On the edge of the precipice
and stared into the desert
Shall all the eyes turn
or watch the world burn?
Inhaled the diesel fuel, the oil;
fire smoked beyond the sands
Shall all the eyes turn
to watch the world burn?
Primal scream shook the land,
madness snaked into the brain
Shall all the eyes turn
and watch the world burn?
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
Category Archives: Anita Stewart
What You Do
voices
drowned
under cruelty
ideas
suppressed
by contempt
people
objectified
through distortion
We Are Women
we are not yours
to
abuse
mock
sexualise
hate
We Belong To Ourselves
© 2015 All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
Dead Man’s Wake
A black silk tie
to match the lining
of the coffin.
We’ve come to raise
a final glass
and say goodbye.
A gentleman?
No, not him.
More a prig, that one.
A self-absorbed liar,
a cheat, and a scoundrel.
So glad he’s dead.
Farewell, old friend
We’ll not miss you a whit.
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
The Stone Bridge
The wooded glade
holds a secret
buried under
the old stone bridge
Evil deeds
and murdered bones,
deep beneath
the old stone bridge
Names whisper
in the darkness
from underneath
the old stone bridge
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
The Black Rose
She grips a black rose
a little too tight
the thorns bite
piercing skin
She welcomes the pain
and her blood flows
a scarlet river
down the stem
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
NaPoWriMo Day Four
Step Into The Darkness
Are you broken?
Are you battered?
Are you shaking?
Are you shattered?
Do you hear the night-time screaming?
Out your name
In the hours when you’re dreaming?
A waiting game
It’s coming
Shriek
It’s coming
Cower
It’s coming
Flee
It’s here
Hide
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
#CoffinHop – The Snow Queen
The Snow Queen
Do you have a heart, oh Glacial Queen? Or does the frosty wind blow your love cold? What do you see, when you gaze in the mirror? Winter or Spring? Or are you blinded by the snow?
Shattered glass festers
slivers buried in the heart
until it decays
Is it enough, to sit upon your throne of ice? Surrounded by your flurry? Do you yearn for a warm touch, a tender kiss, or has emotion gone, passed from your grasp, perpetually lost to you? Did you trade your life for a Kingdom of Winter?
The bloom of roses
seeks love, recaptures essence
underneath the snow
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
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CoffinHop
The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…
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#CoffinHop – Sandstorm
Sandstorm
Wasteland calling, for the reckless, rash fool
From sand rises death, with thin bones bare, bleached white
Tempest screaming, one name spoken- the ghoul
To chill the soul, madness, shiver in fright
Storm rider, reaper; escape won’t come, but run
Come the next day, the body left for the sun
So fear the sand, its fall, don’t join those few,
those lost secrets, buried, or you will rue
the hour terror followed, when dread arose
Never one left, no soul, to tell of true
Turn the season, and the desert wind blows
Blind eye twisted, and a city stands, to rule
on the warm sand, spires so tall, so bright
Pride and hubris built the desert jewel
within the path, the grasp, of the hawk’s flight
And nothing’s safe, no life; it has begun
Hear the windstorm shrieking, conceit undone
Darkness descends, wailing a shadow hue,
no rain to wash the blood, just morning dew
Empty, haunted, their home- the fate they chose
They fed the beast crimson and evil grew
Turn the season, and the desert wind blows
Ruins mark the time, in stone, a past too cruel
The sand erased the pain, but sees the blight
of crushed relics, splendour lost, in the duel
of opposed wills, the war of the long night
It stands alone, exile, the path most shun
A city torn, shattered, the dark tale spun
The sand is calm, again, a tranquil view
Yet underneath, they lurk, they will pursue
Never absent, they wait, they only doze
The desert bids, enter, and start anew
Turn the season, and the desert wind blows
Refugees flee conflict, a people who’ll
face the desert, scurry to a worse plight
unknown to them; prey in the zephyr cool
as it rouses, as they watch all in sight
and feast that day on flesh, while sparing none
The sand ran red, harsh rivers to outrun
Blame given not to ghouls, but men who slew
Such is warfare, some said, under sky, blue
It is sad luck, to be bones for the crows
And went away, naive, without a clue
Turn the season, and the desert wind blows
So remember, now with hunger they drool
Don’t tempt your life, not once, they’ll take a bite
They hide, they hunt, for you, meat to fuel
their appetite- that need, they take delight
in the killing, the death; it is their fun
In their desert, their sand, you will be done
No hope, escape, just skin and entrail spew
Others ventured, and died; they thought they knew
Stay far from sand, or else the edge will close
Discount, disdain, you’ll see, you’ll get your due
Turn the season, and the desert wind blows
In wind, in sand, we bide, wait the years through
Come closer now, that’s it- more limbs to chew
Tear off the flesh from bones, nibble on toes
Straggler, nomad, the same, you are all stew
Turn the season, and the desert wind blows
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
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The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…
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#CoffinHop – Stairway to the Sky
Stairway to the Sky
Starlit moon,
perched far above
a stairway in the night
Ghostly light outshines
a mantle of ancient shadows
that cascades across the stone
A faint voice calls from the temple
adrift, swallowed in the crashing waves,
and echoing footsteps sounding from each step
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE
Check out the rest of the Coffin Hoppers at:
CoffinHop
The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…
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#CoffinHop – Ashen
Ashen
Path of stones, pale bones
to carry them down
Hear the wild wind howl
The crow caws, give pause
Shadows shift around
Hear the wild wind howl
Wolf in white, need bite
savagery unbound
Hear the wild wind howl
A scream lost, in frost
countless echoes sound
Hear the wild wind howl
None to save, buried grave
The dead, in the ground
Hear the wild wind howl
© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart
Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE
Check out the rest of the Coffin Hoppers at:
CoffinHop
The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…
Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
Kintsugi Poets Society 