Gregory R Barden

SHINE ( sonnet )

late on the night preceding Christmas Day
I glimpsed a ghostly shimmer on the snow
and though the moon was shining in its way
'twas something more compelling in this glow

deep in it, I could see the course of years
the strains and pains of humankind thereof
to search the dearer christening of tears
and change the flow of time to render love

my eyes were sore afraid at such a sight
and so too in my heart there grew a doubt
and yet, the beautied power of such light
had placed its peace within me and without

for there, above - redemption from afar -
the grace of heaven, shining … from a star.

Copyright © 2022 Gregory Richard Barden

( photographic art taken from public domain files at FreePik / Flickr )

* one last dark piece for Halloween … I so enjoy this genre! *

~

SOUCOUYANT

you …

found your way in -
a keyhole that I had left unguarded
squeezing through
with fiery wings folded like leaves
I should’ve seen it coming
but your “goodbye” had been such
a jagged edge
and seemed so … determinate
I knew what you were
you never feigned another identity
and that’s why I was so attracted …
so compelled
your honesty was like a potion
and I drank it willingly
but I was never your aliment
you fed … elsewhere …
I didn’t question your nighttime disappearances -
I understood your needs
and I never tried to control you
there was no judgement
no accusations or condemnation
I accepted it utterly
and my reward was your passion -
a physical and emotional eros
beyond the human norm
and an addiction that exceeded any chemical hook …
but, when you knew you had me,
it all changed …
your efforts to please turned to impatience
for your pleasure was in the hunt alone -
once captured, prey became debris
and when you spurned me I craved
you all the more
as you knew I would …
but you never counted on my pride
as ingrained as veins in marble
genetic and lasting
and tho beyond your comprehension
I let you go
oh, it was torturous, indeed
but I never let on -
(and probably sealed my fate)
I dusted off my slats and walked
and I swear, by moonlite,
there was a tear that dripped from
those brutal absinthe peepers …
oh …
that was all so long ago
and despite the countless reminders that
I’d learned to leave myself -
despite the motivation created by
the knowledge of your iniquity,
(and your battered ego)
I let down my guard -
I grew careless
and left a hole in my defenses
thus you crept thru my keyhole like
an evil sprite
with nothing but retribution in
your selfish designs -
Bazil waiting patiently just outside
for my red, runny ruin …

I never felt your toothy touch
I slept that night as deeply as I ever had
(perhaps that was your sorcery)
and awoke to a brilliant day
but as soon as I moved I felt the bruises …
and in the mirror I found your calling card
black and blue and shaped delicately on
my nape, as if you’d painted it -
the form of a crescent moon
and a message, explicit
that no matter what I now did -
no matter what measures I took in the
future to hide from you,
I was forever yours
I was another of your sad, sorry horde
and the one thing that you knew I detested
more than any other …
I was, from then until my last breath …

your food.

Copyright © 2024 Gregory Richard Barden

( photographic art taken from public domain files at FreePik / Picasa )

* More spooky Halloween fun - enjoy! *

~

BLOOD MOON

Luna ...

peeked over
the reach ... rouge-red but
shedding blush the
higher she crept up the starry vault ...
I mused at the irony -
blood leaving her ancient cheeks,
dripping the fiery curse into me,
my veins boiling all the
more with each bit of her
face exposed ...

go ahead, ol' girl,
we've spun this dance before,
you and I - I know the
steps well, and they always end
the same - with your visage as
pale as a porcelain doll's,
and my madness
coursing white-hot,
the visceral chaos pulling me
down into a simmering
blackness, where the
animal is ALL, and the man is
unholy conflagration...

as the lower hem
of her crimson countenance finally
pinched free of the horizon,
the last measure of
sanity left me, and as countless
times before - eons upon eons of this
'malediction of the damned' -
my thoughts tumbled into
an inky delirium of
fever ...

my horrid transmutation
finally complete, she continued
her lazy, enigmatic ascent
of the heavens,
and my monthly quest for
blood and flesh ...

began.

From ‘Melancholy Moon’ Copyright © 2024 Wheelsong Books UK

( photographic art taken from public domain files at Pixabay / Flickr )