Long Deadly nightshade Poems

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Premium Member Along With The Thunder

Weightlessness
My soul floats "along with the thunder,"
Saturated with impending rain,
Scattered back throughout the earth,
Lost among ancient ruins and countless seas.

I awaken, feeling hollowness within my quivering heart.
Frantically getting dressed,
The front door blows open—
Listening to its siren's call.

Piece by fragile piece, I must absorb it back into my mortal coil.
Hike through deadly nightshade-tangled forests,
Sleep amongst somber bones in graveyards of contrition,
Push through arid, combusting deserts,
Swim through the waters of paranoia—
Riptides of mentholated melancholy.

Watch as the embers of dawn settle into the ashes of dusk.
Build a golden pyre upon the jaded shale,
Lay my weary bones on the cleansing flames,
Until I rise anew from the ashes,
Never again to be confined within corroded psychosocial cages.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.


A Soliloquy of Unrequited Love


Written on April 13th 2025 for Sara Jama's Prompt The Cold Embrace of Death

Reverberated within the empty chambers of my soul,  
As I soak my skin in a clawfoot tub, drowning in my sorrows.  
Daring the waves to wash me away,  
I lay barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of Merlot.  

Dismembered voices and I shared a night of haunting memories,  
As suppressed trauma resurfaces,  
My life flashes before my very eye,  
Murmurs of a soft lament of what could have been.  

At that moment, I was drunk with clarity,  
As I swashed the bottle swirling, a whirlpool of emotions.  
The red-stained taste of tomorrow’s regret coated my lips;  
In this state and plane of existence, my ghosts and I find solace  
In our shared suffering.  

I ask the Lord for respite from the unyielding ache  
Of unrequited love,  
Lying in stillness, for I am but a cast of your shadow,  
Like a wilting deadly nightshade.  

Breathless without rays of love to quell me,  
Forgotten upon a dusty shelf,  
Hexed by Eros’s wayward lovelorn arrow,  
Left to wander this plain perplexed.  

Pondering if you were both in cahoots,  
All the while, the unbearable ache of my burgundy beating chambers  
Spills into the tub.  
Then slowly,  
I sip,  
I drip,  
I slip,
Into,
The cold embrace of death.

Premium Member The Magical Forest

Walk along the leafy paths dappled with shade
turn over a rock or two and watch the scurrying
as little insects scatter looking for some covering
finding it underneath some sticks and a grass blade

Sit quietly and just listen to the song birds singing
with music and beauty they fill the forest glade
then walk down to the gurgling stream and wade
cooling feet in its crystal water with lots of splashing

Turn over the leaf of a fern and see the spores clinging
watch the leaves waving in the breeze as they are frayed
then some red deer fawns bucked, frolicked  and played 
not seeming to care who was there, jumping and springing

Squirrels chattering angrily as they  send nuts down in a cascade
bombarding all who pass by, they seem to lie, hidden and waiting
to catch unsuspecting walkers as they explore without disturbing
taking care to preserve  the wafts of bluebells and deadly nightshade

Wandering onwards seeing the silky cocoon of a future butterfly cacheted
and mushroom rings surround the tall trees mystical and captivating
some plain, many with multi-coloured spots  in sunshine glittering
old oak trees stand in splendour with leafs of emerald, turquoise and jade

Arriving at the banks of the lake surrounded by the forest glade
this place of mystery and tranquillity, no need of further searching
all one could ask for, spread out in glorious array that is so fitting
walking home I am content that into the magical forest today I strayed   

written 03/13/2014

contest: The Magical Forest

Premium Member The Silence Before The Flame

Clutched jaw, grinding teeth against pulp,
until ash and blood coat a deadened tongue.
The nightsong quiets—a pulsating silence encapsulates the land
as I walk up to a pyre built of withering dreams and deadly nightshade.

The cold, bitter air brushes against protruding flesh.
Looking toward the skies, faith stripped and shamed,
I climb and take my place among my ancestral spirits.

The silence of the night breaks, with chants of *Burn the witch* filling the void.
Leering eyes and foaming mouths scream obscenities my way.
But even among this fanatic freakshow, I hold on to my dignity.

I do not let them see the fear festering beneath my eyes,
nor does my lip quiver.
With insurmountable strength, I hold my head high
as I watch the torches preparing to set me ablaze.

Closing my eyes one final time, I breathe in everything I have ever held dear.
Memories flood—of loves lost and gained,
of the changing seasons,
of my connection to this glorious earth.

I can feel the flames licking at my feet now.
But I will not scream,
for my resurrection will come soon enough.
© Sara Jama  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Great Witches Bake Off

The Great Witches Bake Off is here again
Bakes so weird some have no name.
So fierce it was to be the winner,
The prize is fame, on Lucifer's underworld twitter.
Laughing and cackling but alert and suspicious
Each convinced their bake, unique and delicious.

Erin was making a blood drizzle cake
Three pints of pigs blood is what it would take.
Weevils were left in that thrived in the flour
Add three rancid eggs for a flesh rotting aroma.
Sprinkles of gun powder to help make it rise
But don't breath it in for your eyes would triple in size.

Val was attempting bubble and squeak pie
Every mouse could be heard, that is no lie.
A bubble collection of freezed dried frog spawn
Mix in some feathers from a unwilling white swan.
A few bunches of hemlock, carrots, turnips and greens
The poison so hot, you could hear screams from your spleen.

Wilma was busy stuffing a dozen bat heads,
With slivers of blood veins torn into threads.
Bat crumble with a topping of air fried bat legs,
Which gives a harsh crunch and a gross looking sealed edge.
Served with a dollop of deadly nightshade ice-cream
So potent you would hallucinate kindness in dreams.

Fairy cakes were made by cousin Nell,
Who was expelled when she was caught casting a spell.
The wings of dead fairies placed on top of her bakes,
Escaped out the window exposing her cheating mistake.
She cursed, swore revenge as she was escorted out
A witch trial there be, there be no doubt.

Who did win? who claimed the prize? 
It was Maggie the cat with her eye-spy-berry surprise.
For Frankie Stein Horner had hid in a dark corner,
As Maggies assistant and back stabbing informer.
Their deal was a lifetime of pies, for that was his dream
As Maggie quietly purred whilst licking her got cream.

                        18.10.24
Form: Rhyme


The Purple Belladonna

A demure damsel,  her prussian blue eyes. 
I astray all blurred, in subtle catalyze.
High cheek bones, beneath her caramel hair.
My purple veins pulse, in red wanton flare.

The pretty Belladonna smiles in cold blood,
Venom frolic my veins, they wilt in lava flood.
Extravagance of heaven, in blink of an hour,
I see lavender and lilac, in the toxic purple flower.




(Belladona in Italian means "beautiful lady",
 it is also a harmless looking poisonous plant with
purple flowers,.known as the deadly nightshade)


19th January,  2019
Submitted to Kevin Shaw Purple poetry contest
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member If I Were

[written for ‘If I Were’ contest, but not entered because, well, I just couldn’t help myself]


If I were a seagull, I’d sit in a tree 
I’d poop on the flower that sits beneath me
(A pretty good shot, I think you’d agree)
While humans decide what to give me for tea

Those humans think I belong close to the sea
And yet they all give me my supper for free
It’s real easy pickings but I have one plea
Don’t keep all the good stuff for your family

Your BLT sarnies inspire in me lust
I let you come near me, I show so much trust
It’s always the same, it’s not fair and not just
For you eat the bacon and I get the crust

I sing my song for you, you cover your ears
As though I awaken your primeval fears
And one tiny poo in your lunch leads to tears
But while you’re distracted, I sample your beers

             ***

If I were a flower beneath a tree
And some f*cking seagull  sh*t upon me
I’d scatter my pollen all over his tea
My name’s Deadly Nightshade, I’m wild and I’m free

              ***

If I were a tree and my seagull got sick
From eating the pollen from some little pr*ck
That grew in my shade where people picnic
I’d say that somebody was taking the mick

But why should I care, I’m a tree, the name fits
I stand here and get to see so many t*ts
And when a bus comes, it’s a big double decker 
For people have heard that I've got a wood pecker
Form: Rhyme

Bete Noir

I knew 
she was poison,
but 

as a young man
with jug ears 
and pimples
I gladly held out my glass
for more 
deadly nightshade.

She said 
she liked poetry
but 
it was obvious 
she had no taste 
for mine,

nevertheless 

I give it a shot
and when 
I had done
I sensed a door 
in her 
mind 
slamming shut

She was a 
beauty
and far too 
lovely
to be seen 
with me

so 

we ended up 
at her place
a small 
apartment
saturated
with the funk
of joss sticks.

She read me
some poetry 
of her 
own

occasionally 
glowering my way
to see if I were
paying attention,
it seemed obvious
that I had failed her test.

No 

- no sex 

we had 
a 1 on 1
counseling session,
I was the hapless client,

and 
quickly judged 
unfit
to imbibe 
her special
shade of 
toxin.

Premium Member Adamina and Everitt

Adamina and Everitt 

Her rib it was before the Master lost the plot in evil Eden
when Bella Donna Adamina handed the fruit to her man

Deadly nightshade Everitt sensed he did not take God’s bate
‘I know my place she fights for women’s equal chances here’

Hell came first before the hedonistic pastures but the story
was fake narrative propaganda misconstrued representation

Wishbones candy apples fortune cookies when she climbed
his mountain unperturbed by twisted concubine conceptions

No blasphemous satanic verse but pages turned the roller coaster
and history of world ensued with passion’s flowers blooming large


18 March 2017

Narrative Two-liner Quintet from the Ministry of Truth

Medicine Magnet

Magnet, mind, medicinal!
Silent sane to soar!
Anger, wax ephemeral!
Lion, time we roar!

Victim of the vicious?
That's all of us down here.
Belladonna, blunderbuss!
Dare to disappear!

Code of the volcanic core?
Heat. That's all there is.
Burn, O nuclear reactor!
Love, like lava kiss!

Dark fire, be my intellect!
Sizzle as you boil!
Golem, gold. Gone? Genuflect!
River, run to roil!

Organ music, play for keeps!
Dissonant and fine!
Inspiration! How it leaps!
Mandrake, please make wine!

Deadly nightshade, glassy bead!
Heart within all, bleed!
Nothingness, what people need!
Flicker as you feed!

Vampire, dawn is fatal!
So do not go outside!
Amniotic, prenatal!
Terror, must we hide?

Cauldron, contain witch's brew!
Strongest! That will do!
Hope, by God, will ye accrue?
Safe succor, we sue!

Blessings, flow! My angels, dance!
Demons, fly in ring!
Fate and Fortune, now's our chance!
Sylvan, sacred! Sing!

Swing, branches of druid's tree!
Machine, melody!
Fill my heartblood, fancy-free!
Prayer and prophecy!

Positive? O prison shiv!
We all love to live!
Agony, thy gift to give?
Mankind: new missive!

Heaven and Hell, thee I tell!
Gibbous moon, thy spell!
Kin and kingdom, knick or knell?
Wicker, nicker, well...
Form: Rhyme

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