Winter, the Coffin

Oh winter, you wrathful hovering beast

embrace the earth, rid us of heat

you caress my face with icicle fingers

making me numb to all of the dangers

the frost seeps into my brain

in winters tempest I’m insane

In halls formed in icy breath

frosty walls reflect my death

trembling in fearful acceptance

of my fate within this tempest

swirled around me this sanctuary

in the bowels of January

Death! Death! The ravens cry!

The blackbirds sing that I must die!

forest full, a frozen procession

bony hands of death’s possession

mocking howling of northern winds

like shrieking of a thousand sins

Cold, you roaring fearful thing!

not falsely have the mourners sang

mountains like a deathly watch

dark specters in a deadly crouch

my doom is spelled out in the flakes

my bones will freeze inside these lakes!

Eternally this snow became my bed

Enrobed in ice, my flesh is dead

Enthroned in frost, my soul is captured

Ever-winter gives its morbid rapture

Something Unearthed

Today, I was digging through some old papers and notebooks, and behold, I found this! This is probably the only bit of free verse poetry I have ever written…and I have to admit, as much as I have vehemently opposed free verse poetry in the past…reading this actually makes me want to explore it more! Anyway, this was written about a year ago, and is a legit emotional outcry from my heart at the time. I won’t specify the internal struggle I was having…but I’m sure some of you are perceptive enough that you can at least find an idea of what it could be. Anyway, I hope you, O unnamed and unknown reader (you are out there, right?) enjoy this little piece of poetry. Shalom!
My swollen heart burns and it beats
I clasp my chest, pleasure and agony pulse
blood of love, hate, rushing in rivers of passion
I want to feel this burning flow
but no, all I want is for it to vanish
away from me, to cease from tormenting
my soul relishes this slightly sickening sensation
of my sullen, sarcastic sonnet
How could something so beautiful, something I want
be everything despised inside my mind?
pride and dignity, all left is shattered
torn, ripped, consumed by black beasts
devouring the pieces of a heart once full
of innocent desires proven to be a curse
God gave me this, He was the one who gifted
the thing, the desire, the curse!
A beautiful gift-a hole deep and mired
within a pantheon of impurity
I corrupted, defiled, brought it to ruin
blame my foolish fantasies that fill me!
My soul desires this passion to flourish
but known to me, it cannot be granted
not until my thirst and hunger are quenched
by a love greater than any vow of affection
for his affliction the provision for my redemption
why do I seek when love has been found?
given to me in a loving gift of humbling generosity?
its proportions cannot be measured and i will never
measure up to the holiest standards
These affections, these I know…
Still inside me remains a longing…
God, fill me.
Father, I beg thee…

I, Werewolf

Back story behind this morbid little guy? I was a (I think) freshman in high school, sitting at home with a lot more free time than money. I got the random idea for a poem and POOF there it was! Man, I wish I had all the time to let my creative juices flow that I had then. Ah well, for every thing there is a season! Anyway, if you enjoy stuff about werewolves and death (like I certainly did when I wrote this) I hope you enjoy this poem. Shalom!

I, Werewolf

I curse at the sky, then my eyes see

full moon of midnight staring at me

the time draws near for the lust to return

I strain out a growl as my chest starts to burn

hell fire shoots through my soul

and bloody rage flares to the full

my heart tries to escape from my chest

knowing tonight there will be no rest

peaceful village sleeps in the night

in my soul there is no more light

I burst in and roar for their blood

they scream and cry and pray to their gods

blackest night, now stained bright red

mutilated corpses, I’ve eaten the dead

not one can stand before my hunger

I will reign in this wood forever and ever

a thousand years I have been cursed

tortured all times by the undying thirst

I, werewolf, shall surely never die

until time itself in it’s grave lies