Dream from the Dying Ember

 Spirits arose from the crimson glow of the pit,

illuminated by the hell beneath and the moon above.

Bat screech maledictions underlay the charcoal crackles,

permeating the phosphorescing skeletal branches

of the forsaken woods,

 

dry, rusty death covering its floor. The witches

slept, their cauldrons long removed from Hades’ flames,

their enchantments continued to echo into the darkness,

awaking crows from their dreams of rotting flesh,

forcing the flies to concede their struggle with the web,

and devouring the king spider by his own miserable appetites.

 

Murder and starvation rang throughout the wilderness

as the sullen wolf howls unheard lamentations

among the unscathed corpses of the pack choked

 

out by the phantoms of the night. The curse

spread like a plague through the morbid forest

leaving few to tell the tale

when morning’s light finally fell upon the ashen,

smoke-scented cemetery.

***

(Minneapolis, MN -- December, 2017)

More spooky, surrealist angst depicting the ghosts left behind by a wildfire.

Blood Wedding

 The Moon and Death conspire

In the foggy, damp forest

 

As Honor and Passion

Fill the thirsty riverbed with a sanguine current

In the name of a conflicted lover.

 

Pan cries out and the nymphs howl,

Shaking leaves from their branches

Like the first winter morn

 

When the dew on the grass

Becomes frost on the stone.

 

Blood and Fire battle in the heart of Young Beauty,

A demon in the souls of these beasts,

Bringing forth murderous instinct.

 

After the storm, the tears,

the tragedy of the night,

Apollo returns in his chariot,

And sees the world unchanged.

***

(Minneapolis, MN -- November, 2017)

This poem was a continuation of my experimentation with exotic and provocative imagery. This was also inspired by the play Bodas de Sangre by Federico Garcia Lorca, which uses similar personification to depict an ill-fated love.