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Tread cautiously the night
Of Jack O’ Lanterns
Enticing amber fingers
Lick through carved out eyes
The smile if that is
What you see
Beckons you closer
Watch from a distance the flame
She licks and dances
Enticing
Confined
Playing with your mind
Those who walk in costume
Are they really what they seem
What lies beneath
Who lies beneath
Do they perform her tasks
When nights umbrella
Hangs overhead
Crying for her workers
Silent to your ears
Watch them walk the street
Tread cautiously the night
For many have been lost
The night of Halloween
The flame will never be extinguished
Till all of us are gone

Copyright JMTacken Oct 2015

Arabian Sonnet – Here they lie

Arabian Sonnet

Basically it follows the Italian form, but because of the proximity of the two countries it’s not surprising there would be some influence. It has a rhyme scheme of;
a. a. a. a. . . b. b. b. b. . . c. c. c. . . d. d. d.

Strike of lightening on stormy night
tombstones stand, no living in sight
darkness, eeriness, that imparts fright
pray for the morning, wish for daylight
kneel down read the words carved on stone
remember the lives of those now alone
under the earth not skin only bone
listen as they cast a shivering moan
they want to be heard, be alive and not dead
not veiled under earth, watch where you tread
buried, alone, saddened tears we have shed
don’t cry for me, help me I want to be there
don’t leave I implore you, I want again to breathe air
don’t walk away, stay with me, I need more than your prayer

No Hero

Pitch black night
unilluminated
except one shaft 
that hit the stones
that I tread upon
from the otherwise
moonless and starless sky
 a window above
shadowy figures behind curtains
back and forth
and a curdling scream 
like milk gone sour
nightmares are made 
heinous crime in silence black
no one stirs
gets involved
certainly not I
I stand and watch and wait
what iniquitous deed took place
what tragedy
for screams to echo
what unlawful felony
scream in the dead of this night
to not awaken the hero in me
silence falls the curtains
motionless
the figure now alien from
the prey
no hero am I
walk silently by

 

ramblingsfromamum 28.12.2012

Words…..

I’m listening to Sarah McLachlan…& I am listening to Angel.

Music…songs & their words…bring out a different me….possibly hard to understand or for me to explain… but shall I say my emotions change, they heighten & I’m empowered to write simply by listening to lyrics…

My writing emerges from within me, sometimes I do not intentionally choose the words, or the scenarios…my words choose me...what ever wishes to materialise from somewhere inside my being…persuades me to write. I may not have a wide vocabulary nor be as eloquent as some other writers…but I am compelled none the less to do so..

Listening to Sarah at this moment in time

I picture rolling green hills & glistening blades of grass brushed by a sun shower, the suns rays reaching out to kiss the  world beneath from behind the slow rolling clouds…I picture white crested waves tumbling leisurely to the shore, stretching themselves out to reach the hot sands before rolling back onto themselves…I picture forests tall, as I walk upon crackling Autumn leaves beneath my feet, tall timbers being graced by the light of the sun caressing their canopy…I picture a new born foal unsteadily trying to stand to suckle from his mother…I picture an open fire, staring at the coloured flames, listening to the crackling of the wood as it relinquishes its fight against the fire that embraces it…I picture a new born being placed on her mother & to watch the tears that fall upon the mothers cheek as she gazes with intense love upon her perfect child…I picture rain drops settled against a frosted window pane slowly trickling downwards and breathing warm air upon the glass to draw pictures…I picture my parents tenderly holding hands or exchange a smile… I picture lying on a blanket on a warm summer evening and gazing above at an almost blackened sky that has come alive with stars…I picture my daughters when I sat in a dimly lit room on a rocking chair to feed them in the early hours of quiet still morning..their small hands grasping my fingers… watching their eyelids close from being sated with milk & a sweet sleepy smile..

so many things that music & lyrics bring me..

so I write not for acceptance…

I write because I am compelled to share my inner voice that can only be heard on paper…

no one can stop my love of writing, no one can stop what is so much a part of me..

& if perhaps my writing may touch a life…

with laughter…a smile…or perhaps even a tear..

that is the only recognition I as a writer need…