The Freedom to Live

Her life had overturned, become a sort of hell;
The devil lost her soul, but sought her mind to claim.
Once happy, now ensnared inside a secret cell,
Played by her tormenter as if it were a game.

HAIKU: CHEATERS AND LIARS

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Cheaters And Liars

TAUNTING MEMORIES

By Cara Reeva and Charles Robert Lindholm 

 

how can my soul be so bonded to you
like the lyrics to the music my mind keeps playing
and my heart hold such love for you
inspiring every word I’m saying

Ghosts

Duvet deep, traitor mind fishing worries
What if, why, random fears and wretchedness

Midnight Archer

.

Luring Zephyr of Silver Nighttide,

Glistening upon the bare Silken Road

From which my Musings extend

To Wander,

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Transitory Pall

As the Hours of the Velvet Night Fall,
Like the Delicately Singing Enigmatic Call;
Touch as light as the Transitory Pall,

awake, Haiku

harsh thoughts exploding

strong winds knocking on the mind

the silence is rare

Mr. Past

Mr. Past comes after midnight

bringing with him a bag

a bag full of sadness

why always at night?

why not during the day?

so i could look inside his eyes

say “leave me alone, i don’t need the old stuff”

Stavros of Minsk – Fornyrðislag – September 27, 2014

Stavros of Minsk

In slumber slipping – one dark autumn night,
Downwards nigh the rose arbour I walked.

Ardent lovers dreamily a-waltzing – in angst stopped stunned as I entered,
Yet the dulcimer player wailed on with his dismal sonata.

Disguised As A Dream

That slow burn as we wait
While the darkness bruises the sun
I only feel you with and against me
As the clock begins to run

-10.09.13_14:23-

Sinews crack
Feet shuffling
As half rotted hands
Reach out,
Relentless pursuit
Among familiar surroundings,

Nightmare

Born, innocently enough,

In the full, clear light of day –

As simple mischiefs often are –

As sunset-shadows grew long,

It started to go a little bit wrong.

Nightmare

Copyright © 070513 by Karen Payze

I feel your

Ice

Cold

Fingers

Creeping up my spine
Stealing away my night

The nightmare.

For poetry challenge 2

Harsh the sound of your voice as in fear you called our in the dark

I remember it now as clear as if it were a morning Lark.

I rush blindly to your aid stubbing my toe on the camp you and your brothers had made.

Here my sweet don’t cry so, I am here now and nothing can hurt you while I am with you, you know.