Thursday, March 31, 2016

HER LOST LOVE




The lights turn on in the room so dark.
We came here for a dare and a lark.
The rooms are deserted and cold.
Ghosts would be present we were told.

All we see are dust and deserted rooms.
No one has lived here in so many moons.
The quiet is unnerving and thick.
Time for us to leave this scene real quick.

Something doesn’t feel right.
We must turn and take flight.
Before the noise from above
Thinks we are her lost love.

The weeping woman is coming near.
She dances and chuckles at our fear.
The doors and windows are locking.
Our escape the ghost is blocking.

BLANKET OF WATER


Source:

A soothing blanket of water
Wrapping around my body.
It refreshes and awakens me
To the wonders of the clear world.
I can see fish and dolphins
Swimming below me in the sea.
There’s no other place I’d rather be.

THE MOON FALLS




The moon falls in silence.
Into the sea it sinks.
Head is bowed in prayer.
We all know what it thinks.

“Leave this town right now,”
It says with its might.
It has no strength left
For the next great fight.

The Dead will walk the dark streets.
Shadows leave no trail behind
Of the murder and mayhem
That will all too soon be found.

THE DEAD GAME

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

PLAY ME A SONG


“Self Portrait with a Harp” (1791) (detail) by Rose-Adélaïde Ducreux (1761-1802).

Play me a song.
Don’t get me wrong.
I love your singing voice.
But the harp is my choice.
The music soothes my sad soul.
From the day taking its toll.
I need the music today.
Please sit down for me and play.

ICE BURNS HOT



They come from the deep.
They come when you sleep.
On waves of ice and stone.
They’ll burn you to the bone.
Fire burns hot in the ice.
It doesn’t feel so nice.
When it hits your body,
Time for them to party.
The Dead love to eat.
Humans their best treat.
Stay far from the shore,
Or they’ll ask for more.

THE DEAD GAME

JUSTICE IS CRUEL


Justice is cruel.

It walks the halls.
It moves too slow.
It bends all to its will.
We run from it.
We bow to it.
We fear it.
It takes no prisoners.

INTO THE JUNGLE


Source:


Take me into the jungle.
Across the bamboo bridge.
To where it’s hot and humid.
And exotic creatures come to life.
Branches hit me in the face.
Bugs bite my hands and legs.
Greenery attempts to bury me.
But this is the life I want to live.

FOUR MEN




I see the men.
They are walking.
Through the cold forest.
Coming closer to my house.
Snow swirls around them.
Their feet crunch on the ice.
There are four of them.
Why are they here?
Four men of the night.
The window mists from my breath.
It fogs my view of them.
I must run.
I must hide.
There are four of them.

LIGHT UP THE WORLD


followthewestwindDeactivated

Wiggle.
Shake.
Whirl.
Life is good.
Life is beautiful.
In so many ways.
With so many colors.
Purple.
Blue.
Fuchsia.
Do a little dance.
Shake your rainbow.
Light up the world.

Monday, March 28, 2016

IN THE NIGHT



He comes in the night for me.
He is much too strong for me.
His beauty I can only see.
His evil is hidden from me.
I do not see his grotesque face.
Only his mask he puts in place.
Take me with you now in the night.
To me you’re a beautiful sight.
He lifts me high into the air.
And whisks me away to his lair.
THE DEAD GAME

MUSIC OF THE ROAD




It’s a long and beautiful road. 
Music can soothe the soul.
Life can takes its hard toll.
You need time to roam.
Far away from home.
Listen to the music of the road.
If I may be so open and bold.
Watch the bright colors unfold.
It can be gorgeous I’m told.

A SIGH OF NIGHT


Epiphanie © Etienne Cabran

It’s here.
Too near.
A mist of white.
A sigh of night.
Through the window.
“You friend or foe?”
A cold touch of ice.
Doesn’t feel too nice.
It now whispers away,
“You’re not welcome to stay.”
I’m leaving now.
I don’t care how.
Fingers wrap around my neck.
On my cheek I feel a peck.
Could that be a kiss?
Wasn’t hard to miss.
I’m chilled to the bone.
I’ve turned to cold stone.