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The Pond - a new poem
The Pond
(c) 2006 S.K. Back behind my grandma’s house, where the wild grass grows, There lies a pond, all inky black, which chills me to my bones. It bubbles and it gurgles but I cannot tell you why And when I gaze upon the pond time goes whizzing by. One day I stared into that tarn until the sun had set And that’s when something happened that I’m sure I’ll not forget. The buzzing of the dragonflies and croaking of the frogs Ended all at once as silence fell across the bog. Then a ripple shimmered on the surface of the pond And a rotten hand, ghostly white, reached up from beyond. It beckoned me into the depths, and helpless, I obeyed As water poured into my lungs and all my flesh decayed. Through the murky bracken I could see my captor’s face And screaming peels of bubbles, fell into its dark embrace. The one who pulled me under had a face that looked like mine He smiled and slipped away and from the water he did climb. Still lying on the bottom of that cold, black pond am I While the ghost imposter takes my place at grandma’s side. And if you should come wandering to my pond some summer’s eve I’ll pull you down and take your place and leave you trapped like me.
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"Little, vicious minds abound with anger and revenge, and are incapable of feeling the pleasure of forgiving their enemies." Earl of Chesterfield "A man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well." Francis Bacon |
#2
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Wow that's pretty awesome.
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#3
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Wow indeed, another great poem Rod, i felt this one had a sad feel to it, it's not the 'make you smile' kind of horror poem you usually write, i like it though, what inspired it?
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Don't mess with me or I'll rip your arms off and beat you to death with the soggy end DVD |
#4
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There was a tiny pond behind my grandmother's house in Blackwater, Mo. It was about 15 feet across and black as night.
You couldn't really tell where the lip of teh water started, because tall grass grew up out of the water. My big sister told me it was bottomless. I'd stare into it trying to penetrate the dark water with my eyes, but could never see a damn thing. That's when I thought maybe something is under there trying like hell to see me! It scared the shit out of me and still does. I wrote an entire screenplay with the pond in mind (even though its a La Llorna tale) so this location really had an effect on me.
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"Little, vicious minds abound with anger and revenge, and are incapable of feeling the pleasure of forgiving their enemies." Earl of Chesterfield "A man that studieth revenge keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well." Francis Bacon |
#5
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I never liked poetry very much, but i like yours. it isnt cheesy or overly lyrical (Haunted's was good too, i should mention)
Reminds me of a story i have had kicking around in my head about the small river that runs through my back yard. Kind of a cross between real life and The doom that came to sarnath by Lovecraft.
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Some misguided people decided I was funny enough to pay. See if they're right: http://www.cracked.com/members/Vodstok/ (I tweet pretty hardcore, too) |
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