Dark Gods… #Poetry

Dark Gods

There are Gods that have no light
They live in darkness
Dwell on sorrow, feed on fear
They drop nightmares like rain
We never feel them enter our minds
We never see the dark shadow
that falls across our soul
Nor hear the dark composer of our thoughts
When fear calls, we stand to attention
Dark whispers scratch the mind
Push us forward when we should turn away
How hard is it, to just say no…?

© anita dawes 2020

Buried Ghosts… #Poetry

Image by Martin Winkler from Pixabay

Buried Ghosts

Mountains high
Old dark scars
Black tar rivers run
High castle walls
Lords and Ladies having fun
Unearthly sounds split the night
Warning went unaided
Fools entered
Swallowed by dark inner walls
Never would angels enter
Indoor evil attracts its own
Walls scarred by sounds new, swell
Souls buried in old castle mortar
Too long they lie forgotten
Names scratched on walls
Calling out dates to remember
No visitors heeding
Their hearts unturned
By old news…

© anita dawes

#Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge

WEEKLY #TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 203 #EKPHRASTIC #PHOTOPROMPT

It’s the third week of the month! Time for an Ekphrastic #PhotoPrompt

This challenge explores Ekphrastic writing inspired by visual art (photographs). Diana Peach from last month’s challenge has provided the photo for this month’s challenge:

What
happens
When a ghost’s
pale white image
she sees reflected
With the tears she lets go
Does her wish stir the waters?
Dark hides tiny creatures whisper
When given a heart, let her be loved
Will the magic of the woods give her life?

© anita dawes 2020

#Keepitalive ~ #Whatdoyousee ~ #WDYS ~ #Poetry

Keep it alive

What do you see # 56 – 16 November 2020

Image credit; Phmaxiestevez @ Pixabay

(For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a young woman looking out the glass pane of a partially open door, with an indecipherable expression)

She stands in shadow
As if afraid of colour
One half of the door
Formed in soft orange light
She looks outside
Trying to decide her fate
Is today the day she walks
Through that half open door
Will she pick up the fallen reins of her life?
Will suspicion, doubt, rule the day
Could a soft voice passing say hello?
Move her footsteps
Does she want the outside
To come into her life?
Her grip on the door whispers
I intend to stay in the shadows
Where I have control?

© anita dawes 2020

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge’ Week #25 Entry Part 4) #IARTG #FlashFiction #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity

“Fiction in A Flash Challenge!”

by Suzanne Burke

stefan-steinbauer-HK8IoD-5zpg-unsplash

Grandpa’s estate revealed a hidden room
Behind rows of ancient stories
Many of which I had read over the years
I wish I had discovered the hidden room
When I had spent time at grandpa’s
Now I cannot ask him about it
Why he kept first editions there I understand
The box of family secrets have left me feeling sad
Now I understand the strange hollow feeling
I have lived with for years
I have a family I never knew about
Their love and warmth
would have filled that hollow space
Why were they kept hidden?
Are any of them still living?
This is my task, to find someone
who belongs to me
that connects me to life to my grandpa
To find out if I belong here…

© anita dawes 2020

Grandma’s Attic… ~ #Poetry

Image by Pixabay.com

Grandma’s Attic

I felt lucky when I inherited my grandmother’s house
I loved every minute spent there as a child,
each visit felt like a two-week holiday
My grandmother made life fun
I could feel her spirit in every room
Joe, my fiancé, loved it as much as I did.
He was the first to enter the attic
There we found paintings of every size
Dozens of them, from a long time ago, no signatures
 There were four paintings of my grandmother
Much younger than I had known her
Her eyes sparkled with the same mischief I remembered
Who was the artist?
I imagined a dark-haired Latin lover
someone Grandmother never spoke about
We discovered more behind a large painting
My grandmother in the embrace of a woman
Scant clothing between the two of them
Surprised, as she had been married to grandad
For fifty-five years. Who was this woman?
Were they lovers as the painting showed?
Joe said they were good enough to put in an exhibition
I’m sure Grandmother hid them here for a reason
Least of all from Grandfathers eyes.
I may never find the reason they were hidden for so long
My search goes on, for there are dozens
of boxes and suitcases to look through
What I find will be a story for another day…

© anita dawes 2020

No More than a Whisper… #Poetry

Image by Pedro Figueras from Pixabay

I awoke after nine days in Heaven
Screaming, where is my body
I am no more than a whisper, a puff of smoke
Is no one here to answer me?
My voice, sailing back to ears I cannot feel
Yet the sound penetrated
the part of me that was mind
What dark trick is this?
A new sound entered, bells ringing
Reminding me of Sunday mornings
Walking to church my vision returned
Letting me see the road I stood on
A church in the near distance
People entering the large arched doors
There, I hoped to receive some answers
I couldn’t tell if I walked or floated
Once inside I felt temper mixed with despair
I stood alone in my smoky form
Where had they gone?
Is the church a gateway to another realm?
If so, why have I been left standing here?
I waited until I heard the church bells rind again
Finding myself outside
The street empty, yet familiar
Walking towards the house I grew up in
I was swept up by the family
My family, rushing out to answer the call to prayer
Sat in the pew between my father and mother
My sister and younger brother on the outer edge
Ready to drop our tithe into the waiting plate
With the clang of coin against brass
The smoke holding my body vanished
Had my sins been paid for by the love of family?

©anitadawes 2020