“I like my lover's heart blackened with a deeper shade of darkness, where the ravens and I can rest in peace.” Ann Marie Eleazer
She had her potions ready, plus an arrow etched with runes.
Stygian mists swirled all around, yet she had perfect aim.
Into the dark forest she went and spotted the raven.
A deadly hit but ill-omened: it was a female black bird.
Cursing in anger, she knew it proved no good for her.
The male raven flew above her as she entered the mansion.
Dressed in black, she entered her dilapidated bedroom to change.
Below, all waited, dressed for the occasion.
They heard a muffled scream, and all ran upstairs.
A long time passed, and no one dared enter the room.
Finally, the door creaked open. Dust, soot, while a poison ivy
Grew on damp curtain wooden rails, a dilapidated screen
Hid a tattered black dress, while two black ravens flew into the night.
Categories:
ill omened, dark, fantasy, raven,
Form: Free verse
As I look back on the torrent winds of the fate that mars my mind.
Back at the measured erosion of my convictions.
Back at the losing elements of my loving drive to conquer.
Back on the relationships that drown in a river of tears.
A river of tears that precariously became a barren desert to my soul.
Back on the temptest of my sins.
Now through the secretive forest of time do I see the inauspicious path I've traveled.
I have succumbed to my fate and do not have any more sessions of dreams being a righteous conqueror.
No more sessions of dreams to be a righteous anything.
Feeble is my spirit as I continue my travel down this inauspicious path.
No longer shall I allow myself to sniff at the fragrance of hope.
No longer shall I allow myself to look at the sun through ill-omened branches.
A baleful and ominous future I do embrace, for my passion for life is bleak as I move swiftly down this inauspicious path.
Copyright January 21, 2017
Categories:
ill omened, depression,
Form: Free verse
From assassins fleeing but finally spotted,
One’s good image guarding and still it is blotted;
An ill-omened murderous car
Crushing one’s guiltless star!
A team playing out its heart but lifting no trophy,
Zero approbation bagging for one’s philanthropy;
A last- round knockout receiving from a punch-drunk pugilist,
God truthfully serving but still tagged an animist.
Also, forever battling with recognition
While not indifferent to its precondition
Or, of a sudden, experiencing health issues
After stepping into demanding shoes…
The jaws of Devourer Fate
Remain The Widest Gate:
That which would storm one’s path
And for days not important a bath.
Categories:
ill omened, anxiety, bereavement, creation, destiny,
Form: Rhyme
HER TIME
ill- dated she thought
ill-humored her birth brought
ill-omened her race
ill-starred her pace.
Through thick hide
Though beffudled
Hard-boiled she remained
Her bright future is imminent.
Ineluctable is her fate
Bridled by unknown
Blithe she ever has been
Awaiting a pleasant futurity.
An Ijeoma Ikonne's poem © 2021
Categories:
ill omened, confidence, encouraging, environment, time,
Form: Rhyme
The setting sun swings from gold
To deepen into bloodshot red.
And as I sit alone upon the sand,
Of a long forgotten inlet bay,
I feel its fainting warmth, its ending joy,
As ill-omened gulls glide overhead
And screech away their hideous song.
I gaze into the gathering gloom,
I see your face, lovely and fresh,
And feel your soft and tender skin,
So velvety under my caressing hands;
O how I wish and yearn you were with me
To share the sun's last warm embrace,
To let you mesmerize me with kisses sweet,
To dream with love the night away with me.
Categories:
ill omened, lost love,
Form: Free verse
That beast that prowls and lurks
Always on the doors opposite side
Primeval and fetid scents rising
For it is here evil resides
Locked within these crumbling walls
Or so I have come to believe
In these halls distant and aloof
Ill-omened phantoms hang in warning
Stillness splinters from a shrill impact
A morbid acidic shriek trills from darkness
Perturbing the window panes peace
Shattering the walls content barriers
Terror stifles my throat closed
A repetitive blast goes off in my chest
Over and over against my consciousness
At wits end I fight the urge to run
To find safe haven from reaching talons
With irregular breath whipping me
I hold steadfast to feigned courage
Readying to look it in the eye and battle
Only to find the rampant torturing fiend
Are the pre-dawn winds playful wisps
Wreaking havoc on my half-awake mind
Categories:
ill omened, angst, confusion, introspection, visionary,
Form: Free verse
At midnight, awakened,
The ravens stir.
You thought it was a dream.
Ill-omened prophets,
Of the night, are they.
Flying through the realm
of your ominous mind.
Foraging, ungainly,
For the desire in your heart,
No longer to be found.
As you’ve already
Given in to the darkness.
Your breath begins to fade,
Death’s door unlocks and opens.
Now above you,
The ravens caw in vain.
Because of your doubt,
You lacked any faith.
You died with that doubt
And with a soul unsaved.
Categories:
ill omened, faith,
Form: I do not know?