Dragon’s Den, a Halloween poem.
***
Poking, at the dragon’s den
the Golden Man is playing games.
Nor fire, nor flames
but bells and whistles
from the dragon’s mouth escape.
Dragon’s Den
autumn poem
Reign of Terror
Here’s a little seasonal Halloween poem, Reign of Terror.
Reign of Terror,
the sick becomes sicker
the hungry hungrier.
Twenty million reasons
away into the night fly
while the land into the dawn cries.
Happy October!
The Golden Man
Here’s a little October poem, The Golden Man.
Fail and flail,
the madman on the golden throne.
Dreams of golden nuggets, of crowns, and crones.
October Fright
October is almost here, and with it, the Halloween decorations start appearing in stores and homes. When I was a child I loved Halloween, and as an adult, I enjoyed making elaborated candy bags for the neighborhood kids, as many as a hundred bags, and many times, all of them went before 8 PM that day. I enjoyed seeing the little kid’s costumes, and in the back of my mind I always picked a favorite – the winner for the day. I dressed up for work on a few occasions – alien, ninja, enchantress … Although I don’t celebrate Halloween anymore, (my views of the celebration have changed considerably), I think most people enjoy dressing up for it, and enjoy the day with their kids. In lieu of it, I have decided to post a few four-line poems, quartets.
White Lies
Coward surrounded by white
Eagles left behind.
Rotten soul hiding behind the mask,
slowly decaying, festering in lies.
***
A Broken Touch
Not Midas, nor gold
Broken is the old man’s touch.
Chaos, disarray, disdain …
IT brings forward a broken world.
***
The Boogie Man
Everything he touches crumbles,
taste of decay and desolation.
Lonely soul awaiting fate
Days run short, darkness engulfs him.
Of Mice and Bats – A Halloween Poem
A Halloween poem.
Of Mice and Bats
False hero has fallen
entwined in lies
pricked by the spikes of his creation.
Have a Happy Fall!
The Fall
Not your typical Autumn poem
The Fall
Master of Lies
white walls crashing
Autumn of the righteous.
Fallen
Fallen – A Thanksgiving Poem
Rust, yellow, brown
Life becomes death
Fallen leaves, withering trees
Spirit sleeps within.
The earth sleeps countless dreams
The heart beats a million thanks
To live to die, to die to live
Spirit lives within.
A thankful heart
Fallen to Earth
Asleep in rusts
Alive, still, rests.
Spirit blesses the earth below
Awakes the heart
the sleeping soul
from dusk till dawn.
Inkspeare 