Irony story

 In the morning i begin my routine of getting the kids on the bus and letting my excitable dog out. I grab the paper from its deliverer he receives his weekly ten dollar tip. Reading the papers day in and day out describing the horrors of a mass murderer. How he's getting messy leaving the bodies about, instead of burying them or hiding them at all. Supposedly he still roaming. What i'm not quite understanding is how a person could go that far off the deep-end. I wonder if he has a family, children? Maybe he single. I've always wondered about the twisted horrors within their minds, thoughts of killing related with enjoyment sounds like acid to me, eating away at my skin. I wonder deeply how much their head hurts. My dog prances around the room happy to be eating his breakfast. I go on reading the sickening paper wondering what i myself would do if i found myself in the position of a mass murderer standing over me. would it be like in the movies? where you open the door at 2am wondering who's knocking and open the door in curiosity? The murderer has killed 15 people all in the same sick twisted way. They all are gutted. I hate the paper, yet i still read the damn thing. Eh the hell with it. I go about my day, listening to the squabbles of people whispering of the horrors in the night. Its like theyre talking about “the one who must not be named” people were not talking about voldemort. I try my best to ignore them, such annoyances, my brain feels fuzzy. I make my way home, feed my wagging dog and lay upon my bed. brain fuzzy and full i fall. The next morning i awake, i'm covered in blood, what? i rush to the bathroom and find a knife. what even? my mind starts to buzz again. blackness. Its nothing but acid.

Original/ unrevised

Pastoral

The mountains peek above the clouds

majestic, strong, withstanding horrors of winter

the tips of the mountain sprinkled with freeze dried snow

flowers cling to steep slopes 

protected by the rocks

the rocks weathered and rough

hey are truly everlasting

the trees are shortened at the heights

due to their lack of breath

much like the reactions of the passerbyer

truly remarkable as it stands

forever timeless

Epitaph

As she strongly insisted,

her memory is happy and unfaltering

As she insisted,

a wordless stone, to which i have altered

As i kindly disobeyed, 

because i know it make her smile 

Free write 

Hay spikes the nose sensations

The horses paw at their rubber mats

The grain room filled with their temptations

Flakes tossed upon the flats

The sun peeks through the weathered wood door 

The air warm and still 

Gentle beasts dance for more 

They are still hungry 

A saddle placed upon ones back

He snorts and dances in the hall 

Mounted and dressed in all his tack 

Unnerved by any fall 

A seat upon pads 

He prances, hands gripping leather 

All thoughts melt 

Because is just him and I together

Epitaph

As she insisted,

her memory is happy and unfaltering

As she required,

a wordless stone, to which i have altered

As i disobeyed,

because i know it make her smile

Free Therapy (Free Verse)

Hay spikes the nose sensations

The horses paw at their rubber mats

The grain room filled with their temptations

Flakes tossed upon the flats

The sun peeks through the wood door

The air warm and still

Gentle beasts beg for more

They haven't seemed to get their fill

A saddle placed upon ones back

He snorts and dances in the hall     

Mounted and dressed in all his tack

Unnerved by any fall

A seat upon felt

He prances, hands gripping leather

All thoughts melt

Because is just him and I together

Pastoral

The mountains peek above the puffy clouds

majestic, strong, withstanding horrors of winter

the tips sprinkled with freeze dried snow

flowers cling to steep slopes

protected by the rock faces

the rocks weathered and rough

they are truly everlasting

the trees are shortened at altitudes

due to their lack of breath

much like the reactions of the passerbyer

truly remarkable as it sits

forever timeless

Two Tone

The ham comes out glazed and punctured with sweet sweet pineapple, it sits upon the table, utterly mouthwatering. perfectly pink and moist, succulent. Its been carved to perfection each slab perfectly sliced. Upon my plate its cut into perfect squares, and covered in raisin sauce. The sauce is sweet with warm plump raisins, mixed with the juicy ham it creates a eruption of flavorful joy in my mouth. Every bite creates the same reaction much like when diet coke and mints mix together to create an explosion, just complete satisfaction. Easter ham is nothing but incredible.

The ham overcooked, and dry. I punch it around my plate with my fork and knife, unable to cut it. The fat has taken up 60% residence in the ham, destroying it. The raisin sauce is dry and cold, and the raisins are dry. i try once again to cut the stone ham. Nope its not stone its a diamond, unable to crush or cut. Easter ham is far from any food id like to eat.