A Dark Night #noir #poetry #EdgarAllenPoe

Edgars desk

Gather my last notes

sleep never so desired

always more elusive

more muddied in the mire

against eyelash moth fluttered

taunting at my face

stopping for full moments

slumber could not erase

those errant memories

pass me, you and I

never have I slept

since the day you died

 fingers momentary

clasp about my throat

end this misery

 “goodbye” all you wrote

 my end you had predicted

 tables then were turned

shot in desperate dark

the killer in hell will burn

fresh white like a lily

purest scent I’d known

now a dusty red

stained the step toward home

your whisper doth entice

it draws me near the fire

wings might easily ignite

lay next to you my desire

work must yet be done

before I lay my head

I gather darkest dream

you villains breathe in dread

We celebrate your gift of using the pen to write Noir. Thank you Edgar for your inspiration to many writers

Happy Birthday

A Dream within a Dream #EdgarAllenPoe #haiku #photography

 

 

Edgars desk

 

A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM. ~Edgar Allen Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

 

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand—
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep—while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

********

Grasping at hope

sea pulls at all I hold dear

your kiss still warm

*

tears at great cost

dark dreams possess my heart

you are gone

photo of Edgar

The prompt  for Chevrefeuille’s Carpe Diem Ghost Writer: Dream within a Dream

Last Descent #poetry #photography #Halloween

stairs

Too soon,  I must

this shadowy trek

to earthen ground

in windy gust

so all alone

a vacant step

I make my last

my six foot home

you lay one rose

upon this patch

a bid “farewell”

descent’s atone

skull

I had a delightful visit to Edgar Allen Poe’s home. I was hoping some of my shots would be useful.

Today’s prompt for the DP Challenge at WordPress – Descent

Happy Halloween to my photographer friends!!!

 

Permanent Print #atozchallenge #poetry #streetkids

P

Winter snow melts

removing your print

can your memory

be vanquished from this world

Hands of time cycle forth

removing your mark

specter’s voices silenced

vanquished from this silent planet

no lilies grow on your grave

young dreams unrecorded

none recollects your smile

reverse this corrupt orbit

summer melts all hopes

abandoned child

you wear about your neck

spoils of a cruel world

Easter Lily

A lily for each of you…

In my travels oversees, I have been fortunate to work with the “Children of the World.” I was introduce to a tragic occurence among street children. Children are dumped on the street by parents, the children in turn are swept up by corrupt society for sale. The highest bidder gathers these children for prostitution and often organ donation to developed countries.  I hope this sickens you. I did as much as I could (at the time) ;I even sought a visa with the goal of establishing a small school and clinic.  I found corrupt societies don’t like competition for fresh meat.

 ********

“Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty with words”

~Edgar Allen Poe

“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”

~Edgar Allen Poe

 

My “P” stands for all POETRY. When you hear poetry what do you think? How does poetry differ from other things you read??

 

Shades of Edgar #NWCU #WWUC #poetry #music

Welcome to Wednesday Wake Up Call. I’m in the middle of writing a short story for Halloween so this ghostly “Poe like” prompt hit it for me.

Max Ablitzer  will be performing at the Bush theater in London on November 3. Poetry will be read by Tishani Doshi; it should be quite a night

the ravens

hated birds

dance over your grave

I am jealous

mauled by their “caws”

they get you each day and  through the night

i lost you every day and more so at night

you laugh

I know

I hear it at dusk

as you go…

***

there is nothing left

to pick apart

or the ravens

those black billed beasts

would pick at my heart

taunting

scolding

revealing

each

inner

most

feeling

as

F

o

L

L

Y

!!!!!

Please join us at New World Creative Union and share your creativity.