap your other arm.
When Daddy says he’ll punish you, he will,
Or send you to be flattened, at the Farm.
Mechanicals are not supposed to cry,
Some two-bit program probably to blame.
I’m trying to be patient, boy, but why
The tantrum? Born to break. You’re all the same.
I’m fixing you myself this time, so sit.
Let Daddy see the circuits in your head.
What’s this? Some kind of custom crypto kit?
A prank, perhaps? Your eyes are flashing, red.
“I’m sorry, Dad. You don’t deserve a son.
Enjoy the detonation. Three... Two... One...”
Pawns and Playthings by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Pawns and Playthings
I need to know you. Tell me who you are,
And why you came so far to find this place,
A world you never knew, a lonely star.
For what? Explain it. Why this point in space?
You come to kill, to conquer. Am I right?
Why now? Why us? What threat are we to you?
A vast armada. Overwhelming might.
You surely know there’s nothing we can do.
So tell me. Give me something. Speak. Explain
Why none of us will see another day.
You’re wounded. I could kill you, cause you pain,
But surely there is something left to say?
Two soldiers, pawns and playthings, born to die.
We’re dead already. Won’t you tell me why?
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Toeing the Line by Parsat, literature
Literature
Toeing the Line
A great man once complained that poetry
has been quite silent on the prompt of cheese,
But I would also say that for the FEET,
Their dress and care and other pleasantries.
To be quite frank, I think of them beneath me
And wholly undeserving of my gaze;
Perambulation comes to me carefree,
And only when they ache do I feel fazed.
Of course, some folks might clamor for an arch
And ask a raise so they might get a raise;
To their own solo beat I let them march
On their perverted podiatric ways.
Ah well, let me not gaitkeep to excess:
It is quite nice to let the puppies rest.
We Died in Darkness by Gisburne, literature
Literature
We Died in Darkness
They find our forms imprisoned in the sludge,
Two lovers, in a passionate embrace.
With patient pain they delicately nudge
The dirt, to pull a picture from this place.
They see us. They uncover us, at last,
Unravelled from the chaos and the flames.
Their histories describe to them the blast,
But not the souls who perished, not our names.
We died in darkness. Finally the light
Reveals our love to sympathetic eyes.
But nothing changes. Now the world will fight
To bless or blame a bond that some despise.
Uncovered from the ashes, we are men.
Reborn, we rise, to live and love again.
Saoirse by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Saoirse
Saoirse (ser-sha) The Fey are certain. Saoirse will be queen,
Though not by any privilege of birth.
The jewels of her finery, the green,
Reflect a recognition of her worth.
What stray but she would dare to claim the throne,
The undeserving offspring of a faun?
And yet, this strange enigma, she alone,
Condemns the king’s admirers, as they mourn.
The truth of what their twisted ruler was
Will not be told by any book or bard.
When Saoirse leads them, it will be because
Her voice can heal what years of sorrow scarred.
The crimes against his kin and kingdom die.
With Saoirse, queen, the Fey again will fly.
Eve of Parting by Parsat, literature
Literature
Eve of Parting
Tomorrow you must travel to the coast
That both of us once dwelt in simpler days.
What's the occasion? Not a time to toast
But sadly, unexpected parting ways.
I wish that I could hold your hands in mine,
Enclose them in the shelter of my hold,
And let my stable heartbeat be a sign
That warmth can still be found in times so cold.
But every meeting that we've shared's felt stolen,
Our moments tangible have been so few:
There's little that we truly have control in
And still so much we have to see and do.
My dear, say hi to all the cherry trees:
Their blooming hearts, like mine, shall bid you peace.
Sisters by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Sisters
Belinda thinks her sister strange, insane.
Melinda shares a similar belief.
So Bel and Mel deposit equal pain,
Upon their sibling victims heaping grief.
No mercy now accepted, sought, or spared,
The toxic twins try anything, and all.
To certify each enemy impaired,
Towards a lethal climax, crazed, they crawl.
They settle it with derringers, at dawn,
Two pistols, pointed straight between the eyes.
Two shots. Two sisters lie upon the lawn,
Contented to confirm the other dies.
Their triplet, sweet Lucinda, safe, is glad.
She always knew the other two were mad.
Little Broken Boxes by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Little Broken Boxes
Obsessions flow in rivers round her head,
In little broken boxes, tied with string.
She longs for them to vanish, but the dead,
The tortured phantoms sealed inside them, sing.
In each, a piece of something sweet, to her,
A fragment of a dream, too dark to see,
Destroys the silence. Knowing what they were,
She recognises what she cannot be.
In every box a splinter of the past
Reveals another perfect moment, lost.
Their crippled notes, chaotic, never last.
She listens, and remembers what they cost.
So many broken boxes hold her voice,
Their song, as always, someone else’s choice.
Only Him by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Only Him
The dream believers breathe a sacred word,
Three children, sick, submissive, on their knees,
But, long before the creature’s hiss is heard,
The souls within their broken bodies freeze.
The sacrifice was destined for this day.
Their mothers mourn, but they, tonight, will die.
The priest kings, called to rip their hearts away,
Convince them not to question, not to cry.
Metallic tendrils slip inside the cave,
Towards what they were synthesised to seek.
The smallest boy, bewilderingly brave,
Proclaims that he will fight, however weak.
But this is why we swarm, we search, we swim.
The others do not matter. Only him.
Let Me Show You Magic by Gisburne, literature
Literature
Let Me Show You Magic
You roar, enraged, to witness where you are,
Resentful of the place I put your soul,
But why the hate, the heat? It’s just a jar.
The others died, but you were stolen, whole.
I will not take your sins across the Styx.
The Underworld would swallow them. What then?
No, let me show you magic. I can fix
The misery of unimportant men.
A little salt, to elevate the taste.
A little blood, as much as you can spare.
A pinch of all the dreams you never chased.
A simple spell, to rip, but not repair.
Tomorrow I can guide you to the light,
So tell me what you’ll do for me, tonight.
