The Entreating Chronicles#1 “THE QUIBBLE QUASMS OF BELLE MORTE”

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

Greetings fellow spooks & ghouls.  Some random short pieces I decided to put together as possible ongoing compilation of “shorties” its a new year.  Time for a new outlook.  Enjoy the following tidbits.  As always feedback appreciated.

Pax,

Bone Mother Belleen ❤

 

I.

“Forgiveness. The scale you measure of the hurtful act that was done to be measured against the something that you love. There was a moment of falter, a cut so deep the impenetrable became the penetrated. The emotion of true sorrow felt so fluid embedded into entire psyche. If you love something you must love its evil as well as it’s innocence. To love only one part, one cannot love truly. You must accept the wiles,observe the hurt and measure the scale consciously. Forgiveness and love you must embrace to the bitterest of ends” ~T. B. Morte  © 2017~

 

II.

“What is black? A color so deep and engulfing it swallows light whole. Born from the shadows, nothing can be seen inside it. So black are the hearts of the fallen the weak are unable to fathom loving them. So dark were the souls of the broken the brave could not help but love them against all odds.”~ T.B. Morte © 2017 ~

 

III.

“Love your Hero, and love them well. For they have the spirit of giants and the bravery of fools. They will love what they endear so brutally, they will avenge any slight against them at all costs. They will carry you upon a broken back, they will be your shield, they will be your iron cladded will and word. But if you were to mock the love the Hero gives, you have foolisheartedly committed a most heinous act. You have broken their spirit. The hero then can no longer sing with shine, the song is now tainted, darkness slowly encrypted. The fool must now think of the catastrophe they have unleashed. They have morphed the Hero into a Villain.” ~T.B. Morte © 2017~

Your Suicidal Doll

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

A new offering of bones for the garden please enjoy the following selection.  Feedback always appreciated.

 

Spooky regards,

Bone Mother Belle ❤

 

Your Suicidal Doll 05/31/2017

Into the abysmal night she flew,

away from the gossamer webs,

far from the shadows of pale light,

The doll ran far away,

It was all she could do,

To hide the truth,

So that no one could see,

That the doll was falling apart,

Imperfections that could no longer be masked,

Everyone would see the ugly truth,

There would be whispers,

Words that traveled,

A reputation ruined that was held dear,

So into the abysmal night she flew,

To find her oblivion,

No one would care,

No being would grieve,

She will only be remembered,

By the way she so deceived,

And so into the night she flew,

To find a death that was worthy,

The worth of a doll.

© 2017 T.B. Morte

 

 

Scheherazade’s Ending

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

 

Its been a while since reading the  tales of Scheherazade, but what always fascinated me was that she used her wit to survive.  With this piece I wanted to use that same  aspect but the outcome to be much different indeed.

Scheherazade’s Ending 09/28/2016

I didn’t choose the harem life,

The harem life chose me,

From a young child,

Taken away,

Handed over,

I don’t remember,

For its all in the same,

I am entwined in the Caliphate,

To be sometimes cherished,

On occasion adored,

A face among many other flowers,

The wife of the Sultan,

Its privileges I am blessed with,

And its curses as well,

Devoted to one man till my dying breath,

Although my devotion will never be matched,

And often incurred is my husband’s wrath,

The flowers of the garden are often weeded out and replaced,

I did not chose the harem life don’t you see,

The harem life chose me,

I have learned it is better to be the rose,

Than the prickly thorn,

Lash after lash,

I learned it was not wise,

To speak out against the mighty Caliph,

My fellow flowers,

Who also felt the sting,

Did not agree,

So by under the Moon’s brightest beam,

I bore witness,

One by one,

They took their vengeance,

With  the sharpest of blades,

Piercing the Sultan’s skin,

Till there was nothing left of him,

My caste becoming a widow,

I did not chose the harem life,

The harem life chose me,

For it  is against the law,

To strike the skin of the Sultan,

For it is against the laws of the Harem,

to be without their Master,

The punishment is slow death,

Today I became a widow,

It is also the day that I shall die.

 

©2016 T.B.Morte

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In The Wood

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

 

My take on Goldilocks and the Three bears. Enjoy\m/

 

 In The Wood 09/18/2016

Beware the bears they said,

Over and over,

Spoken over the years,

Beware the bears,

They favor those with golden hair,

It was a myth,

I gathered nothing to fear,

So into the woods,

In the cover of darkness,

I made with abandoned haste,

In the heart of the woods,

I found myself,

I was lost,

I was alone,

Beware the bears,

They would  say,

They prey over those whose locks are gold,

I heard a footstep,

where everything else was silent,

Taking a sharp intake of breath,

As I heard a  bloodcurdling growl,

that sent shivers down my spine,

Turning slowly my eyes widened with fear,

There was the monster,

The bears were quite real,

Long was her brown hair,

Eyes were blue,

As she looked at me,

And I looked at her,

There were others that joined her,

Mirror images,

Long was their brown hair,

Eyes that were blue,

All female,

They accosted me,

coddled me,

whispered in a tongue,

I could barely understand,

as they kept touching my hair,

my golden ringlets,

I stayed in the forest,

beware the bears they said,

I learned their was nothing to fear,

Long was their brown hair,

Eyes that were blue,

Gold was my hair,

as were my cubs too.

© 2016  T.B. Morte

 

 

 

The Villetry of Fae

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

It seems we are clearly in the Alternate Fairy Tale phase again.  Please enjoy the following selection.

Spooky Regards,

Bone Mama Belleen

 

The Villetry of Fae 09/01/2016

There lies our dearest Beauty,
Deep in slumber,
Wrapped in gossamer,
Guarded by cobweb,
For an eternity,
Our beauty will slumber,

For there was no choice,
The spell had to be cast,
It was for the best,
Although many tears were shed,
To protect what we loved,
Against the others,
More importantly against Beauty herself,

This spell was cast before,
To salve Maleficent’s curse,
Beauty would receive true love’s kiss,
And things would begin anew,

There was another part of the curse,
No one knew save yet Maleficent,
It died with her as the prince destroyed her,
The kiss of the Prince carried the trace of Insanity,

As our Beauty awakened with life,
She could only see death,
So death she caused,
Her thirst for bloodlust could not be slaked,

Her Father the King battered and tortured,
Next was her mother the Queen burnt at the stake,
Quick work was made of the Prince with a beheading,
My sisters Flora and Fauna met a fate worse than death,
Their wings were ripped and torn asunder,
I being left the only survivor,

For what is a fairy without their wings?
Our beauty did this,
The princess we loved as a babe,
Guarded as a child,
Our Beauty in the end Maleficent’s gift,

So the spell was cast,
I muttered the incantation with a heavy heart,
As I became the villain,
Beauty fell into the deepest of slumbers,
This time no Prince to come with a rescuing kiss,
Only I the fairy Merriweather to watch over her,
Till the end of days,

My Briar Rose,
My darling Beauty,
My bane made of thorns.

©2016 T.B.Morte

The Sweet Prince

Omnibus in foro S.P.D.

The Bone Mother returns with a fresh helping of bones for the garden!  Returning to  my fairy tale roots with a interesting twist to “Snow White & Prince Charming”.  I decided to go with prose format to give a more haunted tone.  This is dedicated to a very special person my waifchu a London Amaterasu-Hecate an incredible person I met at a very cool place.  Thank you London for being my rock and anchor in the stormy seas ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

 

The Sweet Prince 08/30/2016

Did I know him?
They would ask me,
Should I laugh at these curious inquiries?
Or do I frown in scorn?
Of course I knew him,

You all know the tale,
The royal children,
The princess whose skin was pale as snow,
The prince whose destiny was to be charming,
Our parents celebrating our future before we could crawl,

When mother died,
Our destiny bound tighter,
As Father was determined to honor the pact,
So we grew up together,
Fighting and tumbling,
we did everything together,
Over the years our hearts grew fonder,

Then one day a stranger entered our kingdom,
Whose beauty was shrouded in mystery,
And there began my misery,
As she took everything away from me,
All I held dear,

My stepmother with her tricks of illusion,
Slowly killed my doting father,
Bound me in chains and slavery,
Leaving me to the whims of her pet Hunter,

But what I could not and will not forgive,
Is the breaking of my sweet prince,
Broken in spirit,
Twisted in mind,
Destroyed of heart,

Did I know him?
You would ask this of me?
I knew him the best,
Loved him the most,

I loved him,
Before the dwarves,
Before the poisonous apple,
Before I knew what love was,
I loved the Prince,

Even in madness,
As I no longer the see the charming prince,
But the creature the Queen has made,
Dark is his heart,
Pale is my skin,
I love him still.

©2016 T. B.Morte

Dead Men Tell No Tales

Dead Men Tell No Tales 07/27/2016

Dead men tell no tales,

At least that is what has been told to thee,

As my love and I oscillated towards the sea,

Further into the waves we danced to and fro,

The kelp wrapping around  our ankles,

While cuttlefish tickled our toes,

Further into the sea we were pulled,

I was not afraid for I felt at home,

As I looked into my lover’s eyes,

Beguiled he was deeply enchanted ,

Failed to noticed the water levels had risen,

Or that my form had changed,

My legs gone replaced by spined fish tail,

Propelling us deeper into the ocean,

I heard my love cry out as his lungs were filled with salt water,

The lack of oxygen did him in,

Pity my jolly sailor bold,

As he went  limp in my arms,

I released my love and watched his body float towards the depths below,

Pity that he loved  a siren,

His story will be kept silent forever by his death,

For a dead man cannot tell a mermaid’s tale.

©2016 T.B. Morte

 

 

Death Of A Star

Death Of A Star 02/07/2016

You said once that you looked upon me like a star,

bright and luminous,

a supernova of cosmic wonder,

 

Over the passages of time,

when arguments and calamity,

replaced our passion,

 

You no longer saw a star,

you saw a broken visage,

battle weary,

bruised by tears and arguments,

stitched back together over and over,

 

Unable to fix the heartache,

You left your star behind,

To suffer a death so powerful,

More everlasting than the star’s life.

 

©2016 T.B. Morte

From the Collection “Spellbound Diavolina Morbidia”

 

 

Most Newest Poem

Omnibus in foro S.P.D. It would seem the Bone Mamma is trying to make a comeback.  This here is my most newest poem.  Feedback as always appreciated! *smiles*

Spooky Regards,

Bone Mamma Belle

Unbinding 02/03/2014

On this day,

I do unwind,

the ties between you and I,

On this day, ends the journey where it began,

This anniversary of undoing,

On this day, I shall sever,

what brought you and I together,

Setting aflame the ties that bind,

For now and ever,

Several years ago back when,

You were mine,

And I was thine,

Several years later,

I am not who I was back then,

And I see the reflection clearly in the mirror,

Of what was always in front of me,

Your love I could claim never,

On this day by twilight’s dawn,

I undo the promise that was given broken,

For evermore you shall not have to linger,

I cast you away like a stranger,

For now and forever I am no longer thine,

and you are no longer mine.

©2014 Tragedienne Belle Morte

A Poetic Response to “Amontillado”

Omnibus in foro S.P,D,

It’s probably apparent by now that I am a HUGE fan of Edgar Allen Poe.  For quite some time I have been wanting to write a poetic response to the first stanza of my favoritest Poe short-story.  That being “The Cask of Amontillado”  it is something about the very first stanza that intrigued me writing senses for quite some time.  Finally my muse and I were in enough accord to do something about it.  Here is my PR (Poetic Response) to one of the best vengeance stories of all time.  I will post the original stanza and the follow-up being my own PR.  Comments and feedback not only welcomed but certainly most appreciated.

Spooky Regards,

Bone Mamma Belle

THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge.  You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance to a threat. AT LENGTH I would be avenged; this was a point definitively settled — but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk.  I must not only punish, but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser.  It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.”  

— Excerpt From “The Cask of Amontillado” by Edgar Allen Poe

Fortunato’s Words 10/06/2012 (Poetic Response)

Montresor hath said to others that I had borne him a thousand injuries. Never did he in his gentility ever utter the word of revenge to others.  Yet such thoughts of sweet vengeance can be just as deadly left in the mind of such morosity. I who bear the name of Fortunato know full well the nature of souls of  such as my passive aggressor. At no short length would he be avenged and he is a novice at such impunities.   A wrong can be addressed by retribution but at what length would its avenger go to have such retribution. Be careful not to avenge yourself so much that you also commit the wrong you are trying to avenge.

©2013 Tragedienne Belle Morte