"'We must not look at goblin men, / We must not buy their fruits: / Who knows upon what soil they fed / Their hungry thirsty roots?'"
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Moonburnt Soul
The night sky stirs and stars follow dizzy rotations
Fog billows in the air, smoke of an invisible fire
Cold, cold swirls dance between the constellations
You stand there watching and fuel your own pyre
You used to sit in the same place, talking on and on all night
You told me all your secrets, all the rumors old and new
Now you lay there without any protest or fight
Moonburnt soul, what happened to you?
Warmth was all you ever wanted, warmth is what you deserve
Now in one way or another, warmth is what you're trying to have
Moonburnt soul, you're not yet too far gone for love
Moonburnt soul, you're not yet too far gone to save
Your clothes stink of kerosene, please, let me put them away
It hurts me, to see you so broken and afraid
Let me kiss your lips and give you a reason to stay
Moonburnt soul, please, let me be of aid
I wail and sob though I'm not something you can see
Then my heart sears with the heat of your lighter's flashes
Fire envelops the soul I once loved with glee
My world is in flames and I'm grieving for ashes
Moonburnt soul, you've left me alone
I did not think you could be so brave
Moonburnt soul, you're too far gone
To love, to save, to help, to have
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moon drunk monster
beautiful and strange
howl your melancholy question
and tell me
which you dread more
the echo or the answer
— @shminsington, written as a fridge magnet poem (Twitter, 1 August, 2018)
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--prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial
Holy woman, where do you go?
Your mind doesn't stay in the sun,
but remains in the fog--obscured.
Write the works you've heard the goddess speak--
but where does ReletsiTe hide tonight?
She knows not that you hide a human heart,
nor that you bleed s so vigorously,
like a river during a thunderstorm.
By candlelight, you raise your hands,
stained with ink, and announce your intents
like a wailing widow shedding silver coins
to reveal a molten iron heart.
You take up the same form,
but you are not her.
Fire courses through your palm lines,
but it can only burn mortal flesh.
You're a cherry tree, but only,
only in the way you shed your pedals,
power is temporal in all the wrong places.
By the dawn of the new moon,
you'll only know cinders,
as your skin falls off your bone,
and your eyes gaze up at the crown--
the one you cannot obtain.
Holy woman, what do you seek out?
The truth within her prophecies,
or the strength to allow yourself
to reveal them?
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everything's giving away
I need something to believe in
somewhere safe I could escape
and fill the hole that looks more like a grave
every single day, I pray
for you to come save me, take me away
into your arms, my daydream from a younger age
I may be nothing but a void –
heavenly empty shape
but I got all these wines flowing in my veins
and you could get a taste
red on your dark blue cape
if you come save me, take me away
I wouldn't even mind being in a cage
as long as you promise your feelings will never change
build my faith
be my daydream from a younger age
- for carmilla
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Love not Lost
I’m holding you in a field of flowers
The crisp air blows through our hair
We look at each other and know in this moment
In this moment it is never gone
The love is never gone; the forever is never gone.
Our last goodbye is never a last goodbye.
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\nothing/
Nothing is a
Menacing idea
A frightening being
-
The void
The forgotten day
The primordial thing
-
You might think me a fool
A madman rambling away
A thinker after one too much pint
-
Perhaps my friends, perhaps
Perhaps that’s true
Perhaps
-
But lend an ear this advice at least
Not of sage, wiseman or scholar
But a man under the lamp
-
Do not think too long about absence
Don’t empty your mind of thought
Don’t ponder things unmade
-
For with no intention so or a curious mind
You will thread right into the empty
You stumble upon the Nothing
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Poetry Corner Department:
Or Medical Credentialing Department.
NORMAN THE PHLEBOTOMIST
© 2024 by Rick Hutchins
On those certain occasions
When a vein is hard to find
Norman the Phlebotomist
Is the man who comes to mind
Sometimes routine venipuncture
Isn’t so routine
And it’s a matter of life and death
To get a value for lipoprotein
And when all the lab technicians
Have failed and start to pout
It’s time to bite the bullet
And get an expert to bail them out
Norman of the Night Shift
Is the hero that you need
There is no vein so deeply buried
That he can’t make it bleed
It’s like he’s got some sixth sense
A hematologic radar beam
He always nails it on the first attempt
Easy as pie, so it would seem
His talents have become a legend
He is famous far and wide
This unassuming little man
Has become respected and admired
All the nurses on the campus
Worship him like a god
Though, truth be told, his neighbors
Think the guy is slightly odd
But there isn’t a female staffer
Not a veteran, nor a rookie
Who hasn’t slipped off to the call room
To give Norman a little nookie
But all the men that are on staff
Be they doctors or merely interns
Fail to appreciate his appeal
And they are becoming quite concerned
For each and every lady
In the aftermath of these quickies
Walks around in a mild daze
And sports a large, unsightly hickey
Why, these MDs ask themselves
Do the women seem anemic?
Attempts to question Norman fail
Because his eyes are so mesmeric
But, hey, he always saves the day
So there’s no harm in a little bite
For Norman the Phlebotomist:
A simple creature of the night
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Faegold
----
"Scatter!" she hisses; we do, like bugs.
The air - chill; clothes - threadbare, and she's knocking on another door, another, another, to find a place for Paul.
Glares at us, wordless, demanding: work.
A communal glare back. Her wings grow angry; the buzz begins.
There're no pockets to lift. Can't work miracles.
Door opens and we're out of her eye. Deflated; hateful yearning. A rambleamble - two feasts and an eyeblink, forever, too soon - and Paul is gone.
Mortal.
We can rest.
Forest, now - deepest heart, darkest tree, misted path.
Dream.
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Plea to time
Oh, thy mighty Lord
Sitting alone in your Iron Fort
Get down from your throne
Away from others of your own
There’s no reason for thy fright
So come down here and sit alongsides
So please take a seat and let us recite
The Tales of Arthur and his Knights
Let us take you back to days long gone
Enchant you till mighty Dawn
To the rhythm of jingly cowbell
And pain of splitted nutshell
All the way from the fortress
You can bring along your mistress
For here there’s no distress
So come, thy Lord and join the rest
For here you’re always welcome
Among those of our kind
So leave there thy mighty emblem
For we don’t care of race or bind
In the land of stories told
From the young to the old
Come here oh mighty Lord
But where, you have not been told
For everything you see is floored
By Swings of mighty swords
Underneath those of your kin
So please my Lord don’t nope
For there still lies hope
And though our bones haven’t survive
We are still alive
So we beg you, oh mighty Lord
With our Tales you’ve been delighted
And Even though we have been parted
With us you still bonded
So bow you ear to the ground
Listen to our sound
Cause beneath great swords and heart’s bleed
Lies our final pleed
So please, oh please our mighty Lord
Keep the fire within well lit
Carry it on, spread the myth
And listen carefully our beloved Lord
Whilst stuck in your Fort
For all your effort, his adevntures are still stored
Eternally in the songs of the bard’s chord
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" The Moon-Child "
- Fiona Macleod (poem) / Ida Rentoul Outhwaite (drawing)
Extract from; The little world of elves & fairies an anthology of verse.
This is a poem from a book I own that I quite enjoy, I will be blogging more extracts from this book as well as a cover show for anyone intreasted.
- Addler [he/they/xe]
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dark fabric draped in the sky
by a lonely, old goddess
the last of the first among sisters
and the only remaining
her dark blanket makes the night
but it is ancient as she
so holes pepper the dyed wool
cut by a gnawing infant
her light shines the infinite stars
and during the day
she comes from her hiding place
to search for siblings
and the sun blazes her worry
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