Tag Archives: dark poetry

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

The Road – A poem

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dark-road-through-woods

The Road

Like a tornado the ravens circle,

as roadkill litters the  highway, sitting in piles by the roadside.

Scurry, scurry little ones,

lest you be picked off.

Your senses are keen but never keen enough.

For who can see

everything;

every act, every thought, every disease,

every evil deed gone awry

or to perfect plan

coming down the road.

Not me.

So be careful little creatures;

look with eyes wide as you cross the dark road.

Be smart.

Be wise.

Be wary.

and perhaps most of you will

survive the night.

by Philip Wardlow 2013

GiFs for your Entertaiment, Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Deadly Campfire – A poem for all you Campers out there this summer

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campfire

We abide by the warmth of the fire,

our backs to the cold night woods that surround,

as dark imaginings linger through already mangled minds.

What could it be that terrorizes us this night?

We hear it, for it roams in a circle about us,

raking its claws on the trees in its passage,

brazen and bold in its rustling of the dead leaves

underfoot as it tromps its course.

Heavy breathing speaks of a great beast.

Long ago did our merriment falter and grow

into a cruel sickness within.

Fear is our only companion at this gathering

turned into a mournful wake by nature’s

hidden foe.

Rose was a pleasant girl,  bright and full

of light.

She was the first to go.

Harold never had a chance as it took him.

I  have his blood splattered across my clothes.

I shall miss them both.

Max was next, with his silly stupid grin,

as  it’s claws raked his face off.

Julie cried and cried, and held tight to

her log, but still she died as it took her

and that piece of rotten wood.

Sylvia and I  stare into the embers,

clinging to each other and a reality

that no longer resides.

Once there were six,

now only two.

My beautiful Sylvia,  my love, my life.

Yet still I feel no remorse as I throw

her to the creature and  began to run… Running%20Shadow

**********************

by Philip Wardlow 2013

Inquiring Minds, Poetry Work

Bloody Ballet – A Poem

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BloodHeart

Bloody Ballet

She pirouettes

adorned in a dress

of black gossamer,

Spinning with blade

in hand to music only

she hears.

Flame red hair sweeps the air,

flinging outward, as

drops of crimson

drip from the tip

to the cold hard floor;

knives held tight by

delicate fingers.

Her hands move with

the intensity of the allegro.

Alive, brisk, and deadly.

The sharpness of her tools

keep up with her demands

of dissection and delving.

The other dancers

fall before her

as if in silent repose.

Arabesque to glissade,

her strong legs coupe

across the floor,

she cuts and cuts and cuts

and does a sourbresaut

like a cat jumping

onto her final partner

in this ensemble of now

only one.

She seeks his heart

as the point punches through.

Death follows

Yet still it beats

as she holds it,

Still it beats

as she takes a bite.

Still it beats

as she rises from

her grand plie

and takes a bow

to the crowd

from

center stage.

By  Philip Wardlow 2013