Between dusk and dawn lie vampiric hues,
they grow and become sticky on the skin;
Leaving a melancholic midnight bruise,
the day ends so another can begin;
Wandering beneath artificial light,
brighter than the lit skyline they sparkle;
Their insidious backdrop of the night
joins the city’s underlying circle;
Finessing the darkest urban vision,
fireproof they fade in the softest shadows;
Moving with so much stealth and precision,
fangs will be minding the stoop after close;
A spectrum of color in those dark lies
makes it so easy to fall for their eyes.
emot ons
th t come nd go
op n ons th t trend then v n sh
nto th n r – not even le v ng ghost of n mpr nt
so the le ves g ve up the r l feblood to the dec duous trees
to sc tter the r thoughts onto the ch ll ng ground underne th
fert le ground for hot goss p nd the
result nt
m nure
m nds
th t
trophe
when
rely ng
on
A
I
toreplacethecreativeprocessweareallendowedwith
We can be friends.
And lovers.
And foes.
Or we could be strangers.
And neighbours.
And workmates.
With no love for one another.
Until we make what choice.
Or not.
Maybe.
I will still.
Always.
And forever.
Love you.
#StvnyPoetry
Insipid be the bounty, lain before the masses.
Languishing are those the ravenous harasses.
Mortals just morsels to a hunger never sated.
Fear laden blood keeps who feeds intoxicated.
The crazed stare unphased, their beckoning insidious.
They whom lay slayed, just meat for the carnivorous.
Of men or of babe be plated and devoured.
To this they're enslaved by ritual empowered.
Disposed as they go the corpses they eviscerate.
Now over, the glow danced by as they incinerate.
Theres a wish to punish the aged again.'
Its intended to start in old Britain..'
To protect their lives ostensibly
The government intend to be turn-key
To remove familiy contact (all for their good)
To sap their resiliance; its by many understood
Euthanistic doctors may be on hand??
You would almost think there is a plan??
A sort of plan-denic?? Is that at hand? Or is
Misinformation?? Abroad in the land?? So much
To consider.? So little to know.! But the biat is
Really rocking is one thing that shows..!
Her lipsticks lost some while ago;
thrown angrily into the bin.
Lips now bare, it wasn't such a blow,
she thought, taking her second Gin.
It's not right for my position
it made her look a tart, he said.
It's not much of a submission,
she thought, making the marriage bed.
Last year, he sold the second car
I'll take you where you need to be.
No need for me to travel far,
she thought, preparing evening tea.
The checks she signs are now declined
her credit card is cut in two,
A weight's been lifted from my mind,
she thought when serving him his brew.
You need to stay at home all week,
you know that is a woman's place.
I will; I'd better not misspeak,
she thought while staring into space.
You can repair that dress of yours
I need to buy myself a suit.
So what! I never go outdoors,
she thought. Then whispered, what a brute!
His new love told
him to hold dark
his old lady
Insidious harmony
inadequacy and impotence; infection of valet
destruction annihilates the human spirit
ballroom choreography reveals deficiency
stamina illuminated by revitalized behavior
impending fortitude seeks out the seeker
soaring ambitions will fertilize emergence
robust tenacity breeds dominating disposition
committing deportment flavors the hunger
concluding interlude contribute the means
seldom encountered but forever introduced
3/21/2021
The seeds of hatred will have their harvest unless removed.
Inspired by Mark Elam's excellent sonnet "Hatred."
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/hatred_1108371
One somber summer night
darkness descended
to destroy and deaden
a dappled candle on the table.
A soulless silver smile
turned gray and tarnished
and your eyes that once aglow
lost its luster and life
for it was destined
to falter and fade forever.
Now, a child within me weeps~
as sepulchral silence spawns silhouettes
of abysmal labyrinth~
in bloody snowy pavement.
The candle dies...my hope soon will...
so in blood-stained feet, I run and run~
until the shadows from the woods
swallow my insidious fear.
November 5,2020
occult believers
obtain obsidian blades
volcano's black blood
23rd August 2020
* Solidified lava which cools rapidly forms the crystal,
Obsidian. It's synonymous with spiritual rituals,
used historically by witches, carved into swords.
Isaac Newtown apparently has a more contemporary
association with Obsidian.
* Obsidian is described as a color in my reference book,
'The Secret Lives of Colour' by Kassia St. Clair 2016
* Black, with hint of transluscent olive green.
Tania Kitchin, Sponsor
Haiku Color Alliteration
menacing black silhouette occupant of doom
silently working a slow venom bloom
deliberate struts on a stretch of silk string
pin point needles work threads to cling
long elegant strands tethered for a crossing
woven rows of windows
lies kept inside silk blinds in tow
ominous, outlaw perched beside terror
another victim caught in a sticky horror
courage moves fear a step closer to capture
intricate weave of warfare
the snare into hopeless surrender
thralled by the looming ferocious creature
simply spinning reflex into smother
the insidious view to a spider
Terry D'Arcy-Ryan
Someone will give affliction inside Insidious words.
Others consume without direction wondering alone outside of the herds.
Most high before the forest vailed behind many cloaks.
The remaining stand in front of the source, with the fortitude of the mighty oaks. For whatever comes to life I'm forever the bearer of the fight.
As the blood runs off the knife each drip drops bombs of smite.
Good and evil clash
In a duel
Staged to smash
Surrogacy and supremacy fuel
In engines roaring
To influence
Folks on the Earth roaming
Bereft of conscience
Power drunk
To sample and dabble
In lamb or skunk
With tension treble
In scenes
Odious, mysterious
In virtues or sins
Folks deem delirious
When along terminator
Comes along
Brushing aside drivel disseminator
Who sows and grows worlds of wrong.
The tumultuous pain needing release
Sending chimes upon my brain increase
Insidious beeping
And always creeping…
Of nurses--shoving needles on my crease
Russell Sivey
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