Best Unhallowed Poems
Part 3: AT HEAVEN’S GATES
To set Her free from destiny was far from my design,
but, though unplanned, I touched Her hand to give Her peace of mind.
She told me then, and then again, that providence Divine
had cast a curse, and even worse: despised by all mankind,
She walked alone, unseen, unknown, Her soul incarnadine.
To break this spell of living hell, of loneliness enshrined,
and end Her days within the haze, a sole redeeming deed
would give reprieve and maybe leave our destinies entwined -
Her final quest be put to rest if only I agreed,
but no surcease nor perfect peace nor hope if I declined.
The shadows, shawled in silence, crawled, the night Her fate was sealed
as vespers tolled across the wold beneath the muted fog.
The heavens cracked and sorrow slacked as chimes of children pealed
while in the hills (where midnight chills) there wailed a daemon dog -
with no delay I lead the way, the path to Potter’s Field.
Her weathered face was lined with Grace, Her eyes shone emerald green.
With me as guide She stepped inside to grieve and mourn Her loss,
and thereupon, though pale and wan, the night took on a sheen.
With weary eyes as Her disguise, She placed a wooden cross
upon a mound (unhallowed ground) and whispered ‘Sibylline...’.
A falling star flared in the far and burst, a bolide flame -
beneath the light, the Final Rite no longer hid undone.
And kneeling there in silent prayer, we seemed to share the shame
but could atone if left alone, forevermore as one.
Before we both could breathe an oath, I asked Her once Her name.
Through lips, pale red, She simply said ‘Some called me Abigail’,
and neath a birch where white doves perch, I took Her for my bride,
beheld Her smile a little while, but all to no avail...
Her cloak and cape, and shrivelled shape lie empty at my side...
for now She waits at Heaven’s Gates, not far beyond the Pale.
Categories:
unhallowed, fantasy,
Form:
Ballad
*****Anyone who knows my poetry knows how I often use Greek mythology in my works. This poem revolves around the idea of the moon longing to become 'into being' so as to be with Venus, whom is represented in Greek mythology as beauty itself. I found the whole idea appealing and very fitting to romance******
In her sweet palace Venus dreamed a million loves....
....and blew many a kiss from rainbow terraces above,
oft in the jealous gaze of Silver Joy, the 'Elven Moon'
that shines for her employ, and fantasize he ----
How moonlit his face was upon her wanton court;
if only his beams could become as flesh
and feel her love in the high places of the world.....
Thus he would erect her likeness in earth's every corner,
where the roses must grow 'neath her lovely,
and what blooms would bless!
and smite all things unhallowed;
She gazed upon him most fondly in his fullness,
and felt his night-kiss on her lips,
in the soft of summer.....
gentle o'er the mountains,
his lunar eye did confess, a midnight matrimony;
..... the mid-month, as much man as moon
and could but touch her in his witching-hour power;
Through her silken curtains as a moonbeam god,
the gaze of a thousand Lords.....
when Venus strolled her many walks
aerie-dressed in her balmy breezed gowns,
naked with stardust wine;
When none would love her,
not even Aries! ----
but the moonlit night....
his breath upon her brow, (and her feminine lush)
And danced she her little waltz with him
(fair maiden of the moon)
Categories:
unhallowed, moon, mythology, romance,
Form:
Romanticism
Auld Clootie of corruption fame,
how smooth your fork-ed hiss,
deceiving hearts and tickling ears
with your sweet, seductive kiss.
Oh, master of enticement
how fragrant is your breath,
while whispering temptation,
condemning souls to death.
And in this wicked world we're
bound by your irreverent reign
'til heaven strikes a fatal blow
to your unhallowed name.
Categories:
unhallowed, faith,
Form:
Quatrain
A Sonnet To Growing Older
My heart now speaks to me of ageless things
Of solitary walks down country lanes
Of quilted calico with simpler schemes
Unhurried times, a pause, as quiet rain
In memory drenched, the budding heart reviews
Her nightly liaisons in twilight realms
Illusive childlike carousel renews
Majestic pensive thoughts and hopeful hymns;
With joy rekindles ! Magic carousel
It moves round and round in measured beat
Bewitching power of music sounds compel
The ageless ones to rambunctious retreat !
Unhallowed fruit of age-
My heart can sing !
Redeeming time to catch the brass-bound ring
Categories:
unhallowed, absence, america, animal, anxiety,
Form:
Free verse
my angel, fallen ...
gossamer linen, violet lace
window-dressing body, pressing
goddess of unblemished grace
beckoning - urge reckoning
clasp me, push me ... down with you.
close, to see my eyes in yours
heart of darkness, warm and artless
measured with our carnal cores
fallowed - soon, unhallowed
pull me, draw me ... down with you.
savor sweet, your taste is mine
greedy swallows fill my hollows
faultless form, engorged supine
whetted - blade unfettered
cut me, rend me ... down with you.
pity, fawn to take me in
I, the frozen quarry, chosen
bartered virtue, ceded sin
merging - madness surging
gather me, wrench me ... down with you.
each dynamic sates a thirst
a darkened oath devours both
raptured sighs so unrehearsed
spasm - plunging chasm
drench me, drown me ... down with you.
painted nails to flay my frame
stripes of lust, a jealous trust
lesions roused for fervor's flame
unversed - do your worst
stain me, rake me ... down with you.
feral places, once denied
cognate parts to blackened hearts
souls and selves we can't divide
twisted - double-fisted
grind me, burn me ... down with you.
sing to me a siren's wail
rip the rhyme from all sublime
watch the frenzied portions flail
disguised - hell, improvised
smite me, drag me ... down with you.
all in, my angel ... fallen
so sweetly, and
so deeply
down.
with.
you.
** This is a poetic form I created called “Torridelle”, (not the actual shape, but the rhyme scheme, phrasing and metre). **
~
~ 2nd Place ~ in the Poetry Soup "Wow Me" Poetry Contest, Nina Parmenter, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
unhallowed, imagery, metaphor, muse, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
* This is a rather intricate form I created called a “Torridelle” - I hope you enjoy it! *
~
my Angel, fallen ...
gossamer linen, violet lace
window-dressing body, pressing
goddess of unblemished grace
beckoning - urge reckoning
clasp me, push me ... down with you.
close, to see my eyes in yours
heart of darkness, warm and artless
measured with our carnal cores
fallowed - soon, unhallowed
pull me, draw me ... down with you.
savor sweet, your taste is mine
greedy swallows, fill my hollows
faultless form, engorged supine
whetted - blade unfettered
cut me, rend me ... down with you.
pity, fawn to take me in
I, the frozen quarry chosen
bartered virtue, ceded sin
merging - madness surging
gather me, wrench me ... down with you.
each dynamic sates a thirst
a darkened oath devours both
raptured screams yet unrehearsed
spasm - plunging chasm
drench me, drown me ... down with you.
painted nails to flay my frame
stripes of lust, a jealous trust
lesions roused for fervor's flame
unversed - do your worst
stain me, rake me ... down with you.
feral places, once denied
cognate parts to blackened hearts
souls and selves we can't divide
twisted - double-fisted
grind me, burn me ... down with you.
sing to me a siren's wail
rip the rhyme from all sublime
watch the frenzied portions flail
disguised - hell, improvised
smite me, drag me ... down with you.
all in, My Angel ... fallen
so sweetly, and
so deeply
down.
with.
you.
Categories:
unhallowed, analogy, body, love, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
Wicked winds and wandering mists,
Moonlit hours and secret trysts,
Spells and charms; unhallowed loam,
Stealthy do the witches roam.
Boiling cauldrons, smoke and fire,
Fallowed fields, dearth and dire,
Ungodly grants that demons give—
O’ thou must suffer not a witch to live.
Categories:
unhallowed, gothic, halloween, mythology, october,
Form:
Rhyme
A well of crystal clear water, untainted potentiality
Dug deep in the ground by a house of motionless morality
Refined, dainty dwellers of the house were abounding
But howling winds of doubt on the door came a pounding
The winds brought dark clouds of fear and foreboding
Faith, hope, truthfulness and fidelity have begun eroding
Whence the warlike, wailing winds came there is no telling
But once the whispers began, of them there was no quelling
The master of the house was enticed and by fear persuaded
His judgment faded and the cosmic for the telluric he traded
Promised he was nothing, perhaps mere elemental existence
But with blind persistence he thirsted for his own subsistence
“Drown your past, smother your pride, and stifle your dignity,
The price for your precious prize will be a mark of infamy”
One by one the master sacrificed and slaughtered his brood
Lifeless, they were all thrown in the well after being subdued
The water once crystal clear turned murky, opaque and dim
Existence to the master was granted, but life became grim
He stands by the well, peering into the bottomless, abysmal pit
Forever thinking to undo this unhallowed story he`d writ
Categories:
unhallowed, grief, spiritual, house, fear,
Form:
Narrative
‘ Monsters, Among Us … ’
Scatter The Creeping Vapor-Stench, Away
Expose The Wake of Eerie, Fog and Shadows
And Nightshade and Fiends, and Vile-Beasts That Bay
Begone, to Taboo, Grounds, Unhallowed …
… for there Are Monsters, Among Us …
Yea, Also An Ancient Curse
We Don’t have To Make This Up …
… to Make It Any Worse …
Yea, There Are Blood Suckers, Self-Styled, Vampires ( Vlad, The Impaler )
Who’ll Drink Your Blood by Starless, Night
Creatures, Who’ll Make You Suffer Their Desires
and Ghouls, Who’ll Dine On Your Flesh, in Daylight ( Jeffrey Dahmer )
Yea, There Are Creatures of The Dark
Who’ll Catch You, If You Do Not Know … ( Rapists )
They Want To Get Inside Of Your Heart
And Make You Do Acts, Foul, Fraught with Woes
Yea, There Are Monsters, Among Us …
Merciless, Malevolent, Maniacal Monstrosities … ( Hitler )
They Do, Indeed, Want To Own Your Soul, Because ( Jim Jones )
They Want To Make You Commit, Their Atrocities ! … ( Charles Manson )
And If You Walk Around Unwary
Doesn’t Matter, If Its Not, Stroke Of Midnight
… Anytime, Is Their Time, To Do Scary
Spine-Chilling Screams of Your Unending, Pitch-Black Fright …
Rituals To Silver and Golden Idols ( Slaving For Riches)
Making A Virgin Sacrifice - ( Child Molestation )
Hexes and Voodoo Dolls
and All Such Abominations To The Christ …
… Now, by a Long Shot, I’m Not Pious
(‘Cause I Too, Like A Good Thrill !)
Just, Don’t Make The Mistake-Serious
By Thinking Wickedness, Isn’t Real !
And Humans, Please Be Aware
Evil Incarnate, Isn’t Just A Movie Theme …
It’s More Than Just A Joking Scare
… There ‘ Is’ A Wicked Scheme
(and there ‘Is’ A Wicked Being)
So, If You Find, You’re Chased or Caught
By Some Monster In A Living-Nightmare
Remember, No Potion, Amulet, Nor Incantation Taught
Brings Almighty Help, Better Than Holy Prayer
Yea, There Are Monsters, Among Us …
Yea … Also, An Ancient Curse
(and We Couldn’t Even Invent The Stuff
to Make It Any Worse ! ) …
Categories:
unhallowed, allegory, faith, history, inspirational,
Form:
Narrative
Pious passion with pearl like luster
Panoply paint in deviant cluster
Projecting devout sacred morals
Wearing crowns of thorny laurels
Preaching forth with self righteous scorn
Scrawled on parchment fully worn
Those pagan heathens they perceive
Who don’t condone what they believe
Perplexed by such pathetic woes
Least the truth be so exposed
A patchwork of divine confusion
Unfounded values in perfusion
Peripheral motives, hidden lies
Unhallowed spirits in holy guise
Hypocrites with tarnished goals
Believing they’re the chosen souls
Categories:
unhallowed, confusion, faith, philosophy, religion
Form:
Rhyme
I wonder if god called upon you
and said take my hand
I gift unto you my promise land
would you give your life and soul
as Jesus once told his disciples
I wonder if we all repented today
Would a million lives be saved tomorrow
would we be free of pain and selfish gain
Or would the world be the same
I wonder if the trees had eyes
would they cry a thousand tears
would they cry for you and I
I wonder if we saw God tomorrow
would there be no hate
no greed, no sorrow
or would we die,
on unhallowed ground
I wonder if Adam and Eve had not sinned,
and Jesus Christ not sacrificed
would we all be now, in paradise?
Categories:
unhallowed, allusion, bible, emotions, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
In her sweet palace Venus dreamed a million loves....
....and blew many a kiss from rainbow terraces above,
oft in the jealous gaze of Silver Joy, the 'Elven Moon'
that shines for her employ, and fantasize he ----
How moonlit his face was upon her wanton court;
if only his beams could become as flesh
and feel her love in the high places of the world.....
Thus he would erect her likeness in earth's every corner,
where the roses must grow 'neath her lovely,
and what blooms would bless!
and smite all things unhallowed;
She gazed upon him most fondly in his fullness,
and felt his night-kiss on her lips,
in the soft of summer.....
gentle o'er the mountains,
his lunar eye did confess, a midnight matrimony;
..... the mid-month, as much man as moon
and could but touch her in his witching-hour power;
Through her silken curtains as a moonbeam god,
the gaze of a thousand Lords.....
when Venus strolled her many walks
aerie-dressed in her balmy breezed gowns,
naked with stardust wine;
When none would love her,
not even Aries! ----
but the moonlit night....
his breath upon her brow, (and her feminine lush)
And danced she her little waltz with him
(fair maiden of the moon)
Categories:
unhallowed, fantasy, longing, moon, romance,
Form:
Rhyme
A Cold Dark Yellow Unhallowed Moon
A cold dark yellow unhallowed moon smiles beguilingly
In the pitch black starless and cold empty night sky
Suckling upon the blood and the very life force of
Pure innocence, light, and goodness . . . .
Fear stirs eerily in the forlorn sound of a fog horn that’s
Blowing and crying a sad echo haunting far in the distance
It warns of the imminent arrival of a malevolent Hellspawn
Force of absolute unmitigated evil . . . The Phantom Vampire.
As the Phantom Vampire materializes from nowhere in the
Darkest shade of night blanketed in the thickest of fog and
The coldest of night air . . . One can sense with utter fear
And foreboding shivering sounds touching from the shadows
Creeping softly cold fingers down the spine with walking
Fingers crawling inside a prism of frozen ice and in a mist
Of souls crying in the presence of demons while yearning lust
Of one blanket covering the sky’s face painted showing
Hell’s own hideous face—an exquisite evil and a spirit
Drunken and moaning in an eternal fiery abyss of
Suffering and howling sounding their own lust for pain
Great darkness grips them who walk this troubled Earth
Without joy casting happiness to the lepers always and
Forever chained to the darkness and eating out hope
In the very end . . . .
From this spider’s web and nest of dark perpetual evil
The Phantom Vampire transforms himself from ethereal
Form to his human form quite frightening indeed for
Any human being gazing at his grim countenance and
His most fiery red eyes glaring intently whenever he
Encounters an unsuspecting soul . . . and the sight of
His razor-sharp canine teeth bring on convulsive fear
In the hearts and minds of his intended victims . . . . continued
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (November 6, 2014)
Categories:
unhallowed, dark, halloween, moon, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
Was he wrong to suggest
“All poetry, in a way, is about death.”
He was in such earnest
I was obsessed with that research
One may write of the loss of family:
Usually a parent, more unusually of a child
Then, too, families are lost voluntarily:
Divorce, foster homes, sibling rivalry gone wild!
Another may write of an aborted career
The miseducation of his or her youth
A “calling” may be from God, or less clear
Alas, hate and scheming, are part of this truth
Yet others may chisel out a poem, or ballad,
With haunting memories of a land far away
Of lover hung, exiled, drowned. More hallowed and sacred
Is your own love lost, shared … or unhallowed matrimony
So, there I had it, a monk weeping over lost purity
A maiden having valued not her virgin birthright
Are losses, or deaths, mediated by individuality
Even seasons gone, is a temporary death and flight
For in the grand scheme of things – I say Abba-Father
The seasons do cycle back on no man-made, circular invention
All things teach, preach, - are good, says the Creator
If love makes room for love of the Author of Resurrection!
© Anil Deo for 20170402
Categories:
unhallowed, children, death, divorce, heartbreak,
Form:
Rhyme
Stark silhouetted silent trees, like gravestones mark the ground,
where disquiet souls of long lost men, in mists of death abound.
A silence binds the fearful minds of all who enter here,
and senses scream against the fear that draws the spectres near.
A feeble moons distracted light, lends shadows to the gloom,
where any careless footstep may invite a dreadful doom.
The whispered cry of owl or ghost, sends shivers through the leaves,
to lift the hair on ice cold nape and disjoint shaken knees.
A thousand stares of black despair, keep watch throughout the glade,
Their mist seeks out unwary souls to bind them to the shade.
This dreadful place, unhallowed ground, the dare of those who would,
to brave that eerie haunt of they, who walk the deep dark wood.
This was such an inviting prompt I couldn’t resist. The Photo’s
Took me back to my childhood and a challenge that went
unanswered for many years, to walk through a small wood
and touch the wall of a ‘haunted’ ruin. I have tried to
Recapture the first couple of steps (as far as I ever got)
into that frightening place.
Categories:
unhallowed, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme Royal