Poetry

Last Humans Left

For the very first time, we learned how to walk
For the very first time, we learned how to talk
Met our strong and silent cousins late
Leaving us too soon was ultimately their fate
Left alone in the dark and lonely night
Made us desire to create perpetual light
Left alone in the world without our kin
Left to face the cold, we covered our skin
We look to the stars, and hope
Searching intently through that scope
For its still dark, and we are lonely
And we are the last humans left

 

‘Last Humans Left’ is a poem from the perspective of a human (duh) who is lamenting the deaths of their ‘cousins’ soon after they met. This is meant to allude to the Neanderthals, ‘strong and silent’, who died off not long after first making contact with Homo Sapiens (us). The speaker portrays the loneliness the human race feels as a result of this fact and their desire to find intelligent life elsewhere so as not to be alone anymore.

© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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Poetry

Cider Country

Picking apples was his vocation
Pressed into cider and sold across the nation
Hundreds of trees, all but one planted before his time
One that’s since grown too tall to climb
A head above the rest, stood the young and mighty tree
Causing strife for the picker and his knobbly knees

The secret of its growth hidden below
Too deep to be picked at by the circling crows
Entangled by the hungry roots, lies the pickers wife
She found apples too bitter, and so he took her life

 

‘Cider Country’ is a poem about a passionate apple picker whose family have been picking at the orchard for generations, who we find out killed his wife in a rage because she was critical about the bitterness of one of the apples. An attempt at some dark humour in this poem with the absurd motivation and the bluntness with which the murder is revealed.

© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Poetry

Moon Bound & Whitechapel

Moon Bound
A slave, chained and bound by the moon
Bringing forth an evil that’d make the Devil swoon
My bones shattered, skin teared and muscles shredded
Transformed into the beast every soul dreaded
Whitechapel
Sitting in Whitechapel,
Contently cleaning my scalpel.
A busy night’s work,
Has brought forth a gentle smirk.
A kidney, fresh cut and fried
And my funny little games to keep me satisfied.

‘Moon Bound’ and ‘Whitechapel’ are two short poems that make up my attempt at doing some poetry for the Halloween season. ‘Moon Bound’ is about a werewolf going through the painful transformation process. ‘Whitechapel’ is from the perspective of Jack the Ripper having arrived home after committing another murder in Whitechapel. “my funny little games’ was taken from the ‘Dear Boss’ letter that claimed to be written by Jack the Ripper.

© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Poetry

Lonely Hunt

Alone in the forest, breath frozen in my chest
Treading the dark wood, a night without rest
Stopped in my tracks, eye to eye with my prey
Both knowing that only one shall walk away

 

‘Lonely Hunt’ is a short poem from the perspective of a hunter, I tried to create a sense of unease and danger in the poem. I didn’t want it to be certain that the hunter will be the one to make it out alive.
© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Poetry

The Faithful

Drew sword against my brethren, at Heavens behest
Told we were righteous for defending the blessed
Protecting paradise, an act most holy
Cutting their wings seemed most lowly
Defending the divine offered little repose
As my brethren were cast aside and without mercy deposed
Lucifer betrayed us, and them most of all
Telling false prophecies, beguiling them to fall
Into my soul, the horrors deeply bore
Harrowed by the revelation it should happen once more

 

‘The Faithful’ is a poem from the perspective of one of the angels that remained faithful to Heaven throughout Lucifer’s rebellion. I thought it would be interesting to show the inner conflict the angel feels about fighting the war and how even a just cause has its horrors.

© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Poetry

The Fallen

Against Paradise, Against our Maker
Aligned with the Morningstar, with the ‘traitor’
Against the Divine, Against all we knew
Heard were Samael’s words, and our numbers grew
With every impassioned word, our defiance swelled
Side by side with the Dragon, we rebelled
Doomed to fail, but fought all the same
With the Serpent we declared, “We shall not be tamed!”
Fallen from grace in the realm of torment
In the jaws of hades, with aggrieved lament
Patiently waiting, for our time to revel
Waiting to once again take up arms with the Devil.

 

‘The Fallen’ is a poem from the perspective of one of the fallen angels that followed Lucifer in his rebellion against Heaven. I decided I didn’t want to portray the rebellion or Lucifer as evil due to the fact that the poem is from the perspective of  an angel that followed Lucifer and so wouldn’t see their rebellion as an evil act.

© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0

Poetry

Going to State

“Going to State!” he would proudly boast
A life of luxury and speeding down the coast
Impulsive, wild and enjoying the gifts of youth
Left scattered on asphalt was a girl named Ruth

An uncouth mind, restrained and locked
Decades of grey calmed and ceased all talk
Alone with the bars, he soon called his friends
Given his freedom, but it felt like the end

 

‘Going to State’ is about a reckless young athlete who inadvertently causes the death of a  girl named Ruth, and how he went to prison and became institutionalized. The whole poem basically serves as a cautionary tale.

© 2018
Photo via Pixabay CC0