Eviction notice

There is a garden which yearns to be seen,

This home pleasantly stands mid country side.

With tides of flowers flowing in the yard’s tub,

Peacocks discover shelter in this garden’s desert.

This vintage village of one stands alone for many acres.

With the grass perfectly trimmed by the barber,

And ecstatic picketed fences following to the harbor.

            The peacocks merge with the road blocking the sidewalk leading up to the front porch.  Their gorgeous feathers share similar shades with the flower bed bathtubs.  Attempting to step around them, my folder drops onto the white pearls filling the driveway without vehicles.  The documentations flow with the wind, taping corners, and gusting against the flagless pole.  When stuffing the paper back into my folder the statement final eviction notice prints in bold.  I cannot believe they want to remove this elderly woman from her beautiful home.  Upon reaching the top of the wooden staircase the red velvet door skulks open…

…Echoing eerie melodies of a screeching violin announces…

…Inside of the home awaits a numb greeting…

…With dreary wallpaper drooping off the bare walls…

…There wooden floor’s polish shift tremors absent…

…Every step reveals an ensuing howl…

….The scent of exotic sewage empowers the foyer…

…Dim lanterns awakens the living room…

…Creepy clown figurines smites the breathing…

…Puppet’s dangling from the ceiling patrol the area…

…An old fashion rocking chair paces in circles…

…The table overflows literature from the landlord…

“WHY                                                             from HELL!

are you                                                       trespassing,

 in my                                                  Getaway,

home?  Leave at once! 

this is my home.

If I EVER

sense your presence again

I’ll send imps and demons to haunt your every dream! 

GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!”

                A blistering hag materializes in image reflecting in a mirror from behind.  Her pale skin slithers with flaccid boasting stories.  Her gaping eyes suppress years of death, utopia of massacre, yearning for disturbing escape.  She approaches sinking into the darkness of plain sight.  The woman obsession yearns for scream.  Her night gown hemorrhages filth.  Her claws throw fury causing a stumble onto the tickled puppets.  Falling onto the shifting planks, the enthusiastic figurines leer.  The folder of documents depart my grasp gusting into stationary breeze.

Fleeing for my

 overbearing life,

 I aim for the door,

with blood sprinting marathons before arousal.

 My driving heart accelerates the imagination beyond ignition.

 Breaching the gates of hade’s… 

1.       First gear, I quit that fucking job.

2.       Second gear, was she a witch?

3.       Third gear, am I cursed?

4.       Four gear, I can’t wait to get home.

5.       Five gear, my fiancé needs to stay the night with me.

My wrists quiver with ideas of that old hag arising my conscience.  Get a grip.  I never have to go there again.  I am safe, it is over.  I just need a shot, hot bubble bath, and a good night’s rest… 

…Tranquility breaches my humble apartment.

Quiet candles in fumes my home with scents of lightning.  

Bubbles drives for a fresh height of relaxation. 

Steam wraps the ice cold glass of wine.

Harmonies from the iPod soothes the skin…

Knock, knock, knock, knock….

“Hold on, babe, I’m coming.”

Wet foot prints smear the fields of carpet.  Quivering thrills wrap the drying towel when nearing the door.  Almost there, you can stop knocking now…

“How does it feel, having strangers in your HOME?”

“Get out of here you crazy bitch!”

“That’s all I wanted.”

Underneath the door slides a final eviction notice signed in blood.  Relieving my towel I turn for cordless phone behind.  There in the shadows stands the filthy gown hag with rusty finger tips reaching for my face.

Reflections

This was a fun writing.  I had a really good time creating a piece that would blend poetry, prose, and narrative.  I used the season of Halloween in the fall time for inspiration with the horror aspect.  When starting I had a general idea of how I wanted it to go but after a while it just started to write itself.  I wanted the words to pop out not only for being poetic but in literal terms as well.  I never wrote anything like this before but honestly I feel like this would become a longer type of short story poetry blend.  It starts with poetry but just into narrative goes back into poetry but after that I’m not really sure what it’s doing.  It kind of blends between both but it never really goes back into neither genre; it was totally unintentional. 

I also had a little fun with the second page, first narration when the lady first appears, you can read what she says two different ways which is fun, and the multiple get outs were fun to place around giving like a sense of the furious woman constantly shouting.  Using the language I attempted to risk phrases that wouldn’t necessarily fit in its context so some of the descriptions are a little out there which I think works for the horror in it all.  And I left it off abruptly because what’s a horror story without a cliff hanger?