Broken Thing

broken thing


He's broken and I know
Things he lets show give him away
still I tell him "stay..."

He cries at night when he thinks no one can hear
but I've got an ear, for this type of thing
so I come awake just to watch him sting

I drown in his grief, like it's some
kind of relief, and it makes me ache all the more
for him... what dark path would I not explore?

And oh... how his suffering ensnares me
and his cries... an unholy prayer to Thee
engenders a virtuous need in me, and yet...
it's a vulturous greed 
that takes seed

La Fée


©  Odyne La Fée 2018





Fast now

as fast as you

can, this girl

has ran

Fast now and

we’ll all pray

The world is melting,

going away

From iceberg

to iceberg

a suicide

of biblical

proportions, made mythical

It’s fast now

fast as you

ran, sniff the flowers

while you can

Remember the towers

These evil powers

make us run

out into a blazing sun

when all we need

in nature’s seed

They’re killing thee

You’ll see..

with their boundless

foundless greed


La Fée


©  Odyne La Fée 2018

me eyes

A mountain before, a mountain behind, and all I’ve ever known is the climb

One hill, then the next, all of them new, and none of them what I had set out to do

A mountain before, a mountain behind, a care-worn weariness consuming my mind

One day, then another; and with each slip my own light I smother

A mountain before, a mountain behind, and through it all a soul refined

One breath, one beat, and then the rest, and so goes this mortal quest.


La Fée



©  Odyne La Fée 2018


The Extraction

lap paddle BW.jpg

I pull the ache from the well you ran dry

Then leave you there, about to cry

Oh yes, oh yes, you cry out your shame

Didn’t you know, this is how we play Her game

And this… this agony… your claim to fame

A willow-branch from eternal acclaim

Yet here you are callin’ out my name

Like it’s all the same


La Fée



©  Odyne La Fée 2018

I Fall

I Fall

I came to the desert a postulant, a supplicant, to the sun

laid bare-belly to the scorched-desert sand, a ritual begun

Stripped and whipped, I begin to understand

Blood and time had made this land

But Something else lingers here…

A gentle knowing grace, an ever-familiar face

And it’s into Her pain-filled embrace

I fall…

Ever-determined to heed Her call


La Fée



©  Odyne La Fée 2018

Caught My Eye

man heaving rope

It’s so very hard to look away

when a man’s masculinity is on display, at play;

a thousand times a day

holding me in sway, until upon him I prey.

Or until another one has me undone,

unsprung, my sharp tongue unwrung.

And suddenly I’m once again chasing the frictions,

of my predilections.

And the inflictions of my indomitable conflictions

have got me dreaming, and scheming,

about a strong man that needs a good reaming;

until mad with desire he finds he’s finally creaming

that seething.

But don’t forget… it’s me that’s still teething.

So soon I’ll find another one, that fits like a glove

all the fantasies I’ve yet to dream of, conceive of.

Could this one be real love,

with his perfect eyes, and tender thighs?  A variety of sighs

he’d realize, if only he’d give in, to my particular brand of sin.

Or until another one’s caught my eye, as he passes on by,

and with a wink, and a slink, and suddenly I can’t think.

And so I follow, and tell him I’ll swallow

all his pretty lies,

with my inglorious cries.

La Fée


©  Odyne La Fée 2018

That Midnight Ride

country road


That midnight ride, out into the country side, when you thought you were all alone, I was there. 

Like that whispered dream at morning’s seam, or that tenderness you could never quite place. 

That gentle gale, that mysterious perfumed inhale, why even that trepidation upon your lips… oh my darling, it was always the ghost of my hips.

How deep in your belly, a bowl full of jelly, whenever you looked upon my face, cuz you knew, deep in your bones, in all those yet unheard moans, I was the one to unravel you. 

My love, mi amore, my ravenous conquistador.


La Fée

©  Odyne La Fée 2018

Those Azure Eyes

Azure Eyes

His Eyes came in cruel waves,

involuntarily, I know,

for he could not, not now,

nor never would,

truly understand their blow.


That once I knew those eyes,

once, a very long, long time ago;

a millennia or more,

upon a distant shore;

how they’d brought me to all fours.


By seven I knew,

and at every age – as I grew,

they’d been there, haunting my sleep,

and in them ancient secrets making me weep.


For our lives are not, and have never been

held fast to time, and place,

yet I believe no one could misplace

the visceral recognition upon either face.


For in that meeting we both knew

that fate and time had once again made do,

yet this time, didn’t I see a glimmer of something new?


And I wondered, just for a moment, if fate

was something we could at long last abate.


Or would those azure eyes

once again bring about my bloody demise?


La Fée

©  Odyne La Fée 2018


When We Lived In A Wild Wood The World Was Perfect

wild wood


Tamed by well-informed hands, she was the lover you first knew; splayed open and vulnerable, she allowed you to plum her lush and mysterious depths.

Giving of her mysteries only once you’d learned the secret language of her hills, and her valleys; once their stories became the histories of your tales.

But your hands grew cold, and your teeth grew jagged, as your hunger grew ever so cruel; and with your insatiable need, and your shameless and calamitous greed, you supplanted all that was perfect and instead replaced it with a rotten and repugnant seed.

La Fée

©  Odyne La Fée 2018

I often wander…

forest trees fog foggy
Photo by Jaymantri on

I was born of the Earth, as much as of any human mother, and yet it was Her bosom that suckled and nourished me as I grew.  And into Her arms I still run for refuge.  The human who gave birth to me had been too distracted by a need to compress as much pain and suffering into a single-point in space and time to ever be there for me.  Let alone nurture me.  But Mother was there.

And though I know Shee was with me always, it was high up in an Alpine Fir where I first heard Her sing.  Out amongst the branches, amongst the pine cones and the bugs, there was Her voice singing, and whispering to me truths that no one else cared speak.  And so I listened, and I learned, for many long and happy years.

I visit Her still, out there among the worms and the ferns, where Her primordial wisdom speaks in whispers, imparting a gentle knowing through Her subtle showing… that tips Her hat in such splendid ways; if only one is watching, and listening, and feeling.

Deep into Her darkness I often wander, alone for hours, yet never lonely, just once again that little girl with twigs in her hair.

La Fée

©  Odyne La Fée 2018

An Uncommon Complacency

*Take Hwy 35 north, until it don’t go north anymore…long road.JPG
There’s an uncommon complacency – out here among the trees;
a relaxing of everything – except for those immortal mysteries.
No broadcast news, no corporate control,
only the loons and my fractured soul.
But cast deep within the shadows of this dark-twilight wood
is a secret no man has ever understood.
For a secret language lingers here
yet it’s only whispered into the feminine ear.
For this is where the Goddess dwells
and by her Grace I’ve come under her spell.


La Fée

©  Odyne La Fée 2018

Dolus Annon


A life without pain would seem a shame
for the master would lose her pupil
and all the evils of the world quadruple
In love, in life, and especially death
pain hides behind every breath
a whispered warning that comes too late
it springs upon us through any open gate
Yet stroll awhile in her shade
and everything comes to light
Her touch, when mastered
also produces


La Fée



He is the unbroken one, the outspoken one,
the oaken one with famine in his eyes;
and how he hates all of the lies, and the shit      
they supply.
A gravity behind the disguise, pulls him towards the sun
where he’ll be undone,
under the gun he cannot run, but falls, falls into a restless wind,
where all thoughts rescind and memories… thinned.
He’s a wanderer, a ponderer, and a lonely launderer of dirty deeds
and darker needs, and yet… all passions sought and bought are eventually sold.
He tells himself he’s not too old, denies it ‘til he’s distraught.
But it’s all been for naught, for it’s he whose been caught.
For the night is fraught for the querulous cowboy,
the envoy,
who can’t seem to enjoy, or employ all the wilder things,
imaginings often brings,
even when his lonely heart sings.

La Fée