Gothica a Halloween Poem repost (2009)




At a table

with goblets

set for a feast

in a forest

where spiders

hang pictures

spotted with

jewels of mist

and the departed,

someone sits

chewing on glass.

It is crunching,

as it turns to liquid

in their mouth


with small

undisolved shards

pushing their way

through them,

needling and

touching the meridians

of their soul.

One—lone shard—

pushes through

their heart, where

what was liquid—

like mercury—

becomes frozen

in the air

and turns

into a rose

bright red

with the blood

gone unseen.

If you touch it

it will melt.

For, the warmth

of touch

turns it into a puddle

that, drips

down their shirt

in tears

they dare not spill.

At their right,

a spider

made an inquiry

into an army

of glass ants—

not liquid not solid—

walking across

the table.

He pushes

a mislaid sugar cube

into a pool of


and dribbles it

down the tablecloth

and onto a chair.

Nimbly he climbs

his drop sailed anchor

back to his web,

and sitting

on edge

he pulls it down

to meet the chair.

His web laden

with a sweetness

all his own,

burgeons on the

pool below,

till one explorer

invests a moment

to pursue

the sweet aroma’s

vapors and rises


Before he can usher

the words

“Stay Back,”

as tacks

adjoin his feet

to weave,

still another

pursues this maze,

and the two

gaze out

one at the other—

the admired

and the admirer

both with

death’s shadow

Now approaching.

Share A Story, a Thought or a Poem....Maybe, I'll post it!

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s