A social site for poets in Sydney.
Ivana was once a beautiful ballerina,
Admirers pursued her; Monaco, Prague … Cologne
blurry images of the past,
That night her life changed - Forever
Muted screams, searing rubber … melted onto tar
Mangled metal, shattered headlights,
The stench of dripping fuel
A year later, she bought a charming store
A rusty bicycle, leaning near the door
In a cobbled lane way, a faded sign reads …
“Crazy Daisy’s Antiques”
She spends the days talking to her self,
Collecting nostalgia, dusting the shelves
The locals chuckle, convinced she’s mad!
Does she care? She has them under her spell
Amidst French mirrors and tarnished gramophones,
she tidies a pile of tattered magazines,
singing to the tunes of Dixie jazz.
Her clientele adore her strange ways,
the way she dances with her dolls,
a seductress swaying her hips
Her crazed smile, contagious yet sad
Memories of Lucinda from that fateful crash
Swirling through the incense – Reflections enmeshed
Near the back, towards the counter,
the Ottoman lamp always burns.
Small minarets flicking across purple velvet,
eerie shadows play behind the curtain,
like a sinister pantomime, unfolding.
Some have heard the voice before,
Its raspy chill cutting through the black void!
Crazy Daisy sheds a tear
Her friend will always be near
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I re-read The Raven by Poe earlier and I was still in the mood for more spookiness, so thank you! :)
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