Author: smithaw50

I live in NJ. Concentrating now on a getting a full time writing career started. Glad you could be with me on the journey. Ready? Here we go...

Shadow Priestess

Come you from the shadows, priestess?

Do you now take my confession that

thoughts of you

make me restless?

 

 

Come you in the starlight, priestess?

Are you corporeal, that I might

hold you and fulfill

my longing?

Or ethereal, that I might

dream forever

in vain?

 

Come you now at eventide, priestess?

Do you now reveal your true form

to the unworthy wretch

who worships you alone

in the empty temple

at night?

 

Come you now at midnight, priestess?

Will you mock and laugh

and point in scathing

amusement

at the burden of love

I bear you?

 

Come you now to dance, priestess?

Doffing dark robes,

pretending you’re alone

while dancing

to the rhythm

of my heart?

 

Come you now to sacrifice, priestess?

Lighting tallow candles,

singing eldritch songs,

your slender, sacred fingers

on slender, profane knives

to split me, and read your future?

 

Or come you now as bride, priestess?

To honor me with your

presence in my life,

binding us together

forever in

shadows?

What a waist…

I wanted a Coke, but all I got was Ginger…

No, My Love

No, my love

you will

not

speak of things

done in darkness,

of

things that strip you

of your clothing,

then your innocence,

and maybe,

if you’re really, really good…

 

your life

 

No, my love

you will

not

speak of the pain

in your heart

and long showers that

never

purify

your tainted soul

 

 

No, my love

you will

not

speak of my cruelty,

my cursing,

my fists,

my feet.

 

No, my love

you will

smile,

and the mask of

our dead love

will harden

like a cocoon.

 

And then,

 

let only

fantasy butterflies

alight from your tongue.

 

She Battles Him

She battles him

when war is done,

and whether win or lose,

when her blood is high and hot,

she climbs

the mountains of his thighs,

heedless of wounds,

heedless of weapons,

And pulls him to

new heights of

painful ecstasy.

Lustful as any warrior

he’s ever faced,

and more deadly

for the love she bears,

his flesh is claimed

as a  trophy of

love’s war,

empty of seed,

but not of life.

 

Where Prayers Go to Die

Unheard, or unanswered?

Does it matter now?

Their prayers lifted high in tender faith,

were shattered by the godfist in derisive mockery.

 

The eyes close,

the grip weakens,

the sight fades,

and the breath grows shallow,

 

and they are free.

 

But the gods are not where they’re going

And the river is black and cold

 

They can have no vessel of silver

They’ll receive no provision of gold

 

And stone by stone,

the ghosts tear the walls

apart,

For they are a part

of nothing,

having become

everything.

 

Standing among the ruins,

 

they mourn their dreams,

and in the gathering light of dawn,

they dissipate once more

 

And the whispered susurration

of fervid entreaty once more

forms the misty morning veil

around the broken walls

where prayers go to

die.

 

I Wanted to Surprise You

I wanted to surprise you

I’m hoping that I did

I had to steal these flowers

because I’m just a kid

 

You see I had no money

to buy them on my own

because it seems you only

earn money when you’re grown

 

But still I hope you like them

although I couldn’t pay,

because they mean I like you

and that I’m going away

 

I wanted to surprise you,

I’m hoping that I did.

I’ll be in jail an hour;

I have to do my bid

 

 

You see, the cops are coming

to put me in the jail,

but I’m returning for you,

so be here without fail.

 

They’re only gonna keep me,

and call my mom and dad.

I hope you like me too though,

‘cuz I’m not really bad.

 

I wanted to surprise you…

 

There Are No Monsters Here

Knock-knock

within your closet

child

There are no monsters here

 

Knock-knock

beneath your bed

my child

There are no monsters here

 

Knock-knock

upon your dreams

dear child

There are no monsters here

 

They’re all inside your head

my child

That’s where the monsters dwell

 

I promise in the morning

child

you’ll find them in the well,

 

For there they find

the entryway back into

childhood’s hell.

The Ice-Blue King

I see him on the throne

in this cavernous hall,

alone, utterly alone,

as all around him slowly chips away,

and crumbles,

and dies.

 

He waits, but not for me.

A longing puts an aura round him

and fills the hollow alcove

with a shimmering

sky-blue burst.

 

Breath becomes ice crystals,

and flesh becomes blue,

but he is waiting

for something, or someone,

somehow still living

in the crippling, crumbling

cold now draped about him

like a royal robe

 

There will be no spring thaw

of his ice blue gaze,

no warming of his iron blue heart,

no budding blossom of love.

 

His wrath will fall,

hard and cold

as his kingdom,

when his people return…

 

if  they return…

 

if they ever  return…

 

before the castle

crumbles, and collapses

on the crown of

the ice-blue king.

Melchora’s Spells

Melchora’s spells

enrapture me

capture me

sap me of strength

and will

to defy the

tidal pull

of her lunar love

 

Melchora’s spells

bind me

blind me

and find me helpless

at the base of her heart

 

Melchora’s spells

lift me

gift me

and seal the rift

between my need

and her mind

 

Melchora’s spells

smell of lilac and lavender

and honey and ginger

as I breathe deeply and

my soul turns

to ashes and smoke

 

Melchora’s spells

are vital

and gentle

and my reason’s reality

is contained between her hands

 

And I want to look away,

And I want to walk away,

And I want to be away

from her,

But that too, is part of

Melchora’s spells….

 

 

 

Anchors Away

See the sun set on our longing

to invade a distant shore.

See the dimming of desire

to go sailing off to war.

 

Harbored safely and securely,

anchors lowered close to town,

we will speak no more of killing,

and with families settle down.

 

Though the noble masts jut proudly

in the darkened twilight sky,

Hear the cannon’s silence softly

Sing a sailor’s lullaby

 

See the sails tied to the rigging?

They’ll no longer catch the breeze.

And there’s no more pipe and jigging

On the rolling, dancing seas

 

And the whales will give birth again

to calves beneath the moon,

fearing nothing from the surface

be it net or sharp harpoon.

 

And the lighthouse keepers

get to leave their cold and noisy

towers,

for there’ll be no more ships coming

in the darkest morning hours.

 

And violent storms that claimed

the lives of those who’ve gone before

will have no plunder for their crimes

that leave this happy shore.

 

So weep no more, my lovely bride

The tide is standing still.

And I’ll face the sunset with you

Til it sinks beneath the hill.