The Raven


when the raven calls at night
on the precipice of dreams and nightmares
do you succumb
relinquishing to darkness, one by one your foot steps
not adhering to the craggy ground
as you fall ever deeper into your singular mind

searching for an ending
tumbling ever forward, no ability to secure sanity
that once prevailed, clinging to the present
no doors for your escape
guessing what is real and what is not
overpowering bad considerations, scream loud
not to be defeated

bloodied scratching fingernails, asylum arms
grasping from all sides convincing you you're safe
"come with me", they whisper echoing in your ears
would it ever be ~ where is your sanctuary
are lines defined, the misinterpreted voices that you hear
cast fears aside, do not fall into the cavity

when the raven calls

©jmtacken Dec 2013

Photo Credit Pin Dark Forest Night Image on Pinterest

25th July DVerse – Lists – Fins or Horns

This poetic device is just what it says: a catalog or list of thing—an inventory of people, places, things, ideas. But it is no simple shopping list or to-do list, though I suppose it could be if a little thought and a dab of poetic creativity is added to the mix. It’s not just a simple one-two-three—rather, to be successful, it is a well thought-out, complex process.

Fins or Horns

Tails, nails, talons
fisherman -devils? water/fire
casting thoughts
line of fire
uncovered in light of day –
remember to remember the
night before – write it down
write a list you fool

what meaning has this
gnarled hooks metal/keratine?
invading silence in my slumber
plunging into darkness – hell
depths of blackened water – drowning
come up to breathe, exhale/inhale
fingernails/cepholopod mollusc
tentacles slithering

open eyes – awakening
but is it?
tales of fish/horns with tails
I shake my head pepper and salt
sprinkle on eggs
forgot the bacon on my list
intrusion in my head -meddling/trespass
stare out my window
wear a flame proof coat
or wellies and mac

I am not sure I have succeeded with the true definition of ‘Lists’ – but I gave it a shot.

For the brilliant DVerse ~ The Poet’s Pub – Please pop over and join in the fun and merriment.

Shades of inner hell

Rebecca Clare Smith’s Journal       Today’s Prompt! 
The following may be used as a sentence in your story OR provide a basis for it:- “miles to go before I sleep”    150 words.


Jacqueline’s struggle for peaceful nights continued.

Incoherent mornings stumbling over carpet fibres, disorientated.
Why was this happening?  She vaguely remembered the events of last night,

gathering the crumpled blankets around her, pounding her pillow to lay her weary head,  when she heard again the scream from within her.  The unexplainable

 presence, male voice, gravelly and offensive.
Her body raised, tossed about like a paper sailing boat on the sea, she had no control.
Arms flailing like a windmill, her mouth taut, opened wide emitting no sounds.

A nightmare? The guttural voice taunted, abused.

She felt unclean, touched.

This was real. How long would she suffer and why did he want her?

Her body and mind invaded, Jacqueline was exhausted, defeated and prayed for an end. Angrily she yelled to her intruder “I have miles to go before I sleep, I compel you, leave me or grant me eternal rest”.