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Monday, March 19, 2012

Little Red Riding Hood

Little Red Riding Hood by northwoodsluna
Little Red Riding Hood, a photo by northwoodsluna on Flickr.
Little Red Riding Hood, a sketch done to be collaged into a journal for the Circle Jerks round robin, colored with Prisma pencils and marker I love darker versions of fairy tales. I have not decided which of the following 3 poems I will use for the journal spread, Perhaps all 3. I'm pleased with the way she came out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Red Riding Hood had a pretty good time with the wolf


by KarenDaly


Because maidens

Burn

Like celluloid,

They fitted

Me

With a

Hood,

A

Fire-fighting

Talisman

For

My own

Inner blaze.

And yet

We reciprocate

Like conversation,

Tongues embracing

Teeth

And appetites

In

Private riot.

My forest-dog,

My liege,

My gentleman

King Kong

Lights up

An

Amazon boudoir

(Two women

The

Same night!)

He hushes

My manners,

Uncapes me

With

A God's

Hairy hand,

Imperative

As sex

And

As sweet

As darlings

New-found

And thumbling

In ears

The remembrance

Of

What ever

Was.


He perished

In my

Second birthing,

In my

Learning

Of the

Purest heresy

Of

Blood and guts.

Now

I keep

My strangers

Strained,

But sometimes

Even

The moon

Looks like

A man

In a dress

``````````````````````````````````````````````

The Coup de Grace
by Edward Rowland Sill
(1841–87)

Just at that moment the Wolf,
Shag jaws and slavering grin,
Steps from the property wood.
O, what a gorge, what a gulf
Opens to gobble her in,
Little Red Riding Hood!

O, what a face full of fangs!
Eyes like saucers at least
Roll to seduce and beguile.
Miss, with her dimples and bangs,
Thinks him a handsome beast;
Flashes the Riding Hood Smile;

Stands her ground like a queen,
Velvet red of the rose
Framing each little milk-tooth,
Pink tongue peeping between.
Then, wider than anyone knows,
Opens her minikin mouth,

Swallows up Wolf in a trice;
Tail going down gives a flick,
Caught as she closes her jaws.
Bows, all sugar and spice.
O, what a lady-like trick!
O, what a round of applause!


from An American Anthology, 1787–1900 (1900).

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````
The Wolf's Postcript to 'Little Red Riding Hood'
by Agha Shahid Ali

First, grant me my sense of history:
I did it for posterity,
for kindergarten teachers
and a clear moral:
Little girls shouldn't wander off
in search of strange flowers,
and they mustn't speak to strangers.

And then grant me my generous sense of plot:
Couldn't I have gobbled her up
right there in the jungle?
Why did I ask her where her grandma lived?
As if I, a forest-dweller,
didn't know of the cottage
under the three oak trees
and the old woman lived there
all alone?
As if I couldn't have swallowed her years before?

And you may call me the Big Bad Wolf,
now my only reputation.
But I was no child-molester
though you'll agree she was pretty.

And the huntsman:
Was I sleeping while he snipped
my thick black fur
and filled me with garbage and stones?
I ran with that weight and fell down,
simply so children could laugh
at the noise of the stones
cutting through my belly,
at the garbage spilling out
with a perfect sense of timing,
just when the tale
should have come to an end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life is good!

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