16:08 As she danced, she was to me like an angel, weightless; her sheer garment like wings made with milky water.
Frank Miller's graphic novels are what poetic pictures are made of. I have been a fan for a long time and here I make a vain attempt at recreation with a minor modification to add spice. (?)
the tender weightless misty threads
wisped, spiraled up and met with the stately figure
they kissed and caressed tender curves,
hugged as they rubbed and rose,
skidded upon a heaving curve,
hit upon the parabolic obstacle and dispersed
a hiss upon the glowing brands and new misty weightless rose
they knew their enchantment, they knew their instrumentality
snatched, they jetted into a dance with garments,
a fanning wing tugged at them until they entered the twin cave
and a dark bony clawed hand intruded upon the flawless milky skin
hoarse cackles mixed with velvet whispers
and drool stained the silk and satin
pale skin glowed and the curves convulsed
narcotic evanescence hovered expectant-
a squeal arose from within as coarse and sharp violated supple soft
eyes, unblemished white, glowing
hankered at her and a stained grin arose from the creature
as it held the chain that bound a celestial
the damned one rattled the fetters as he hobbled forward
and yanked the immaculate into a dirty embrace
her wings fluttered - resistant, as cracked lips
opened to reveal jagged rotting teeth
and went for the kiss of revelation
white iridescence hid the unimaginable coupling
and in a shriek the demon sucked all glory from the shackled star
he smiled as he searched the stolen nimbus for the sight
and within he saw his master in all his darkness
as he hovered over the earth, having cast the mistress of light asunder
his dark wings fluttered to cover the light
and flooded the world in eternal shadow
Inspired by Frank Miller's 300
Posted on August 21, 2009 by Antony Kamau
Perhaps I shall write another poem based on, well, Sin City. I am afraid it might be so gruesome that it would need an R-21 sticker.
in his final stand, covered in bloody majesty
his garb an impediment to what he had to do
he went to his knees in false defeat
he was no god-king
they had to know, his divinity was a sham
his fate the damned oracles could not forge
as his spear marked a god for defeat
10:34 
7:25 
4:45 
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