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Return Of The Queen

She was hollow,
slit within an inch of a rictus grin
so air could seep through her sour kingdom.
Gut drawn against bone,
tight as twine, hideously lined,
weighted by stone.
Sightless eyes
that roamed beyond parchment skin,
took no notice of condition she's in.
All seeing, undefeated,
ready to waylay,
enough remains to disquiet,
riots infuse worm dusted bones
where no crown nor sceptre
nor gilded letters inform.
Not one word will be heard
in silence as you raise the lid,
empty of the sin
that's hid and the curse of it is,
she stands right behind you.

6 Sep 08

Rated 8.7 (9) by 3 users.
Active (3): 8
Inactive (2): 9, 9, 9, 10

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i like the dark side of you larry. i would like to see more of this.
lines 2 and 13 are great.

do you need a definite article in line 9?
 — raskolniikov

Larry Queenly Lark
 — unknown

A couple of stumbles, but could've been a me thing. Still quite solid.
 — themolly

Dear raskolniikov

I too would also like to see more of the dark side of Larry, but he keeps it well hidden. I often wake up in the mornin' and i yawn "Larry! when we gonna see more of your dark side." an' he replies, "Barry! When we finally arrive at the dark side of the moon", and that's all i can tell you about the "Mysterious Mr. Larks dark side my friend, but if i am given further information then sure as Bush won't be the next president i will pass it on to you.

Larry's best friend Barry
 — larrylark

Unknown serving wench unknown
 — larrylark


please excuse my stumbles as i cannot cope with them any more.

Larry slipping and a sliding Lark
 — larrylark

This kind of poetry draws me right in from the first line.  I have no idea at all what it's about but it does not matter, it sounds right.  Line 2 is so compelling, all sort of images come to mind.  
 — Isabelle5

Dear Isabelle

Thank you

Larry imagine Lark
 — larrylark

Larry. I read recently there was a strong Republican sentiment in the UK in the 1870's. Is your poem inspired by this? I have read one satirical poem from this time and your poem touches on the dry wit of pageantry.
 — Rossant