The Travellers

Since Deviantart makes it tough to view 'mature' themed work unless you sign up, I'm putting my #inktober for today here. Enjoy!

The Succubus and the Rakshasa, co-conspirators and dimensional travellers, causing evil wherever they go! (c) 2015 Suzanne Marsden

Parade Black

It's been a long time since I've written poetry, and even longer than I can remember that I've stood in front of people and read what I'd written.

I'm fortunate to be a part of an amazing group of writers and poets who accept and don't judge, encourage and dissect (without leaving a corpse behind!)

I'm grateful to the wonderfully talented Bobby Salvin, award-winning poet, author and artist for inviting me to join this year's writing group. Without this group of interested and cool people, it's unlikely 'Parade Black' would've been dislodged from my brain, while I was tightening my laces last week. Thank you!

Parade Black

The shoes lasted longer than the job.

The interview outfit still hangs unworn-

The good clothes carefully saved for later.

The trappings and plumage you present

Like the good silver and the China plates

Only dusted off for Easter

And awkward internet dates.

The hesitant smile

The captured bird

Fluttering madly in its bony cage

The steady gaze

The confident gait

The sway of self

And firm handshake.

Trotted out twice a year to caper and perform

Then carefully hung back on its hook

Because that is not your norm.

The rictus and unblinking eyes,

Which punch-clock cruelly victimized

The creative heart, the fairy wing

Crushed by a nametag on a string.

     The crawling commute

     The daily pressure

     To conform, fit in, be timely and grin,

          Grin,

               GRIN—

No matter the strain and hopeless pain

Of a desperate creature circling the drain,

The foundering horse in unceasing rain

For one who dared go against the grain.

The shoes lasted longer than the job.

True, they’re not new,

     The leather’s cracked,

          The sole’s worn through,

But they fit more comfortably

Than proper jobs do.

And the interview pants, worn sparingly

At gatherings with friends and family,

Not for those you’d hoped to impress

Are fitting in a little better

As you are

     Loosed of unwelcome fetters.

Suzanne A. Marsden

© September 28^th, 2015