Beware the Horseman ( Ichabod’s Bridge )

 

Each year at this time an age old story gets told

Of a horseman beheaded by cannon fire round

Knocked from his mount he lay dead in the cold

Revolutionary war at an end quiets battlefield sound

 

Many years to this day the soldier remains

Endlessly searching for that which was lost

Frantically galloping through shadowed terrain

Hunting for aeons through chilled autumn frost

 

So if you must journey these dark forests at night

Be ever so wary and with your travels make haste

Don’t lose your purpose and keep your haven in sight

If your trespass is noticed, for your head you’ll be chased

 

Know if you are hunted by the sabre-wielding spectre of lore

A covered bridge marks the boundary of this spirits domain

So sprint through the brush toward the cold waters shore

Find this old bridge now named for one Ichabod Crane

 

Ichabod was the first to be chased by Horseman sans head

Many accounts tell us he most assuredly wasn’t the last

Crane was elusive and clever,  found the bridge when he fled

Others found fates gruesome misfortune of many years passed

 

A vengeful apparition atop a black steed with Hellfire’s eyes.

His cavalry sword held proud swings high under harvest moon

Blade swings heavy and lightning quick to claim it’s new prize

Those not swift or crafty as Crane, find eternal nightfall so soon

 

Again I implore that if you ride through these woods after dark

Know where you’re going, move rapidly and mind where you tread

For if this ghostly equestrian finds you and his blade finds it’s mark

You’re doomed to spend eternity in an unthinkable Hell with no head

A Lycan’s Lament

If I could change the events of my past

Would I choose to turn back the dial ?

Stricken by my grisly new existence

Reality for eternity cunning and vile

 

I no longer tell time by watch or by clock

I follow the cycle of the nights bright moon

When it comes full and lights up the sky

Curse of the ages comes upon me too soon

 

My senses heighten along with anticipation

Eagerness abounds yet infuses with fear

The unceasing need to move swift on the hunt

Hunger driven by light of that silvery sphere

 

Instinct takes over as scent of prey abounds

Will to control vanishes, replaced by bloodlust

Spreading torment of my affliction without thought

Casting my eternal damnation upon victims unjust

 

Under lunar spell or in human form I have no remorse

Am I not, after all, bringing immortality into light?

Hunting is the only means of survival for my kind

By claw or by angry bite, victims will share my plight

 

The hunt always brings to question animalistic morality

If I am truly remorseless why do I dream so vividly dark

In restless sleep my victims plead for return to normalcy

In my waking hours my thoughts of guilt find their mark

 

Fate’s cruel hand has been dealt and I have no recourse

Yet my compassion for my mortal brother remains somehow

Survival is far too formidable an instinct to deny or control

My damnation endures and follows a path only destiny allows

 

Contemplation of my circumstance leaves me woefully troubled

For myself and for the tragically unaware that may cross my path

I am demanded by nature to follow the code of beastly instinct

Regret matters not as a full moon rises again to bring forth my wrath 

 

A new day dawns and I wake to the familiar smell of blood and earth

My thoughts quickly chase to remember the events of last nights moon

Ghastly visions of my horrific manifestation run through my cloudy head

As my worst reality hits… this lunar curse will return again, far, far too soon

 

 

 

Sinful Veritas

Here is another piece co-written by me and my friend Hasty at www.Hastywords.wordpress.com. She is a truly gifted artist with the written word and I consider myself lucky to get to compose with her. I am also pleased to announce that she is now a published poet. Follow the link provided to open a brand new world of tremendous wordplay. “Darker Side of Night”. Be sure to check out her awesome blog site as well.

Darker Side of Night is available at Amazon in paperback or ebook.

 SINFUL VERITAS

 

Stormy clouds enveloped them

Hiding their meeting in the sky

Where dark angels congregated

With majestic ash covered wings

 

This gathering so dangerously forbidden

For the dark should never romance the light

But Heavenly allegiance holds no power here

As wings of white radiance tangle with those of fiery brilliance

 

Their passion rolling inside the thunder

Producing sparks that light up the sky

Their hungry appetite a clapping crescendo

Frightening earthly inhabitants with their rendezvous

 

The Demonic and the Divine twist eagerly in torrid revelry

Pushing boundaries of unspeakable eroticism and treacherous taboos

This heightening fervor becoming a furiously euphoric frenzy

The pure and possessed alike hunger for ecstasy and salacious satiation

 

  Will love overcome their bond and paint beautiful rainbows in the sky

Or will the deviance of dark wreck destruction outside our front doors

The romance of light battling the lust of dark within our atmosphere

Strong impassioned fervor between two forces longing to be one again

 

Nothing righteous could ever come from this unearthly carnal carnival

Writhing deities cast shadows of illicit acts performed by both angels and demons

Mankind is brought to it’s knees by lascivious desires sent down from a hole in the sky

The overpowering strength of reckless abandon spills forth casting a spell on all humanity

 

 

 

Written by Hastywords and JMC813

Bloody Mary

 

  She can hear her friends giggling and joking outside the bathroom door. Teenagers can be so cruel. Even to their closest friends it seems. She stands in front of the mirror in pitch black darkness. Now locked in the tiny washroom she is beginning to regret saying she didn’t believe. Taking this stupid dare now seems like a mistake. Best to just get it done with and move on. The sooner she does this the sooner she will be able to continue drinking and carousing with her friends. Directly in front of the mirror she stands, barely able to make out her figure in the dark moonless night. She leans close to the mirror, and with false bravado speaks clearly.

 

                                           “Bloody Mary”

 

  A large howl erupts piercing the air as the strong wind pushes through the trees outside the little window. Startled, she  jumps back a step and her heart races at the sudden noise. She chuckles under her breath and shakes her head. “Chicken shit”. Her eyes start to adjust to the darkness all around. Her Imagination casts shadows on the wall behind her as she starts to feel the cold chill of terror. Again she leans into her reflection and she hears the words leave her lips.

 

                                            “Bloody Mary”

 

  This time the words come out much less confidently and with a slight tremble in her voice. Her friends still lurking near the door goading and taunting. The hair stands up on the back of her neck and every inch of flesh on her body raises in goose bumps.  Is it her imagination or did it really get that much colder in this small room? She truly believes that there is nothing to fear, yet with each passing moment her anxiety increases. Every tiny noise is amplified as she is overtaken by fright. Phantom shadows dance on the wall and in her mind as she draws deep from the well of her own courage. She shuts her eyes tight as a single tear runs down her cheek and with a catch in her throat and shaky articulation she softly whispers

 

                                             “Bloody Mary”

 

  The young girl opens her eyes wide and waits. Watching the mirror intently for this vengeful apparition to appear. Nothing… Absolute silence. Even the wind outside the window has died. Her tension begins to lift as a smile brings color back to her face. She will be the one laughing now. She turns to leave the bathroom thinking only of how she will tease and chastise her friends over more strong drink and general teenage mayhem. She swings open the door forcefully to loudly begin her onslaught of verbal revenge.

   In a split second of recognition everything changed forever. This poor girl’s screams could be heard three blocks away as tragedy worse than any nightmare was now reality before her very eyes. Her three very best friends on the planet lay scattered about on the floor in a sea of scarlet. Throats ripped wide open, and midsections dreadfully disemboweled. Even worse than all this was their eyes. Three sets of eyes still wide open and holding within them an expression of fear beyond any human comprehension.

  This gruesome scene discovered by parents the following morning. The poor girl was found blood soaked and curled up in a fetal position on the floor in the middle of her lifeless friends corpses. Arms around her knees, and eyes unblinking, she rocked slowly back and forth muttering the same three words again and again. “She is real…..she is real…..she is real…..she is……”

 

                                      “Bloody Mary” Exists.

Pride of Icarus

Constructed by his father’s own ingenious artisan hands

Wings made of wax and feather’s of flightworthy bird

Escape from tyrannical captors is all but assured

Freedom at last from Greek isle of Crete’s burning sands

 

Sire’s wisdom of age and scion’s compulsion of youth

Sage advice from the elder, “follow close, don’t stray”

“and venture never close to the suns scorching rays”

Never was a man ever as correct as this sayer of sooth

 

The elder springs forth from highest cliffside to a waiting sky

Liberation from his island prison, he feels what it is to be free

Effortlessly gliding above the quiet morning Mediterranean sea

Wings of feathers and wax hold strong, what pure bliss it is to fly

 

Impatient successor leaps from the precipice’s edge without any fear

The adrenaline flows as his wings carry him above his father’s flight

Wise man looks back, sets eyes on his son, reckless boy at dangerous height

The young man is too high and feeling the heat from sky’s fiery sphere

 

Exuberant young man finds bravado in flight and ventures higher still

Shouts from his elder to reign in his exhiliration fall on deaf ears

Sound of air through his wings and a chorus of angels all that he hears

Drawn by urge to be closer to heaven, he soars ever higher chasing the thrill

 

A proud young man eagerly shows God and the world his artistry of flight

He glides and he soars without care of consequence or heed of firm warning

His wings start to melt, feathers fall away the result of Helios’s warming

Altitude is lost and panic sets in as the reality of gravity spells out his plight

 

Daedalus can only watch as his impetuous son falls from a sky of sapphire

Smoke of singed wing follows poor Icarus as he plummets from the atmosphere

Terminal velocity brings him down to meet an angry sea, his fate sealed severe

The demise of this cavalier young man was pride, as ego became his funeral pyre.

 

Written long ago, “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall”

Words Icarus had probably heard but never listened, as clearly they weren’t heeded

 maybe he understood but cunning ego convinced him those words were not needed

Only one of the seven  sins, but it is spoken true, Pride is the most deadly of them all

“Sea of Life”

Each morning I wake to begin my seemingly endless journey anew

 

The tide is in and it is time to navigate these rough waters once again

 

This intricate dance with the waves, the ebb and flow of inconsistent surf

 

Unendingly vast and fathoms deep, I question my ability to stay on course

 

I look to the sky and the brightest stars above to guide my way back home

 

Which are arrows toward my destination, and which exist only to confuse my route?

 

Occasionally afloat, yet often submerged while the pressures of the deep constrict

 

The times I feel I am riding the crest of the highest waves are frequently replaced

 

Interchanged with the feeling that I am sinking. Drowning in the murky depths

 

Oh, how I am longing to feel the strength of solid earth beneath my weary feet

 

I scan the horizon far and wide for the sight of sacred ground to call my new home

 

Again this angry sea threatens to take from me any and all remaining sanity

 

To leave me lost and floating aimlessly across the expanses of my clearly pointless voyage

 

As I rock fore and aft with the rolling rise and fall of the ever growing swells

 

It dawns on me that I have become more than accustomed to the constant motion

 

In tumultuous storm or the tranquility of a gentle sea, I discover an inner calm

 

My reality is now as clear to me as the sunset in the distant oceanic horizon

 

This turmoil is not what drives me mad but rather gives me the balance I need

 

For me, without a stormy actuality there can be no true peace of mind or strength of spirit

 

The clouds part and the waters become still as this nautical realization comes to be

 

This ocean of uncertainty, this “Sea of Life” if you will, is exactly where I belong

 

Mother’s Tears

A single tear falls to rinse clean the land

Wash away the destruction by mankind’s hand

The time has arrived to acknowledge her pleas

As another tear drops to cleanse all her seas

 

Our protector of planetary perfection she cries

As our exquisite bestowal of residence dies

The direct consequence of oblivious neglect

Ripping open the skies with greenhouse effect

 

Earth is burned and blistered by a furious sun

Our population’s global desecration must be undone

Rivers, lakes, and oceans fill with caustic acid rain

We finally unite to end our magnificent mother’s pain

 

Now with eyes open wide to our home slowly dying

Once and for all put a stop to our dear lady’s crying

Live life anew in reverence of the place of our birth

Brings hope and mercy from our proud Mother Earth

The Widow Black

 

  A cold winter chill filled the air and brought with it the bitter reality of the frailty of human existence. It was a large gathering this day. All here to pay their respects to the family, and most especially to the tragically misfortunate young widow.

  It seemed like no time at all had passed since many of these very same people were joyously witnessing the joining of these two people in holy matrimony. After suffering the heartbreaking loss of two previous companions to the most unfortunate of accidents, surely this was going to be the match made in heaven. The proof that paradise exists and can be found here on earth. But earth is what stole her happiness from her before it seemed. For her two previous shining knights were taken away by the ocean, and the dizzying heights of a mountain cliff. And while there were those that said this was all too coincidental, just one look at this beautiful fate stricken young woman would tell you right away that she was nowhere near capable of harm. These were just horrific accidents to be sure.

  And now here they all were, unbelievably mourning the death of the third man to fall so deeply in love with this tragically cursed, love deprived young lady. Again, the man she chose was taken by earthly accident. A fatal fire while the fair maiden was away. So lucky she was not to have died by his side that fateful night. Was this some evil conspiracy to drive this poor woman insane? Is she meant to be alone until her dying day? Perhaps we will never know.

  Overwhelming sadness is felt for the loss of this man by all in attendance, but it is engulfed by the compassion felt for his love forsaken wife. For nobody should have to endure the loss of a spouse even once, let alone for a third time in such a young life. Surely she must be damned by some powerful Demon to realize such tragedy and loss to the power of three. The sorrow and empathy were thick in the air, and the emotion could be felt by all that were there. Such raw feeling and strength of concern for this poor youthful matron. Sympathy so strong for her that the funereal reality seemed eclipsed by the pity being expressed for the lady in black.

  As the funeral proceedings were coming to a close and all were done paying respects and consoling the widowed bride, a young man approached and shyly, quietly said “excuse me miss? I could not forgive myself if I did not pay my respects properly. My name is Walter. I knew your husband as a child and considered him a dear friend. My deepest sympathies to you for your loss”. With this the young woman seemingly began to gently weep under her dark veil. Noticing this, the man meekly spoke again, and with a tremble in his voice said “You seem in no shape to drive miss, might I give you a ride to your next destination?” To which she replied,  “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance  kind sir. I thank you for your generosity and concern. While I am flattered by your gesture, I have arranged for my transportation previously. But I do hope we will meet again soon, and under more pleasant circumstances?” And with that, the young widow in black turned to make her departure. As she slowly walked away, and with her veil still masking her face, no one could ever possibly notice the malevolent gleam in her eye or the wicked smile as it spread across her lips.

Death’s Bride

“Fear Itself”

A speech for the ages heard these words loudly read

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself” was boldly voiced

Reckless words spoken without true understanding

Made to seem as if said fear is all just in your head

“Fear itself” comes in many guises but brings only dread

 

Fear is eerily quiet and stealthily ever so cunning

It paralyzes the body and holds hostage the mind

Exceedingly clever, steadfast and eternally patient

As it lies silently in wait, your downfall forthcoming

Yes the power of “fear itself” is really quite stunning

 

It hides in the shadows to immerse you in icy pain

It burns hot like the sun as it preys on your weakness

Ignoring your strengths it plays tricks in your head

It’s power undeniable until all sanity has waned

 Abandoned rationality and hope are all that remain

 

The fight against fear is a persons battle of wills

The man who spoke that day knew not what he said

Fear is a force not to be discounted or mocked for effect

Or our blood will stain dark as certainly as it spills

Because the undeniable truth is that “fear itself” kills.