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Short Measure for the Gabriel Hound Each time I read a cloud’s dark countenance or watch two crows stitch out a warning in the clear blue air, I can’t forget the Bradwell miners, bound for home without a lamp to guide them, night as heavy as the earth they’d toiled beneath all day. They heard the long grass stir. They stood dead still. A beam, sharp as a skinning knife shone from the moon down to the hill and carved the huge shape of a hound; a dog so quick they’d barely taken flight before they heard it bay and felt its harsh breath at their heels. They ran full speed with burning lungs until the dawn, until the daylight overtook them and they went, grim-faced, down to the mine to meet their certain fate. Remember them as you lie in bed, when the empty house has fallen still, and you stare through open curtains at a starless sky, imagine it’s a dog’s black flank that passes you, bound for somewhere else tonight. - Helen Mort. |
Gabriel's MY name! I feel special :D
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A b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z!
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Granite Sea Push open the massive iron gate Now tell me what you see Be forewarned the hours late As you travel the granite sea Walk across the rain soaked ground You feel of sudden gloom The granite waves are all around So many many tombs Smell the rain soaked flowers Which sit upon the grass Your body begins to cower As you hear a ghostly laugh Listen to the ghostly voices That's come from some where near You do not have many choices When your bodies gripped with fear Shiver as you hear them They call out your name All you can do is fear them Calling from the grave Wonder who is calling Calling you from where Your bravery quickly falling In terror and despair Think to your self it didn't happen You didn't hear that sound But you cant help your reaction As your heart begins to pound But now there is just one thing They think that you should know There's no reason for fearing So for now, you can go All they want to tell you Is that one day, here you'll be Like the many many waves In a cold, granite sea. - M.A. Tolli. |
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h y i s n obody posting in this thread? |
There isn't much can be said. I read all the poems and they're rather good but I didn't feel the need to put that in writing. I'm just looking forward to the BR III (hence my new signature. Notice the three dots have a double meaning? One because obviously the preds are usually in this thing and because it's the third one.)
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Oh, I thought we were trying to make this thread 15 pages long.
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Just face it. "facebook" killed everything. Most all online communities are dead or slowly dying. |
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Sorry...it's, it's facebook. It gets inside your head. |
The Touch Of Fear Have you ever felt the touch of fear On nights so all alone Sitting tensely in a spot Waiting for some ghastly moan To occur but silence coats the room You feel like something's waiting Just waiting in the gloom As I was walking down a street Through the broken slums To get somewhere a bit faster I began to hear some ugly hums Coming from a crumbled home Beat down by time's fist Where something horrific roams I didn't want to venture there But the sounds drew me in Where I saw something so evil Seeing it must be a sin Its face was a jumble of freakish teeth With a black tongue that slivered Over two blank white eyes beneath Then shrieks escaped its repulsive maw That sounded like some unholy music score Of tortured screams of people That it had eaten before Then the white eyes became alive And somehow forced me to stare At them, which made my stomach dive In those eyes I saw unbearable things Of men being ripped apart Of drinking of blood and eating of gore And that was just the start Then I was thrown into its jaws By some unknown force That felt like gnarled claws After much pain and ripping sounds I was cast into the cold Where I live breathing my last A lone and forgotten mold I think I know what gave me fright What killed and tortured I I think that fear itself murdered me tonight Now on nights all so alone Void of anybody but you You hear a sound and become afraid Don't deny it, it could be true It could be fear lurking around Waiting for you to dismiss it So it then can pounce without a sound. - Roger Bergeron. |
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You've failed the challenge
It's only six pages long Like the captain of your ship It's time to sing my swan song No tombstones to compose The battle royale is done Goodbye to the tournaments The end has begun Maybe in the future The forum will thrive But for now it's adieu I'm no longer alive |
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