Believe

“I believe in ghosts,” I said

“I enjoy how they fill me with dread.”

“Ghosts,” you laughed,

“bored memories of a broken past.”

 

“Not mine,” I state, finger lifted in the air,

“I mean spirits rising, swaying through a misty tear.”

“Ah,” you sigh, “you believe this world before the next,

is ours as no more than a test?”

 

“A spectral test!” I cry

“Oh, but should I die,

my answers will be all too dim,

a fear of what lacks deep within,

when truth revealed, weightless on a dusty scale,

a feather sinking ever lower, causing yawning angels pale

 

and tried and weak and all but meek,

fingers pat on heaven’s gate

ba dum ba dum

a stolen sound from final breaths

ba dum ba dum

my final beats played on holy drum

ba dum ba –

 

– but, oh! A boring life,

of lack of sin

How I but laugh and I do grin,

while gates turn in

my feet brought down on marble floors,

as I venture through Lord’s –”

 

“You lie!”

your voice is cold and raw,

all kinship vanished from before

 

A sigh, a laugh, a sneer, a jeer,

as footsteps gather ever near

How does this darkness,

all consume

this sudden confusion

clouding room

once known, once mine,

or so I thought, in other time

 

I pause, I wait, in silence seek

a calmer mind, until I find

your breath soon whisper beside my ear,

your form silhouette of ancient fear,

“You dare deceive of your life crimes,

as death knell marks your final chimes?”

 

At this I fall before your feet,

a demon I pray never meet

“Oh cruel decider of my fate,

I could not dream at heaven’s gate,

I did once stand,

my toes dipped in blessed sand,

fingertips in reach of forgiving hand.

 

Could not you reach and grasp,

as I do for forgotten past,

a sinner yes, believer no,

never guided down which path to go.

 

If god forgives as I have heard,

then surely redemption I deserve

as by a trickster I was lured!”

 

You stand before my destined door,

I kneel and tremble as afore

A hand does grasp as I did beg,

yet upon unholy pastures I soon tread.”

 

 

Hey everyone!

This is my response to The Daily Post’s prompt Believe. It’s weird where a starting line can go, ain’t it? I don’t know what I intended to do with this when I first wrote down “I believe in ghosts” but here we are iiiinnn hellllll! Damnatttiiiooonnn! Ahahah. That’s right! If I’m going I’m dragging you all with me. Sorry, not sorry, and all that. How else am I supposed to sit in a corner creepily while there’s a party going on?

Anyway, I hope this was alright and that someone enjoyed it. You, yes, you there! You enjoyed it right? Right?!

Okay, time to wrap this up. You know how easily I can go on for a ten page ramble.

Thanks for reading!

 

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Deny

I deny the notion,

no, the idea,

concept,

thought,

that your heart was ever mine to break.

I’ll put it simply, but not kindly.

I deny your touch,

I deny the push of your lips against mine

and the feel of your hands on my hips.

I deny the utterance of the words “I love…”

No,

you’ll feel your lies jilted by my fingertips,

the way you stilled my cries.

Hush hush

“your sorrow is not for today”

but there never came a tomorrow.

Here’s the catch,

the key I hold to the lock,

you didn’t see.

It’s in my hand,

it’s forming these letters to sculpt these words

and create this poetry.

In short, I’ll put it simply, but again, not kindly.

I’m a writer, bitch,

you can’t hush me.

 

 

Hey everyone!

Here is my response to the word prompt Deny over at The Daily Post. I almost didn’t post it, but if I want to use this blog to get writing down and out I can’t be fussing over things not being just as I like them. Some things need to be on and of the moment and if I look back at them and cringe then meh, so be it. I never tried to fool anyone into thinking I was perfect. I am perfect though…look into my eyes…peeerrrrfeeecc….no? Damnit! I knew I should have stayed in magician school!

I’ve seen Grabbety Covens’ response to this (which is great) and I’m hoping to see some more!

Sympathy

20170914_192216

Sympathy for you,

                                           is that for the devil.

Hidden beyond the river,  in the mouth of a god.

a tireless melody

once irresistible,

now tuneless,

rehearsed without song.

Echo forth, in search,

it finds me.

Kneeled down, wounds concealed

in mud that clings

jealously.

Magicians step, between natures gold,

amber, red,

tears of the forest,

soundless above the fall of the Earth.

In casted shade, broken shadow of dusk,

my senses tricked

I pause.

Fool,

forever tempted, by ancient dance.

Cupped salvation,

secret of ageless alchemist,

                                                               antidote to deceivers curse,

Holy water

flows over lovers palms, through marked destiny,

branded by sun, obeyed by moonlight,

 lifted upwards,

before a silhouette.

My sympathy,

Magician,

I offer to you.

 

 

 

Hello everyone!

I finally motivated myself to take part in a word prompt, just uh, a little late (this is from Tuesday). The prompt “sympathy” is from the blog The Daily Post. Is this a blog? Or wordpress witchcraftery? Not sure! I’m following it either way.

I might write another post deconstructing the poem and talking about how each part is relevant. However, poetry is supposed to be whatever is made of it by the reader, and with that in mind, I might not. The only reason I guess I’d do it would be from a writer to writer perspective. The workings out like in maths, so to speak.

The cards in the picture are from the incredibly (and I mean incredibly) beautiful Shadowscapes Tarot Deck.

I hope you enjoyed this.

As always, thank you for reading!

Arbie x

 

Midnight

I once wrote of stars,

to forget them, in love,

as they too once forgot,

and abandoned the sky

leaving the night blind

 

I once thought love a curse,

a beauty shadowed,

a glass heart shattered

and left in pieces

to shine in the morning dew

 

When I no longer looked to the sky,

had forgotten the stars,

and left myself blind,

weary of the darkest hour,

I found you in midnight

 

I found you in the abandoned sky

and eternity of our nights

 

I no longer needed to search the sky

you brought its stars to me on upturned palms

I gave you my heart

that you might hold it amongst them

 

And that we may find eternity

and eternity will be our midnight

Poem

I’m here again, a home so far,

From what I imagined heart to be,

Love to be,

So far from my own self, my sense of joy,

I’m here again,

Where images are,

Where thoughts dwell,

And memories unseen claw out at me

I’m lost in dreams where nightmares wake

And sleeping just for les vivants sake

As hair tumbles down, and nails tear down,

And I stay down,

And I stare down,

At nothingness, at blackness, at a glimpse in to what is not mine,

With eyes closed and lips sewn,

And hands tied,

And heart bound,

I’m here again.

The Depth of Us

Words not yet written will soon spill from hands

that have felt and touched and scraped across such different paths

and wiped from eyes tears that spilled for the past

We glance yet we do not speak to the stranger on the street

If only our mind would wander from fear and solitude

to a place of kindness, acceptance, away from our servitude

to our empty acceptance of loneliness, of life as you and I

as separate and unspoken our pain may be

understand the notion of what it means to yearn for humanity

For we are the ones that will guide our future

our words written without blood on our hands

our poems littered across the streets of this land.