Tag Archive: love


Inspired by an ancient waymarker in a silent churchyard way up on Exmoor; a land that has so many tales to tell, if only it could…..

A solitary waymarker stands tall, marking the boundary of the graveyard; a tick upon the land. No blood, no sign of any struggle, not now.

A girl long ago cruelly hunted down and burned, leaving no trace; just ashes, dust scattered to the winds on that wild and desolate moor, where these days only the wind howls to the moon.

Not for the likes of her sweet and loving soul, the serenity of a consecrated graveyard. Not for the likes of her the dignity of remembrance. Not for the likes of her an epitaph carved lovingly in stone; only the winds and rain to wash away all traces.

All she did was to fall in love, to surrender her heart and soul to the one who loved her back.  All she did was fall in love wildly with a passion of her being way beyond her years. All she did was fall in love with a dark and wild immortal with the wind in his hair and the moon in his eyes. All she did was to allow him to love her back.

All she did was to kiss him on that wet and stormy night in that dark, desolate graveyard way up there upon the moors. It was all she did, one kiss, one passionate and rain-soaked kiss.  It was all she did, she fell in love with the immortal with the wind in his hair.

Some nights when wandering up there on the wild moors, one can almost catch the movement of shadows out of the corner of one’s eyes. One can almost hear the rustling of wet leaves and the sound of damp footsteps running frantically through the graveyard.

One can almost imagine in the darkness, the waymarker with the sturdy gorse bush still growing at its foot after all these years, on an otherwise dry patch of lifeless earth where nothing else will ever grow. And if one was to imagine sinking down upon one’s hands and knees under the waymarker, one can almost see the rivulets of blood running forth onto wet saturated garments in the rain; up there on the moors.

And some nights when the moon is round and the air is dry it is not hard to imaging a lonely cloaked figure under the waymarker scraping away at the parched black earth where nothing lives. One could almost imagine a figure with the wind in his hair, uncovering an old and crumbling piece of wood tossed away in haste by those who feared a vengeful god and who had time and guilt on their hands; a simple weapon that had long ago pierced his lover’s trusting heart.

One could almost imagine
Almost
Whilst up there on the moors….

marker.png 3

Exmore 1

Adueni ‘Keeper of Scrolls’

May 2016

Love and Light

But there is always another side to everything…..

 

I heard the wind whispering.

I felt the cool breeze in my hair.

I saw the Star and followed.

I heard the eternal voice of the one who loves me.

If I leave no trace upon this land

I know her sweet laughter will forever guide me home

To the place where I belong.

The winter’s chill and the long dark nights are no more.

The forgotten shadows fade

And the Light within reveals the true beauty of Life.

I shall fear not the unknowing

I shall fear not life

I embrace all;

My cherished journey.

The Light beckons me on this night

And I am led towards G.O.D. by her loving hand.

 

for-fb-30

 

  Written Yule 2010

“The Keeper of Scrolls”

Dec 2016

 

 

 

Reflections….

 

It wasn’t the shadows in the woods that haunted me most

It was the ones in your eyes

It wasn’t the wind screeching through the bare boughs that bought me deathly chills

It was your terrified scream

It wasn’t the track through the forest frantically leading nowhere

It was your footsteps running… running…

It wasn’t the lake still and beautiful on that moonless night

It was your body; still beautiful in the water

It wasn’t the single red bloom that fluttered silently out of nowhere to rest upon your breast

It was the single drop of red blood

It wasn’t my hands loving and tender

It was the white of my knuckles grasping the bloodied knife…

 

primeval-waters-2014-1

November 2016

Photography – me

Keeper of Scrolls

(A Gothic inspired poem in the style of Poe’s ‘The Raven’)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Upon a lost love gone for years; upon a life lost too;

I search in vain for evermore.

Why so young an Angel taken?

Why so young a life forsaken?

Suddenly snatched from mortal realm

With ne’er a chance to say goodbye

With ne’er a chance to wipe my tear

That fell upon my cheek so soft

And so I pondered long and lonely, feeling weary seeking solace

To quest his long lost resting place; I quest for evermore.

A place I knew ere in my dreams,

For never in my waking hours his sad tomb could I see.

That churchyard old and dark I saw;

In daytime nothing stirred at all.

Why in my dreams and not on earth

I pleaded every night whilst there.

In dreams of night his name I call

Through deaths dark door he whispers mine.

I wander long, alone and teary, vainly searching, vainly seeking

For that which I am so unsure;

I search for evermore.

A tomb maybe, a gravestone marked; a spot upon some barren ground?

In death and dreams he calls me home

My name he calls upon the winds;

In waking hours my torment thrives, fed on my wretched life.

My dreams are that which take my soul

To black tormented realms of pleasure.

Oh death, oh lover why taunt me so?

I beg you leave my dreams alone

Yet take me home with thee.

For in this world I cannot live

Yet can not die in yours.

Sweet freedom free me from this curse

Of searching lost and lonely

For a love lost in the realms of men.

In my dreams his tomb I find

In churchyard dark and dank and dreary.

And so upon a midnight weary I wander in that graveyard dreary

In deaths dark realm for evermore…..

 

for-poem

Poem and Photo Adueni 2016

 Vampiric Haiku

 “Let not the light of day betray the real love that rules the world”

 

When years matter not

And seasons slip by unseen

Then my love I live

dsc04833-1

 

To find another

Of bloodline true and race pure

Tis an old one’s dream

On these shores I dream

Of days gone by and feasts past

And living embraced

fg-1-1

 

The purest of gifts

Is offered, so drink my love

Two souls bound as one

dsc06208-1

 

On the plane of life

I exist in mortal form

Yearning still for Light

fg-10-1

 

In dying embers

Whispers of scarlet kisses

Bleed upon the land

seal-6-3

 

 

When no shadows cast

And night and day become one

Wait and I shall come

nic-2-2

When shadows of time

Creep through the fields of your mind

You will know my kiss

seal-1-1

Weaving webs of night

My dream becomes your nightmare

Night and day as one

dsc06446-2

Freedom i will give

Truths i shall gladly teach thee

Nothing though comes free…

imgp0144-1

September 2016

party

The plain black envelope lay on the floor in the hallway; it had lain there all day undisturbed. Without a shadow of a doubt I knew who had sent it and yet I was still unable to open it. My mind was racing and my heart was thumping. I felt scared yet elated but why now, especially after the events of this particular evening? My actions, dormant for so long had once again taken me way outside of society’s norms and right back into a place beyond normal comprehension.

Still starring at the envelope, I recognized at once the familiar shiny black wax seal. It was definitely his seal, his sigil. Only an elite and chosen few had ever actually seen it for real, had ever been privy to knowing. I tentively picked up the envelope as I made my way into the tiny kitchen to make a much needed coffee. My heart thumping in my mouth I placed the envelope on the kitchen table and put the kettle on.

Trying to keep calm and acting as normal as I could; I ushered my ‘new companion’ into the sitting room and went back into the kitchen, thinking… It had been years since I had seen ‘him’ and yet I always knew we were destined to meet again one day, for one last time.

The kettle boiled.  I rinsed out the cafetiere with the hot bubbling water before spooning in the very special dark coffee blend which I so loved. When filled with hot water I took the steaming cafetiere over to the table, I fetched two pretty china cups (I have always hated coffee in a mug) and sat down for a moment and simply stared.

I plunged the plunger of the cafetiere down into the dark, steamy liquid. Was it my imagination or did something plunge into my heart too? What ever it was, my heart was most certainly pounding. Pouring out the coffee and sipping the dark deliciousness before me, I reached out and touched the black envelope. But suddenly shuddering I put the envelope back down on the table while I drank my coffee… I had forgotten my ‘companion’ waiting all alone on my old comfy sofa; I offered him coffee in a cup, but my mind was racing; buzzing, was elsewhere…

 I never fitted in, ever. Even before….

Thoughts now raced inside my head, my brain throwing up those feelings and memories of earlier times; long ago memories, it all came flooding back. A rusty old key in my Pandora’s Box of a head had been turned….

I had never found my place within so called society. I never played the game, even all those years ago before it happened. I was always a threshold walker lurking on the fringes of society pretending to belong; pretending to be human. Even way back in those distant times, in my early adult days when I was still one hundred percent human, I could still not find it within myself to fit in. Oh I tried, I tried to fit in, tried so hard to belong. Yet being a part of the human race never really cut it for me. I knew they mocked me from afar; my peers, some even to my face. All my contempories thought the same way; they despised me for daring to be different in an age when conformity was everything, when women were supposed to know their place.

I did try and play their silly games, I pretended for quite a while; pretended to belong. Pretended time and time again to walk the corridors of the mundane and thus I appeared to become whom they wanted me to be. It took its toll on me though, I was so naïve in those far away days and yet was still desperately longing, even way back then for I knew not what. I was unhappy, frustrated and sick of my life and my so called privileged upbringing. My calling then was always of a different kind

My so called given destiny as a ‘lady’ was in the Court of the then King, whom too had terribly lost his way; but that’s another different tale entirely. How could I play these games, be used and curtail to a King who used his misplaced power in such a way? Longing for a male heir he disregarded the women who were born to please him, they all became carrion of his quest; his Queens. I viewed all this in silence; the deaths, the beheadings, the betrayals, always as an outsider lurking even then, on the fringes of courtly society, safe on the edges, secure in the shadows. Yet always with eyes wide open.

However I often sought solace and kinship amongst the noble and brave knights of the court, both on and off duty.  From an early age I had been trained in the skills of a healer and herbalist which was something that thankfully took me out of the mundane day to day confines and rules of the court and I would often find myself tending to the needs of the knights. At first they did not notice me, apart from having a need of my skills as a healer but over time I earned their trust and became a confidant and friend. They seemed to know the true ways of the world and knew and hinted of unspoken things that I did not fully understand.

One knight in particular caught my eye, though he hardly ever spoke to me and certainly did not notice me, or so I thought. But there was ‘something’ about him; his eyes burned bright with an iridescent inner fire and even when alone in my quarters I often sensed those piercing, penetrating eyes burning into my back. He always seemed to be somehow older and wiser than the rest, maybe from wisdom and knowledge gained on his vast travels and experiences of the world.

 My own yearning and quest for knowledge would regularly take me out into the shadows of night-time, outside of the safety net of the court and away from the knights. I was free-falling. I would don men’s attire and slip out while the court slept, returning before sunrise. Each night I crept stealthily along disgusting dank, dark alleyways where rats scuttled as I walked by. I would wander alone seeking out other like minded creatures. Souls who thought like me. I would frequent taverns and would drink warm ale aside a bright glowing fire, talking hours on end to seamen and travellers, listening intently to the songs of minstrels passing through. Wanting I knew not what. Always searching, always seeking, always listening, until one night. Was it fate? Destiny? Or just chance?

I met whom I thought to be another traveller from a land afar;  he was dressed in colourful flowing robes. Dressed in a way not of these lands, his face mostly covered yet there was something very familiar about him even though I could not see his actual face. We talked and he told me tales of a land unknown to me; his land, his homeland. A land of forgotten forests, of dark mists and mysteries, of castles where old souls resided; souls who never saw the light of day. And of Alchemy and Magic and he held me spellbound with his tellings.

Little by little he entered my soul; I became beholden by him and one night as I looked into his shaded eyes, he lifted my hand to plant a gentle kiss upon and in that instant I knew, I recognised those half hidden eyes, those fiery piercing eyes; those very same eyes that I had looked into so many times back at the Court.  Nothing in this life is unplanned or happens by chance and in that moment I knew it for sure. I knew my destiny and I had finally met…

He told me tales of the Old Ones, the immortals who trod the earthly plane unseen, for it was they he said, who kept Guardianship upon the Earth; it was they who kept the secrets, it was they who really wove the affairs of man. Silently and secretly they trod the Earth, never leaving a clue. I was enthralled by his tales. And by him. Was he one of them; was he an Old One too, I wondered?

We would meet several times a week in that dark little back room away from the rest of the tavern; that dark smoky little room that smelt of stale food, musty drapes and unwashed bodies. Far away from the rest of the Court. My heart would beat six to the dozen when he spoke..

Just as it is doing now looking at that envelope…

He promised to one day take me back with him, to that mysterious land. That land that somehow I could never quite locate on the maps of time and yet I could never deny its reality either. Little by little he shared his existence with me and of whom he really was and yet like all good and true tales, talking is never ever enough. There comes a point in time when the talking has to end. Desire and passion can suddenly move a story on in a way no one can ever predict. Illusions are shattered or intensified by just one sweet kiss; one sweet tormented seductive kiss from a man with the Blood Rose on his lips.

All dreams and desires woven innocently in the daylight are forever torn to threads in the nightly hours. In one moment of a dark and silent embrace, life changes forever… Yet I allowed it to happen, craved it to happen. My future life as a human burned on the funeral pyre of immortality. And thus so it was; that was my time, my making, my raising, my becoming. The doors of my new world beckoned and I walked on through…

And so we left the safety net of the Court. For all the faults of courtly life it did hold us tight to its bosom and provide a cloak of normality that clothed us in a comforting glamour. The journey back to his world was long and ardarous. We employed many different forms of transport and help from many kind locals along the way. Always travelling at night we passed through lands I only ever dreamt of previously. I was still weak though and had not yet grown fully into my new persona, but as we travelled he taught me; showed me how to be me. He passed on all he knew as he guided me towards my destiny. And he taught me the Ways of the Blood; so that I too could live within the world of man; seen yet unseen, kKnown but not known. He taught me how to be gentle and that I need not kill to survive. He showed me how to gain the trust of humans and that if I was very patient they would offer willingly the sweetest of all gifts. And so it was,  growing stronger everyday, we arrived together at his family home

Half castle, half cave, half hidden in an imposing cliff face that overshadowed a vast leafy gorge. And it was well hidden for I could hardly see it until we were almost upon it.  When I looked more closely; it was not really a castle at all but just castle-like, formed out of the rock face and which in a certain light disappeared right back into it again. The décor inside his home was very sparse, though what was there was very well chosen and of the highest quality. There were artefacts obtained from many places, all over the earth, from different centuries even yet they seemed unloved, uncherished; almost as trophies. In hind sight, looking back now, I realise that some of his treasures were long lost from the world of man and some had even gained mythical status as never really having existed at all yet here they were. I wondered how he had obtained such items, many of which were holy, sacred items associated with biblical times. They all looked new.

No light entered our world for we were indeed well hidden underground, many of the rooms, if you could call them that, having no windows or doors to the outside world. We lived in peace. In seclusion and in darkness. We did make love and it was wonderful yet it almost secondary at that point in time to the real passion; the real fire that mapped our lives and that which would guide us through the centuries

Outside the cold walls of our fortress I knew that other creatures survived. Wolves in particular, who would hunt in packs and were very good at it; very good at devouring every morsel of their prey, leaving no trace. They always seemed to know when they would be welcomed at the castle; teaching us the lessons of the hunt they lived among us. We however did not always play by the rules. Passion and desire and an instinct that had to be released from time to time did take over now and again and the wolves saw to it that no trace of our dinning ever met the morning sun. But our ‘prey’ needed to be wined and dined and softened up beforehand. And worst of all we had to be nice to them!  And as our broken rules went unseen in the world, time came and went and together we noticed nothing; safe and secure in a world of our making

Yet nothing stays the same for ever and while we ‘slept’ the world changed; wars raged, the Great War raged and raged again. The Cold War raged, modes of travel changed, communication changed, man even went into so called space. There was no longer any place in the world for a forgotten forest and as humanity closed in on us, as we always new it would, it became evident that it was time to move on once more. Time to go our separate ways; for our kind, our kin still had great work to complete in the modern world. Would we ever even meet again? Who knew? We did not. He had taught me well. I knew how to survive on my own now, in this modern world of mankind; i knew I had great works to fulfill. We could no longer survive as a pair, that i did know; the world had become wise, had shrunk and was far too dangerous now. Our world; our cushion of comfort could be hidden no more

The bitter sweetness of our goodbye when it inevitably came was overwhelming and tore me apart. I was his child of darkness, he was my father, my sweet Knight, my lover. We were bound in blood yet would always know the safety of the other and yet the demise also; our hearts now beat as one. And yet on that never to be forgotten damp grey day outside those castle walls our destinies moved us in opposite directions.

And so it was that I thus disappeared alone into the world. I became a spectre. I hid all that I was from this new world and I played their game. My true identity gone for I had other affairs to look after now. I could weave the webs myself now, i would change history, i would be the puppet master behind the puppets. I would guide destiny in the way that the Old Ones desired. My hand was indeed the hand of fate that tormented humanity.

Over the years, into the twentieth and twenty first centuries it was so easy to leave my mark; easy to see where I had been. Though of course, you had to know, to know. Skirmishes, uprisings, freedom fighting, discontent, wars raging between nations, world agitation on a vast scale, famines, deaths; that was all so me. There were a few time when I thought our paths almost crossed, mine and his, my Knight. For he left his mark too; a forest inferno, a blown volcano, vast earthquakes that caused so much havoc, death, destruction, tsunamis and chaos, and I knew, I just knew how much fun he was having with the global warming thing – so him. Whatever you may think my friends we were simply trying to awaken the world. Trying to get them to see the error of their ways before it was too late; to wake them up with a bang. But in my heart; my fear was that it was already too late. Far too late, for no one cared anymore, no one listened and no one saw the error of their ways. And so the years rolled on and eventually, I kind of withdrew from the world completely. And my love? He totally vanished too. No trace. No clues for years; it was too quiet, something was missing. Everything had become too easy and a certain kind of dangerous normality set in; a normality of death, chaos and destruction.

 I had held my carnal urges totally in check for years for fear of discovery. was living a half life; until now; until that night; this night when I caught the eye of one very handsome young man. Totally by chance. I had decided it was time to be on the move again; to move to a different city under cover of darkness leaving all traces of my recent past right where they belonged, in another lifetime. Move on, re-invent myself. I was even thinking of maybe a bit of world travel again, maybe even a bit of old time fun; ah bring back the old times or try anyway. Maybe even give humanity one last chance, one final stupendous curtain call to at last awaken them all. I was having fun just thinking about it.

So here I was sitting in this little late night coffee shop just one turn off the main street and three turns from my cosy little flat, just starring into my cup of dark black coffee. Pondering on my future, making my plans oblivious to all around me; sitting, stirring, starring. Then out of the blue and waking me right up from my thoughts he sat down opposite me…

My eternal spirit, which I had to admit, had started to falter a bit lately, skipped a merry beat I can tell you and tonight I knew I could stand it no longer. My preternal nature, dormant for so long was once again taking hold, was mapping my destiny and giving me a nudge. It had been such a long, long time and he was so beautiful, trouble was he knew it so I played him along. Easy. I could glamour him and be anything he wanted me to be, such a beauty and putty in my hands. After so long denying I needed to savour; needed a saviour to rescue me from the world and the rut I had fallen into. I had worked so hard over the years and needed to taste the sweetness of all that had been forgotten. Once again I was ready. Let’s not beat around the bush; waiting upon that darksome compelling threshold in that little coffee shop, i knew there was going to be a culling tonight and nothing would ever be the same again; well not for him. Sadly, though happily for me, he was so up himself that he failed to notice the source of my desire, my passion and my true need. For me it was survival and renewal pure and simple and a re-acknowledgement of whom I really was. A long submerged truth was re-surfacing; was re-awakening, a rebirth of something that I had held latent for oh so long. And now my heart was beating so fast that I feared it would take flight and soar from my very chest.

I was reminded of the early days so long ago when I first encountered my own beautiful maker. I knew that if he did ever contacted me again it would be for very good reasons; the reasons of which at this time, I hardly dared to think about. We had made that pact, all those years ago before, before we had even parted, and we had signed it in our own blood. To bind, to hold, forever as one. Yet somehow as the years went by, after we parted and he had vanished from my life and thoughts, and even as i knew he would, from the world at large,  time and tide took hold and dust settled upon my eyelids and the importance of our pact seemed to fade from me into distant memory. And so the centuries went by, until now that is…

So what to do I wondered? I will invite him, this eager, handsome stranger, home for a nightcap, take a bath and think about it. Ponder on it. Then decide what to do with him. Although deep down I knew I was only fooling myself, was just prolonging the inevitable.  But events as they always do, took an unexpected turn, call it a twist of fate if you will, but here I was trying to drink this coffee with the mysterious, unopened envelope in front of me and my stranger, albeit delicious stranger, now falling asleep on my couch.

I never the less took a very deep breath and went upstairs, threw off all my clothes and ran a very hot scented bath and slowely breathed in the aroma of beautiful frankincense, that usually did the trick. I was tense and feeling very apprehensive now; he was waiting downstairs, sleepy but expectantly.  I now had a heightened sense of anticipation and perception of everything around me. My usually blissful bath seemed like a minefield of unanswered questions; all just waiting to explode in my face with the perfumed bubbles. I tried to relax, yet all I could see in my minds eye, was that old rucksack; the tatty old rucksack that had remained hidden in my closet for years waiting for the right time; the right signal. A mysterious black envelope in fact.

If I never opened it, the envelope, would it still be true? Would the inevitable still happen? Would ‘he’ do it all on his own? Was the pact indeed still binding?  I emptied the bath water. I climbed out of the bath and donned my fluffy purple bathrobe and with that special bath time glow all around me I went downstairs. I entered into the sitting room and ignoring my now slumbering guest, i lit the candles. No electrics; just candles. The warm flickering glow looked amazing and I felt suddenly more relaxed and open to all that life may throw at me. I walked back into the kitchen and picked up the envelope. I was suddenly aware for the first time of the very musty, pungent aroma that seemed to be emanating from it. It smelt of dank, dark places and of worlds untrodden or undiscovered by mankind. It smelt of his world; our world. It smelt of that long ago castle. But also it smelt of that little back room behind the tavern where we had met all those many, many centuries ago. I wondered if this was deliberate; planned by him? For the longer I held the envelope in my hand, the stronger the aroma became.

There was a heat manifesting from it too which was becoming unbearable to my hands. I sat down quickly on the floor of my sitting room and watched in amazement as the wax seal, ‘his’ seal, melted spontaneously before my eyes. Oh what a good trick indeed, I thought. You always were so very good at an effect or two. Yet before I had had time to see these thoughts completely through, the envelope spontaneously burst into flames in my now increasingly warm hands. Quickly I threw the whole burning envelope into the nearest candle base, just before my carpet could catch light. However as quickly as it had started the fire was out, gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. All that was left in my glass candle dish was a white, delicately black edged card; an invitation in fact.

It was as if he knew I would not open it straight away. As if he knew, all these centuries later that I would hesitate, so he had solved the problem for me. From somewhere, a very long way away I felt him grin. Yet also he had provided me with so much more. I took a deep breath, picked up the invitation and sat down once again in the middle of my sitting room floor. I looked hard at the card in my hand but there was nothing on it. Well nothing that even my eyes could see; Just an embossed black line all around the edge. Now what I thought?  He certainly wasn’t making this easy for me. Maybe heat it again, as that seemed to be his thing? But no that was far too obvious, maybe water then I wondered?  I went into the kitchen and filled a small bowl with cold water and bought it back into the sitting room. I once more seated myself on the floor; candles all around and the cool, clear water in the middle in front of me. Quick as a flash I dipped the card in and out of the water and laid it on the floor in front of me. I stared in disbelief as words began to appear before me on the card. As if by magic I thought, but then magic was certainly his thing too. And dam it, beguilement and he was beguiling me now, just as he had all those centuries before. I could scarcely breathe.  The words appeared as thus and I read them out loud as they appeared:

 invite

 It was signed in blood; of course it was. But yet it was signed in ‘our’ blood; the blood that was still binding and still, after all these years, held our pact within its ruby red secrets. So this was it then? The end game had finally come; the fall of mankind. Fate and destiny merging into one. All the relevant planets in alignment stacking up like giant bowling balls racing towards the final score and yet one extra one at the helm….

Yet why was he calling himself Lucifer again I wondered? I had known him by another name for years. Immediately I had this thought, i could see him in my minds eyes signing the invitation with a mischievous wink in his eye, knowing that only I would ever know and grasp the final truth.  I glanced at the sleeping body on the couch. Oh sod it I thought; if not now then when? I reached over to the beautiful stranger and woke him just in time enough for him to realise what was about to happen before feeding deeply and irrevocally from his warm soft flesh. In his eyes bewilderment. In my eyes deep and utter joy…

 Refreshed and renewed I went upstairs and got dressed. Warm, stout winter clothes, practical clothes. No glamour this time for me, not for where I would be heading or for what I would be doing for this was another kind of party entirely; the party to end all parties. The party before the fall. I found my old battered fleece, zipped it up tightly and then went to the closet to drag out that old rucksack; the contents of which had been organized and waiting for nigh on several centuries, the actual bags had changed over the years but the contents had always been ready. I slung it casually over my shoulder as I went downstairs into the kitchen to gather nibbles and a couple of bottles of water. I switched off the lights and looked longingly at the last drained cup of fresh coffee that I would probably ever taste. Popping into the sitting room, I glanced unemotionally at the lifeless body on the couch, also drained, then picked up the invite and put it in my rucksack and the very last thing I did before leaving the flat was to extinguish all my candles. I took a very deep long breath. It had been an interesting evening I thought.

 I stood outside in the dark, on the kerb, the street lamp above me flickering slightly, just waiting in the darkness for I knew not what. But I guessed, when it happened, it would be something spectacular.  I waited nearly an hour or more yet it seemed like a life time standing alone on that dark, damp suburban street. My brain was starting to ask me what the hell was I doing, yet my heart was beating six to the dozen and my soul was just soaring. I stared down at my chunky black Doc Martins I was wearing grinning to myself as I pictured myself in my sparkly red killer heels; those very same killer heels that now lay tucked in at the very bottom of my old rucksack – a touch that would make him smile to say the very lest…

Then wham! From out of nowhere it came; a faint rumble at first like a distant thunder, then building up to a crescendo of an almighty ear-splitting roar. Totally majestic and wow what a statement; what a bloody fucking return! What sublime style! My darling Knight atop a magnificently souped up motor cycle! This louder than loud revved-up, pimped-up motorbike engine was totally and literally on fire! And what was more; it was racing towards me at break-neck speed silhouetted against the vast black night sky; engines at full throttle, flames racing out of the exhausts as it flew thought the beautiful nightime! It was certainly no earthly vehicle I gasped. It came screeching and sliding towards me and stopped very abruptly to a halt only inches away from me. Then silence…

As the black-leather clad figure who rode aloft this all black, shiny beast of a bike stylishly and with great panache turned off the engine. He so knew my tastes. He could have come wearing anything. As anyone. Yet all this was staged just for me. He coolly ever so slightly tilted his head and lifted his visor. Taking off his black gloves and smiling enigmatically; he looked straight at me; holding out a hand… Dam it and fuck it; I so loved him whatever he was calling himself or dressing up as these days.

 “Hey Babe, how about you and I rocking it up to the party of our lives; couldn’t do it without you kiddo.….”

 I clamoured on board quicker than i had ever done anything in my entire life before and held on to him so tightly that my arms could have snapped right off there and then. And indeed my heart was doing just that. This was the fate and destiny that had been foretold for centuries and I for one was not going to miss it. Fuck it world! You had your chance! The Lord and Lady are back! So lets party!

vampire

  August 2016

Always the blood…

My heart screams

Takes flight

I turn around somehow not quite missing the beat.

I run and run through the forest of my forgotten dreams

Only I have forgotten.

Forgotten you

And how you tasted

How you looked

And how you felt.

The trees here are tall and dark and barren

Yet they live like my heart

Fed on remorse and regret.

How many life times ago was it that I loved you?

How many hearts have beaten and ceased since those days?

How many mortals have lived and died in this realm with out actually living?

I am still running

Just ahead of times tick, tick, ticking.

Running always

For fear of standing still and remembering.

Constantly running in and out of ink-black shadows

Never stopping.

Running in forests where the screeches of startled ravens dissipate upon the winds.

Skin torn

Skin shed

Pain desired

Remembering.

Remembering I loved you

And the taste of ruby kisses so sweet and seductive.

Drip-fed by time’s unceasing march

I dissolve into the pools of my own sadness.

Keep running

Keep hiding

Seek shadows.

Slide into the oblivion of the unknowing

Where ravens cries are the only sounds that leave my lips

And the black blood of night

Is the only truth.

What is known can be unknown

Memories can be reversed

Just like time.

Go back

Back

Way beyond knowing

Way beyond unknowing

To a time of just being

To a time when the earth stood still

And all there was, was the Word

The truth

The all

The Love

The Blood

And You

 

 

 2016

Always of the blood…

Upon the crossroads; sparkling bright with pale moonlight time stands still

And the past is just a memory fading from view.

The witches of old tis said, merry met with the very devil himself,

Before he journeyed out in his chariot over the moon-bright fields.

The hounds of hell with red eyes shinning crossed over to the Otherworld here

And the longest day just goes on and on and on and the very sun itself is caught in a bright web of liminal space.

It is here sweet love I wait for thee, underneath the Ladies summer perfumed tree.

It is here at midnight I wait as the moon casts a shard of light to pierce my soul.

It is here I will wait and cast my spell in words of ancient tongue.

Here where only the convergence of the tides of time can enchant you to fall under my spell.

I hold my dagger to my heart, my hands steady, words flowing in this ancient tongue I know so well.

My sweet life force I offer thee as a token,

Will you accept?

Sweet force of power that you are, will you come?

Will you meet me upon this midsummer night?

In the distance two dancing hares, two moonlight sprites in the ripening fields.

The energies of the night are entering this realm, slipping through the veil of reality,

I see them, but will you come also?

My blood slowly drips upon the ground as I chant my words.

I light a single candle and offer my precious ruby gift to the flame, gently anointing my forehead.

I become the very gift you need but still will you come?

Will you require more?

What will it take on this midsummer night?

Oh sweet moon of mine, shineth down not upon my soul lest you see me laid bare

Revealed in moonlight upon the shores of time for whom and what I truly am;

Not mortal.

I crave my kin.

Come through the veil sweet love; sweet immortal darkling.

Cast your dark shadow upon my heart;

Leave me not abandoned and alone.

Still my blood drips upon the earth as the crossroads merge into my very being.

As the land becomes the sky

And time stands still

And the still is all.

As the past and future entwine together

I am a part of it as are you

And finally my eyes are clear.

My love I yearn to kiss thine lips upon the delicate rim of midnight

I die a thousand deaths yet live a thousand lifetimes waiting.

Yet you come not

I en-cradle the sweet dark flame of eternity that is forever you

To return next year

Or never….

 

Archangel_Raphael a

moonwillow July 2015

Into week two of this years challenge and finding this a very enjoyable experience; i am in some cases now following the promts as given on the NaPoWriMo website; but if not following as such then finding inspiration in them. There are lots of other wonderfull poetry to be found on the website below, along with numerous poetry writing tips and prompts:

http://www.napowrimo.net/about/

 

DAY EIGHT

It lay in my bloodied hand
The rose cut fresh
Slicing flesh

Velvet red and sensual
Deep scarlet blooms
Hiding the thorns

Blooms where yesterday
Tightly wrapped buds
Sought the sun

And tomorrow petals
Fall dead
Upon sacred ground

I remembered the kiss
That cursed
At dusk

I remember his perfume
I brush my face
With the scarlet

Hidden thorns strike
Brushing my lips
With blood

Memories bloom in shadow
Curses never leave
Unlike the crumpled rose

 

DAY NINE

I stole just one kiss
A dark kiss not mine to steal
Dam it was so good

 

DAY TEN

Running and running yet somehow not getting anywhere
I may be dreaming I thought; this is not real
How can it be and how did I get here?
And the ‘English Place Name’s I encountered
As I ran by seemed just so surreal; unreal
I was on a quest; that much I knew
Seeking ‘The Keys of Enoch’
But only ‘The Goddess of The Labyrinth’ could help me find them
Where was she?
So in I tumbled head-long into the labyrinth
In a rather Alice-like fashion
Yet not a white rabbit in sight
Just old tales, old myths that wove in and out of my mind
On a repeat loop within my head
Chivalry and Knights, of deeds fought and won
Of mystery and magic
Jousting for the hand of a mythical princess
‘The Legends of King Arthur and his Knights’
Spiralled in and out of my brain as I sought the centre
‘The Hero Myths and Legends of the British Isles’ were birthed at The centre of this labyrinth or so the story goes
But how would I get there to find that elusive key?
Or would it simply take ‘The Thousand and One Night’
That I was told it would
But suddenly I was whisked off my feet Dorothy-fashion
By a spiraling storm that plucked me from the centre of the Labyrinth just as I reached it
I held on in the storm as dark winds roared around me
And rain beat down upon my head
And then it stopped, ceased, silence
And I found myself in front of the fallen angel
In ‘Rosslyn and The Western Mystery Tradition’
Home again where I belonged
With heart and soul combined as one

 

DAY ELEVEN

Golden childhood days innocently spent on timeless Norfolk beaches
Sun shining twenty four seven or so it seemed looking back
The long endless summer days where dreams and adventures came to life
And everyday normal life came to a standstill
Summer by the sea yet only two weeks out of real time
But two weeks when time and tide ceased to exist
Bright coloured buckets and spades were all we needed
And an enthusiastic dad who knew all the castle building tricks
For our constructions were always the biggest and most complicated with the longest and deepest moat
Fed by sea water as we held our breath at each approaching wave
We took it seriously and made fantasy worlds amongst the sands
Where princesses, dragons and wizards peopled our minature worlds
At night we donned huge black rubber inner tubes to float dream-like on the warm whispering salty waves
Then kicked for life and for the shore when the sea floor sank away
Fun fairs and penny arcades were an evening delight
Donned in pretty cotton dresses, frilly petticoats and clean white socks
A far cry from the day attire of elasticated swim suits clogged with wet sand
And ninety nines were the latest craze then
So devour them we did
The skies were ever blue, the sand always warm, our hair and toes always full of this damp gritty delight
We ceased to dream for we knew we had it all…
A dark vibe gathered over Europe

 

Day Twelve

Silk sheets and whispers

Passion flowing; fires building

Come the dawn; silence

 

Day Thirteen

Giving love to one
Forever in Shadow Land
Spirit tests the Soul

 

Day Fourteen

If I close my eyes tight and try not to cry
I can still see the blue waves on the shore
Washing over the magic circle inscribed
Upon the wet sand
Four poems you said
That was all it would take
A poem for each corner of the world

 

But the blue waves upon the shore
Seemed to pierce my heart
Breaking through the magic circle
I had cast tight around myself
A circle of hope
A circle of four poems
Squaring my circle

 

You were of this world you said
Yet I always saw your other worldy aura
The magic circle that surrounded you
With blue waves on the shore line; pulsating
I gave my heart
With four poems
But they took you home…..

 

 

 

Angel 2

 

Love Desired

…and so for thee my offering for National Poetry Writing Day 2106

The path we live and the path we love
Will lead us down roads that wind and trick
The path we live and the path we love
Will lead us through forests so dark and so thick

A winding path; a challenging path
With everyday a purpose anew
Evolve or die, rise up to the day
Greet every challenge that comes your way

Destiny knows your very fate
And can spin the wheel at will
But those in the know can take control
Can spin their wheel with their own ‘witches will’

The trick of life is to turn the wheel
To turn it as fast as you will
For time and tide will thus reveal all
When the winds whisper sweet words on destiny’s hill

So the path we live and the path we love
Can lead us down trickster roads to the stars
But the path we live and the path we love
If quested, will carry us home to Love desired

 

Knight and damsel

 

March 2016: National Poetry Writing Day

More of my poetry here: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Crooked-Paths-Janis-Ford/dp/1519250290/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1457085574&sr=1-3&keywords=janis+ford

Cruelty Free

Living Cruelty Free, Loving All Animals

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

Bella Basura online

don't dream it, be it

Reclaiming Sovereignty

Annie Dieu-Le-Veut

THE MIDKNIGHT GARDEN: OUTSIDE OF TIME...THE KEEPERS OF SECRETS.

For when you open you eyes to see, you will see the riddles within the mystery.

never trust the fox

a poem a day for April: napowrimo Cambridge UK

The Pre-Raphaelite Society

the international society for the study of the lives and art of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.

mia beach

Designer Crochet & Knitwear Boutique | Unique, contemporary, handmade

Picturehouse Blog

Slightly obsessed with cinema. News, reviews and more from Picturehouse Cinemas and Picturehouse Entertainment

%d bloggers like this: