I lay, I stare, I look around… it's black as pitch. I'm underground.
I'm chained, I'm bound, the walls are tight. Someone help me! Give me light!
Trickles of liquid run through my chains. I smell the blood as it seeps from my veins.
The air hangs heavy and smells of damp earth,
Help me, hear me, give me rebirth!
Despair; it is taking me, my blood draining low, when a rumble above me, it renews my soul
My was my tomb, bound here for certain,
But now I hear them: dig, dig, pull back the curtain.
Its close now I feel it, then the door did burst free,
Someone was sneering, yes, sneering down upon me.
He said not a word, he made no move to help me more.
He simply stuffed a rag in my mouth and with a wicked chuckle, closed the door.
As a citizen poet without pretension,
I offer a true tale of my invention.
A solid everyman in my community,
with a reputation of immunity,
I was happy and content.
I shared my thoughtful insights,
and wrote about the northern lights.
My words made grown men cry.
I think about it and breathe a sigh -
I was something else!
But, one morning, I woke up
and drank acidic coffee from my cup,
which my wife served black as pitch.
Inside I felt a strange, hot itch.
Could it be indigestion?
No ordinary heart inside my chest,
was it the Devil who had me possessed?
Burning inside, I fretfully undressed,
as, to despair, I acquiesced,
and went back to bed.
But, the feeling persistently welled,
until, at last, I was oddly compelled,
and in terror, I was gripped,
so my own skin, I violently ripped,
exposing my insides.
There, I saw sprockets and springs,
gears, knobs and other things,
and screamed an existential cry,
knowing I could neither live, nor die,
for all I was, was just AI.
Six ravens, black as pitch -
at the signal, all will switch.
One bird flies leaving five.
While one man's soul is still alive,
his body's in a ditch.
Five monks in an abbey, cloiste'd
with five cats 'neith ceilings, joisted.
One forgot to say his prayers.
His body's at the bottom of the stairs,
while his soul is hoisted.
Four candles, all aflame -
don't you think it is a shame
that nobody heard the shout,
as one of them was snuffed out,
while no one knew his name.
Three little maids from school -
one forgot the golden rule
leaving not a jot or clue.
Now there are but two.
Don't play her for a fool.
Two paths vanished in the wood.
Only one did as she should,
taking the path less travelled...well, not quite,
and returned on that frightful night.
The other is gone for good.
The devil said, "You have one chance -
that is to say, 'May I have this dance?'"
And now my story's done,
because, alas, there are none.
Should I have warned you in advance?
I'm going to tell you a tale that may frighten you
about the precursor of death that will pursue...
There's iridescent beauty found on his ebony wings
but always of impending death his cawing sings.
He perches as a grim reaper on the fence, taunting
as if on my gravestone to bring fear and daunting
A dance step to his left then quickly to the right
He takes wicked pleasure, but I will feel no fright
for never will I weep and as long as I remain alive
His corvine refrain fortifies my strength to survive
Black as pitch he sits, fluttering wings on my gate
I refuse to accept him as foreshadower of my fate
I'm not destined to be the carrion that he will feast
In shadows, day and night, lingers the black beast
Jeering with an evil stare, are bright beady eyes
His dark presence I've come to loathe and despise
Blackguard! I shall curse him until my last breath
Begone raven! Today, I will not waltz with death
Now you know the tale of what keeps me awake
It's the macabre one whose thirst I refuse to slake
I am still alive and have not yet fallen from grace
So, I will not let him lead me to an unholy place
Was it her face the mist belies
The glow of green held piercing eyes
These woods I dare to walk this night
Are shimmered still by fear and fright
When Aggy lived and walked the earth
Her eyes were rumored since her birth
To hold the power of a witch
To summon darkness, black as pitch
Should you be lured into her lair
Within her voodoo to ensnare
Her bidding then forevermore
Your fate to follow, fast and sure
Yet through the woods, this Hallow’s Eve
Despite the mist sent to deceive
I risk where she is known to dwell
Where eyes of Aggy cast their spell
They Only come out at Night
Like Smoke throught the Forest
Floating in the Air
not a Sound to be heard
Over Hills They go
Down into Valley's They Flow
Creeping slowly down a Road
Up into Your Driveway
onto Your Porch it Comes
into a Crack it flows
Black as Pitch
Cold as Ice
Looking for the One
Up out of a Slit in the Floor
it Creeps to a Door
Under it goes
Slow and steady
it is always ready
under a Bed
Ready to Grab Your Head
and take You away
where You will NEVER see the Light of Day
Black as pitch
Cold as ice
Dry as sand
Half as nice
Never seen
All alone
Hidden face
Heart of stone
Dead by day
Dead by night
Always dark
Never bright
Hit by stars
Solar wind
Lonely rock
Till the end
On the Outback Downs of Queensland
There is the strangest light
I have seen it first hand
And it sure gave me a fright
I was camped out while Lamb Marking
On the Downs out Corfield way
Hot days with sheep dogs barking
We sure did earn our pay
On one eve when days work done
We sat around a fire
Telling yarns, let our tongues run
Leant back against the wire
As I looked out in the distance
The night was black as pitch
A light with some insistence
Gave my interest an itch
I knew that there was nothing there
Only us for miles around
What was this light, gave us a scare
Some six feet from the ground
I got up, had another look
I called for volunteers
Let's go take a butchers hook
But all I got was jeers
I walked away out to the side
Until it disappeared
We still see it here they cried
Now that was pretty weird
So make your own mind up about
That Queensland Min Min light
I can say there is no doubt
Was on the Downs that night
A red sun, pooling like a drop of blood:
coagulates at the edge of darkness.
And ebony flows like a rising flood:
black as pitch, inking a seamless starkness.
A gilded moon, like a pitted gold coin,
beams in the sky as a beacon of light.
And twinkling like flashing fireflies, stars join
quasars and pulsars, lighting up the night.
Dawn frets like a nervous actor offstage,
while preparing to introduce the sun.
And as a gossamer breeze comes of age,
morning shimmers, like a web, freshly spun.
And Sol rises: as a golden balloon,
afloat in the air, like a songbird's tune.
Peeking in the door at me at a quarter to three
What to my amazed wandering eyes could it be?
A goblin or a ghost or a tiny warlock banshee?
Peeking in the door at me at a quarter to three…
I ran to the door and I looked out with all my able-bodied might.
And I flipped on my notoriously not-very-good porch light.
But what was I able to see at this time of night?
Just a flickering bulb that was not very helpful or bright.
I began to search for a flashlight when I heard a tee-hee.
Something invisible, which was giggling, was following me!
My blood ran cold and I asked it to please leave me alone.
Then I and she came over here to write this little poem.
It could be a gargoyle, a phantom vampire or a witch.
Whatever it is, it makes the floaters in my eye fairly twitch.
It’s Hallows Eve and the night is as black as pitch.
Whoever it is, it has a laugh that scares me and Uncle Mitch.
Darkness black as pitch,
Moonlight drifting in,
Clouds drift by,
Biting winds freeze the skin,
Midnight is here,
The witching hour its said,
Spells and hexes to be cast,
Invoking spirits from the past,
The coven of 13 casting spells,
Trespass if you dare,
It's all Hallows eve ........ Take care
Quoth The Raven
Under frosted blankets lay
On crispy frozen petals,
Sipping hearty beverages
Of dandelion and nettles,
As I gasp on misty chortles
Reflecting in an icy puddle,
Deathly spirits reminisce
Outside my winter huddle.
Snow, snow, she hath no gold
To pave my path to spring,
The raven stole my summer
To mend her broken wing,
I cannot pay my passage
If the mortal raven calls,
Neither he nor the tally man
Can catch me if I fall.
Darkness lays round about
In the silent fields of hell,
Naked as the eerie sound
Of a distant tolling bell,
My poisoned body squirming
Upon my true loves eyes,
Spreading feathers black as pitch
She flies, she flies, she flies.
Autumn seems a distant dream
Of amber painted leaves,
So I'll sleep 'neath the canopy
That is woven into wreaths,
There I mock the starless sky
As it shrouds my oaken chest
"Good riddance" quoth the raven
As they lay my bones to rest.
Miserable grey, damp wet Days
Days shorter and winters Long
Long bleak dark Evenings
Evenings as black as pitch.
Bright frosty cold Mornings
Mornings glistening in the Sun
Sun shines cold as the Day
Day soon will become night.
Snow crisp and White
White flurries fall from the Sky
Sky as white as the Day
Day fades into a crisp evening.
Days engulfed with Floods
Floods devastating your Home
Home unfit to live In
In shelter we seek comfort.
the day the earth saw no light
the day the sun was dark
when the moon was black as pitch
the day we gave up.
when the sun turned to stone
and the earth fell inward
when i fell on mw sword
and God has stretched his
second chance
beyond the limits of time
is the day i saw the sun go dark
and the day life stopped its never
ending will is the last day
i saw the sun rise.
Hurriedly through the night it came
Blanketing the ground in white
A storm of raging wind and snow
Late one Christmas Eve night
It came to us with little warning
A blizzard of blinding white
While families bowed their heads
Giving thanks for the birth of Christ
The winds did howl like a wolf
And snow drifts halted travel
The dark night was black as pitch
Emergency crews were frazzled
Then as the night gave way to dawn
They found the silver lining
Families snowed in for Christmas
Seemed winter had perfect timing
Copyright © 2010 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
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