evil – As it Comes

The Raven

Raven, black, atop a tree

Screamed religion spuriously

Bleak-black probed me; evil glee

Before I shot it dead

Raven crowned so hideously

In a dream he came to me

Pitch black, vacant eyes I see

Before he swooped on dread

Raven claws insidiously

Gouge my own indemnity

Black robe swoops to smother me

Before tearing flesh, he said

Raven, black, atop the tree

Why do you seek to crucify me?

I only ask as courtesy

Before I shoot you dead

Thoughts for Ukraine

pinning a note on the wall –
artillery takes my
loved one away again

Quote of the day.

“All in all, Russia has shot itself in both feet, the balls, and finally in the head.”

And something to remember:

“When I despair, I remember that all through history
the ways of truth and love have always won.
There have been tyrants, and murderers,
and for a time they can seem invincible,
but in the end they always fall.
Think of it–always.”

~ Mahatma Gandhi

Charlie’s Black Christmas

Enough of snow foxes and cute birds… and after a rich thick slice of a Christmas cake disaster, it’s time for a rich thick slice from the other side with this old chestnut. A very happy holiday celebration/Merry Christmas to all of you lovely, WordPress people and readers everywhere.

gruesome santa

Charlie touched his brown-rimmed glasses knowingly, and his freckles crinkled as he marched down to the garden’s borders. He loved how delicate and austere it all looked at this time of year but remembered from school how birds and other small creatures found it difficult to find food – he contemplated eking out worms and other treasures just for them. His smiling eyes were soon agape when he reached the hole in the deep, green hedge his father took pride in. Charlie decided to follow a walk of unusual footprints leading off to the street, which was paved with gold – Christmas gold.

The huge, blacklead, street lamp shined golden yellow onto a neighbour’s decorative efforts. They had gone to town with sled, reindeer, Santas and lots of glittering sights and sounds. His mind was still on the tracks though and the puzzle they presented. Charlie’s jaw dropped at the magnificence of next door’s sled where he noticed similar sized prints and more right beside their giant Santa with a glowing red and white smile, and which had a pneumatic wave for everyone.

Charlie knelt down and checked under the sled and then inside of it whilst holding onto his specs, moving them up and down in inspection mode, whilst murmuring the occasional ‘aha’, but he could see noting really. He scratched his head with stiff cold fingers and rubbed his cold red nose, wiping the drips on his new scarf, saying an apology to Aunt Mildred for the mess. He clapped his padded hands together before they clasped behind his back and a shudder took him into high-speed detective work.

He decided to sit on its large leather seat to shelter from the snow falling once again. The sled began to move slightly, making Charlie feel a bit uneasy, but that soon went as he soon became enamoured of the blue-black sky and the twinkling stars above the white dotted sky. The gentle snowdrops became a whirr. From out of nowhere, a booming laugh and bells shrilly rang out behind him before sounding all around. Charlie’s short-lived, nervous excitement was tinged with longings of the warmth of home, his mum, the Christmas tree and just about any familiar things. But, on the other hand, maybe that was Santa. Was it Santa?

Charlie’s eyes were drawn to the sled floor and the tiny prints, which had reappeared. He pushed his glasses onto his nose, pulling back fast when he noticed a small creature on the seat beside him. Charlie smiled at its furry paws though they were dirty and wet with very ragged nails – he was anything but cute. Charlie’s smile was met with a scraggy, dark face and crooked, menacing teeth that dripped saliva, and which had turned the sled floor, a greenish yellow. Charlie’s heart sank, together with thoughts that his companion might be a Christmas elf, and so he held onto his red scarf from aunt Mildred and smelled his mum’s mince pies on his glove, which also bore some squished crumbs.

He was pulled out of regret, near tears, with the roar of ‘Santa’s’ instructions to the hideous 6 beasts pulling the sled. It jolted him. The horrible goblin like creature that now terrified Charlie, turned to ‘Santa’, and with a hyena’s laugh, and to Charlie’s disbelief, it shrieked the words, ‘One more, and we will be done for this evening!’

Charlie, the grotesque elf and ‘Santa’ were carried into the freezing night’s blizzard – bells ringing, gruesome laughter abound. And Charlie, at least, was never seen again.

So, be good! Lol.

Apocalypse: the unanswered question (not)

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apocalypse-desert-wreck-car-writitingasitcomes

On this touchstone, torch lit night,
vast painted echoes, blue and bright,
are released in the Sun’s explosion of mistrust –

long apt to ignite… sending us back to dust…

There is silence from the suffers of old,
who now come in from the dextrous cold,
forming porous, multiple, textured lines,
in hues of subtle forms and lies,

inside grand, coarse grained schist
that keeps us from burning warmth and myths,
and who hold this evil darkness over us –
ever at our resting souls.

Should we be so bold?
What does this all mean,
‘never to be cold?’
But, fiercely, we are armed still,
but, sadly, tis only with misery.

I must not wonder –
as I wonder most of all –
what the future,
and destiny
has in store for us all.

And I must not venture,
as I must not stray and fall.
Is this really
Heaven?
Has any of it been real at all?

Erosion

mamu “Scientists estimate that 150-200 species of plant, insect, bird and mammal become extinct every 24 hours. This is nearly 1,000 times the “natural” or “background” rate and, say many biologists, is greater than anything the world has experienced since the vanishing of the dinosaurs nearly 65m years ago.”

Is our sole purpose
to contribute
to the epic verse
of the universe?
Or to document
in written, raw emotion
like stepping on
emeralds in the sand?
My dreams harden,
and sparkle
inside of geodes’ imaginations.
With the right mix of erosion and stress
earth’s natural sandstone
of arches and columns,
come into their own,

also eroded by tears
and mammoth tusks and hard shoulders;
rocks rubbed to a fine polish
stand mile high,
and
of long ago,
A time unknown
to our bare feet, till
we, the intruders,
came and made them
lost.
History will repeat
itself –
and extinction’s epitaphs
will be made.
But slow the pace of this
manic and unnecessary, beating drum.
Survival and intellect,
tribes and competition,
greed and capitalism,
humanity’s neo morals.
We are all a part,
we are the rhythm,
But without a heart
(Ecosystem)
We are nothing.