Black Velvet

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Black-Velvet-26508622

The hush of the empty house slams through me,

and in the hollow emptiness all I can hear

are voices that aren’t really there,

that descend upon me, irresistible and suffocating;

I welcome their numbing embrace.

For the silent black of smooth velvet,

that soothes every muscle, every thought, all awareness,

lets me escape into a night that lasts ‘til the next age,

where I can ease this longing I always feel,

and relieve this need that is always near,

and replenish the emptiness that’s captured my home.

The Night of the Witch

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Bewitched-14279638

The faintly illuminated night sky reflects a face devoid of all emotion,

unfocused eyes staring, transfixed to the ground,

while an ancient need, transmitted on a breeze, enters her subconscious.

Like shutters closing, the lights in her eyes die and turn dark

as the veil of obscurity blacks out any trace of who she is, only what she wants,

and she ventures out into the night.

It is you who crosses her path, a magnetic loneliness drawing you in,

inducing a need in you to offer yourself to her

while she stands tall before you, her stare accessing your mind.

She leans in, mischievous lips whispering into your ear that which you wish to hear,

her sweet breath luring you into a darkness that is mesmerising and entrancing,

and without resistance you become the object to the rituals of her pleasure and her pain,

giving up everything, a sacrifice, leaving you drained and bewildered,

as she takes from your mortal body the energy, and from your soul, your sanity,

in this spell of the night that belongs to the witch.

Pondering Amidst the Chaos

picture credit:http://www.deviantart.com/art/Pondering-257428358 

When you find yourself in the midst

of one of life’s freefalls

and every instinct demands

that you curl up in a ball,

...that! that is when you have to believe,

open up your arms, arch your back,

let your eyes see,

and when the carousel has stopped,

in the silence you align,

‘s the key for your just reprieve.

It's a Lonely Road to Absolution

 

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/It-s-a-lonely-road-to-absolution-348348151

  

In the cold light of a cloudy morning she was ripped upright in her bed,

blinked in confusion at the seeming calm of the muted silence outside.

She shivered as her shirt slipped past her shoulder down her arm

and the cold hard truth of an ancient reality slammed through her soul.

The shivers that wracked her body did not come from the chill that crept through the glass,

but from the bruised reflections that were still stamped on her body,

the shadows that threaded through her vulnerable mind

and exposed her conscious to the heedless self-destruction she so willingly succumbed to.

She draws up her knees, folds her arms around her legs,

drops her head into her arms and yields to these visions.

...lets them slash deep into her flesh, lets them tear apart her mind

and with closed eyes relive every dark and tarnished need to which she’s surrendered.

The tirade runs on and on, choking her, but she does not blink away a memory,

does not shy away from facing all that darkness throws her way.

‘til at last it started weakening, fading slowly into gray

before a grateful stillness settles upon the disorder.

The mirror cast her reflection, she is sitting proud and tall,

a veil of dark hair hanging down her back as are yesterdays bad dreams.

She is facing towards the east, towards a light that has broken through,

bathing her face with a gracious touch on this lonely road to absolution.

Punish me

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Surrender-84326430

Punish me. Punish me for my illicit desires

that drive me thoughtlessly

into the arms of temptation.

Punish me for selfishly chasing

my every need to intense fulfilment

without a thought of you.

I kneel before you, my head hanging down,

my naked body a sacrifice to surrender

my heedless and self-seeking ways to you.

The Whisper

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Devil-makes-three-252276998

Who do you think laughed, God or the Devil,

when they heard this urgent whisper:

“Please let me feel this, please let me do this,

I need to know what feelings it brings,

and though I know it’s wrong, I’ll repent the moment after,

but please let me feel this feeling again.”

The Final Church Bells

picture credit:http://www.deviantart.com/art/empty-streets-56257322
 

We walk this earth sightless down cracked empty streets

led by our thoughts conceived in darkness,

turning to dark needs when they’re born.

And that’s why I walk, my legs driving me forward

by a restlessness I cannot control

and a restraint that is threatening to break,

as the fork ahead draws nearer to the clock that tells no time,

I am damned no matter what; let the final church bells chime.

the Confines of Control

 

Picture credit: unknown

You’ve wrapped me up in perpetual anticipation,

you woke the sleeping dragon who’s restlessly testing the confines of his control.

Cold fingers run down the length of my spine and I shiver, I am awake,

and in dire expectation to feel the impact of your force,

when you break through the restrictions into my receptive flesh,

and undertake to drive it through until I reach the end.

Red is the Sky

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Red-Sky-with-Lightning-27210564

The wild black sky hosts a lightshow

that damns everyone who dares stare

as they throw their spears, red with the blood

of those waiting to be pierced.

Civil War

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Urban-Decay-13-146831019

Axel is shouting out ‘I don’t need no Civil War’

to drown out rushing cars with hollow shells in control,

the faces in my rearview mirror tempt an instant death

ere I should accidentally catch a glimpse of the life

that reflects in those dull eyes.

A homeless man slowly trundles across the empty vacant lot

where a billboard promises modern offices 2 years ago,

and at the sidewalk the hood of a car of dubious vintage is up

whilst dirty jeans and waving arms proclaim the woes of loss not wanted.

‘Green’ at last, I can leave this place, I can leave these images behind 290 horses,

then feel the wind lift up my hair while the sun throws shadow creatures

at my black sunglasses and the road behind me recedes

into a civil war that’s already begun.

Submit

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Submit-177516848

I ‘m being strangled by the hand around my throat,

my body crushed against the rough brick wall,

until motion is reduced to just the panic in my eyes

and my chest is nearly bursting, as the turning point arise.

Yet the hold does not let go, every muscle remains tense

‘til you see the panic turn to craving that which you dispense.

It’s a calculated choice I make to step into the whirl,

even knowing that it is the end, next stop – the underworld.

Dark Side Of The Moon

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Dark-Side-Of-The-Moon-193321626

To the dark side of the moon

is where she fled to find the silence,

to escape into the pulsing

of the rhythmic bass guitar,

it’s the space where light’s not wanted

where the darkness is a calming

shield to ward off all intrusions

and no map will lead you there.

Here she revels on the moonscape,

in the air with drifting tendrils

of soft mist that intertwines

with the tendrils of her hair,

whilst through closed eyes she can see

past and future merging in

a delighted dance of freedom

even gravity can’t hold.

tumbleweeds.....

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Tumbleweed-78268537

 

A tumbleweed rolling through the streets in June,

holding hands with the sand clouds and crisp, yellow leaves,

on a day like any other - school, work, shop, cook –

that she felt the slow-releasing of recognising and acknowledging

the tendril of a spirit, once embedded now is freed,

as the tumbleweed has grabbed it in its thorns and is releasing

a long-standing hold that is...... just............ old..................

Dreams

picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Transcendent-197599845

You’ve stolen my peace, my tranquility, my inner contentment,

leaving behind this hunger to push past the lucid dream

into a wonderland of hell where sane doesn’t live,

to feed off your flesh, feel your heat ‘til it burns

and these limbs pass to darkness once more.