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Song of Sacrifice 2

You hold the knife

as one holds

a fallen fledgling,

Your eyes command my approach,

and as I shuffle,

the shackles sing a

discordant, jangling dirge

 

I weep,

but whether for my soul

or for your cruelty,

I cannot say.

 

I held you.

Kissed you.

Loved you.

Sang you to sleep in my arms.

 

Your smile transfixed me,

and the hidden coils of your flesh

felt warm in my hands.

 

Your lying mouth

wrought cries from the core of me.

And like fresh clay

you molded me into a sacrifice,

 

Sharpened your knife

on your heart of stone.

 

Pray make it quick, love.

I will wait for you

in the

frozen abyss…

Poet of Light

The beacon skims

the waves

but no ships sail

this hour of night

 

A false dawn lights

the horizon, and

obsidian skies blush pale

as the stars shine

their last

 

My small lantern

battles

what shadows it can tame.

The rest wait their turn

 

The mulled wine

warms the bones

and softens the edges

of harsh memories

 

My breathing,

the scratch of the pen,

the sizzling pop of an oil bubble

sound all the louder

at this hour

 

Far below,

waves whisper

susurrations

of sighs

 

The keepers of

the past

watch from

realms unseen,

but whether in

approval or censure,

I can’t tell.

 

Either way,

I’m undone.

 

A red gold band

of light

sears the seam of

the horizon

 

I finish the wine.

I finish the page,

and close my eyes

to the sweet brightness

 

And once more

the walls crumble

to ruin,

the light

dies,

and I fade

like the names

of lovers

drawn in the sand

before high tide.

 

 

 

Poet of Shadow

I write

in the

shadowed places

 

cold, bleak

and dark

 

Stepping on cracks in the sidewalk

full of cigarette butts,

phlegmatic spit

and on occasion,

blood

 

There are crevices

in the fences too,

where the wind whistles

off key,

enticing me

to emerge

and share.

 

And I want to,

I so very want to,

and know that I

so very

never will

 

The silent shadows

comfort me,

drape their darkness

across my shoulders

like the powerful arm

of a strong friend

 

I shift and settle,

a  bag of  garbage

kicked in the corner,

under a wedge of dim, flickering light

from a faulty streetlamp,

the wires humming in

off key harmony

with the whistling wind

 

Come out to play, poet…

 

‘No,’ I reply to the invitation,

now no longer content to be in

the shadows.

I melt into them.

 

My words spin

out and away,

beyond my control,

into the vast, black

void of heaven.

 

And I write

in the

shadowed places

 

A Changing Season Marking Time

A changing season

marking time,

Another silly ‘season’-rhyme,

Another sun-splashed

Autumn day,

A leaf-strewn path

to run and play,

Another golden light

to see

Another day

with you and me.

 

I love to spend

the seasons here

though slowly

they leak life and youth,

But you are constant

as the seasons

and I hold to it as truth:

That will never change.

 

 

 

All My Everything

There’s reason to go on, they say.

Just take it slow and day by day.

But see, I know I’ve lost my way.

And no, my friend, it’s not okay.

Good intentions, noble hearts.

No avail, my life’s in parts.

Some are missing, some are old.

Tarnished is the burnished gold.

With a rueful smile I see

There’s no getting back to me.

So with what remains, I’ll go,

Hat in hand, a so-and-so.

What’s that, friend?

You’ll say a prayer?

Does my heart good

that you care.

Thank you for that.

Leaving now.

God don’t answer

why or how.

Still, I won’t say no.

You pray.

Say it as I

walk away.

Love you too friend,

don’t you cry.

Don’t think I’ll be back

to try

starting over,

learning new.

Time is short,

and days are few.

Gonna watch the sun go set.

Come with me, and pray, and let us

share that moment,

knowing why .

And when the sun sets.

So will I.

 

Night Roads (Chapter 22 )

New Chapter of Night Roads added today!

http://channillo.com/series/night-roads/545-12941/

Night Trade (A Liar Fire Story)

Recommended reading on WriteHere: Night Trade (A Liar Fire Story) – http://wh.tl/160508-1

Source: Night Trade (A Liar Fire Story)

Fair Trial (A Liar Fire Story)

Recommended reading on WriteHere: Fair Trial (A Liar Fire Story) – http://wh.tl/160507-7

Source: Fair Trial (A Liar Fire Story)

Sailing Home

This story was a finalist choice in the Neoverse Writing Competition. My first time entering one.

smithaw50's avatarBeyond Panic

Author’s Note: A small boy is fishing with his grandfather; as they talk about life, thoughts and feelings emerge that make a lasting impact on the both. The story is told from the point of view of the young boy’s memory now as a grown man.

I was sitting with Grandpa as he cleaned his catch with a knife that he always had, seemingly forever.

The skritch it made against the scales as he worked it with expert hands was like the rhythmic slap of waves on the shore.

His deft fingers never seemed to get caught on the hooks, though he showed me where they had, when he was first learning. Callouses covered the tender skin there, but never covered over the lessons.

I watched the shallow water eddy about my ankles as I sat on the boat’s edge, watching the wheeling gulls hoping to steal a fish or two, though grandpa always…

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A Candle for Jyan (A Liar Fire Story)

Recommended reading on WriteHere: A Candle for Jyan (A Liar Fire Story) – http://wh.tl/160313-5

Source: A Candle for Jyan (A Liar Fire Story)