Tag Archives: ravens

My Third Eye – A Poem


Patipat Asavasena

 

 

My Third Eye –

 

It’s been plucked.

Right out of my head.

There it is, pinched between

that raven’s beak.

It has been reclaimed it seems

since I never chose to use it.

An eye always closed.

grows dark and distant.

Best to give it to someone else.

Yet, I feel the pain of its

loss already

My mind, my spirit, my heart

has already dimmed.

I want it back.

I have learned my lesson.

I promise.

I will use it,  give it back…

give it back,

please give it back.

I will use it

just give it back.

 

by Philip Wardlow 2014

 

darksiders_raven_by_eldeivi

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Night Entreats – A poem for Halloween and the coming FALL next week!


The crows rested in the trees;

for the killing was all done and they

were full.

Their caws as they conversed,

sounded like laughter to my ear;

as if the murders they had committed

 had been all in good fun.

The wind whistled in the trees

and nudged the dead leaves

to life across the road.

Brown and gold skittered like roaches

and hopped like bulbous toads

traveling in a disorganized parade

for the dead.

The bright moon held no warmth

for it worked with the cold wind

and played through the trees to

cast pale blue shadows upon me.

Figures of dark demons, witches, and imps

danced in front and behind as I  softly crept

 lest they hear me trespass in their day they

called night as they played.

My step quickened as the wind seemed to thicken

and pushed at me like a hand on my back.

I grabbed myself against the chill which

ran deeper than it should this fall night.

This hallowed eve, it seemed, held more magic than ages

past, more power, more darkness than the last.

An ancient magic flew on a mystic wind

That brought to my soul a feeling of dread and

memories of evils best left long gone and dead.

The night entreated and beckoned

me to come and walk off the path I was on,

to follow the dead parade as it marched on.

Perhaps I could join in the fun

and dance with the minions

of the night who ate and drank of sweet

things they called treats.

They grinned at me from out of the dark,

but I saw the trick in their eyes

as they wiped the blood from their lips

I would not be fooled

So I ran,

faster than the wind could find me,

Faster, faster, faster I ran.

until I reached my hallowed home.

and clicked the lock shut tight.

The night retreats.

by Philip Wardlow