I came so innocent as a child
such wild and fanciful play
I would often tiptoe in the night
staying long into the day
*
Fortresses queen I’d be
sea castles in my mind
and as I older grew
I toyed in the sublime
*
chance encounter that I had
mad he flapped and cawed
black cloaked raven-man
a twisted face, how odd
*
things were altered now it seemed
my dreams began to thin
darkness seeped in and through
imagination’s walls begun to spin
*
Bloodless echoes haunted me
“please” I’d close my ears
steel-like, frozen where I stood
terrorized by my fears
*
Malevolence stalked through the mist
abyss like were his eyes
vile dropped from his lips
his cloak rendered no disguise
*
“I take you as my victim
pinned – a voodoo curse
you cannot from it run
I promise it’s the worst”
*
No light lit his face
trace, there was no sorrow
a hideous malignant sneer
little time left to borrow
**
There is no place that I know
to go or leave this thing
bound in a timeless shell
to none hope can I bring
*
For you, life-taker grows this hate
rape you may my world
but watch this as life’s child
her vengeance is unfurled
*
try with all my will to shake
awake I’d purge the dream
blood through fingers oozed
coagulated as I’d scream
*
my hands they hold a sanguinous flood
loves I cannot save
none could stem abhorrent tide
In their blood I am depraved
*
alert my plans, they have wrought
thoughts to kill my foe
the curse must be undone
for the sake of all I know
*
The maniac’s thirsty schemes
dreams that I now dread
dealt a hand I cannot play
his crimes are mine instead
*
rivulets of a cursed flow
grow as I hold them tight
I stand so pale and aghast
her stream gushes in the night
*
this dreaded, foretold dream alas
last of those I knew
puddles form in ebbing streams
I can only mouth,” Adieu”
*
“Ha” he gasped “Gagnez – you win”
A pin thrust in my side
too late was lost his final breath
” no victory all have died!”
*
keeper of nightmarish pool
fool I knew too late
this ghoulish fiend held a key
would have opened freedom’s gate
*
you, dream-waker come this way
as the noir play unfolds
ghastly gore spread neath your feet
“what evil is untold?”
*
Endless blood pools there it lay
off-stage a cloak is draped
one lifeless human voodoo doll
nightmares he must shake
*
From the doll a pin he gently pulls
full of shape and life is she
cruelly manacled to a frozen wall
his aim to set her free
**
“there must a way to make this cease”
“release me not,” I scream
I now am specter of both worlds
leave me shackled to this dream”
~ Leslie Moon
© Copyright 2013 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.
Pen of the Damned 
This is the nightmare you can’t wake up from or run from
This poem is like a pathway that is full of discoveries that in the end are disastrous for you and others…
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And somehow the character is stuck in a nightmare to hold back worse realities. I don’t even want to think what those could be
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can’t wait to see what other nightmares drip from your pen
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nice….wow moon…this is epic….really nice storytelling…and you capture well the feel in classical feeling piece that is still very modern….like it much…felt it…
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Thanks Bri for feeling the chill and for stoping by
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came to see what you were up to.
A far chilling cry from that romantic poet I met
nightmare indeed!
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Oh thanks for stopping by. No romance here to be sure
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Beautifully painful poetry, Leslie! “leave me shackled to this dream” – very lovely!!
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Thanks Nina – this was a little more to write for me than my normal stuff. Now I know why I write short poetry
A great challenge
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Love a dream/nightmare! A very like Lovecraft tale in poetry!
A home run in this genre for you.
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some people like a good nightmare
~thanks
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Leslie, this is as mystical as it is monstrous; I think you crafted a superb poem with ‘Broken Dream’ and I simply loved it. Its mood, its tone…wordage…everything just swirls together and plays off the other. I know I sound like a reality game show judge, my apologies lol, but your contribution to Pen this week showcases the talent you possess. You allowed this tale to speak for itself & I think it’s beautifully haunting! I can go on and on, but I’d like to give ‘Broken Dream’ another read! 🙂
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A dark reality show host to be sure. Thanks for your confidence Joseph it speaks volumes
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With Broken Dream’s cadence and metre, you led at your whim like a bull pulled by his nose ring. The first word that came to my mind as I finished this was “haunting”. Bits and pieces of this jumped out and bit me while the rest of your cleverly crafted Broken Dream amped up the tension and my enjoyment.
I have a particular fondness for voodoo and similar belief systems. I quite a bit of time living in Brazil, and I saw some pretty gnarly shit that I don’t talk about after dark unless I want to invite something outré to the party. This poem had me bound, especially after the first and second read.
“leave me shackled to this dream” Dark hearts think alike, Nina. This is my favorite part of Broken Dream.
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ooo I like the bull being pulled analogy. This would be a piece that with the right voice a reading with add to that pull I believe. Let’s talk after dark sometime would love to hear more…
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I agree. The right voice with this piece would be amazing.
Let me know when you would like to talk – dark corners are meant to be explored. I’ll send you something that I wrote last year around Halloween. It gives a glimpse to some of what I saw in Brazil.
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would love to read your Halloween piece sounds like some interesting experiences in Brazil
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Such a moving and well crafted poem, Leslie! Like Zack, I have a fondness for voodoo and was quite immersed in the rhythm of the poem as it traipsed through two worlds. Two worlds of conflict? Maybe not as much as most would be lead to believe. Once more: a very moving poem!
Blaze
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Thanks Blaze for your thoughtful comment. Yes two worlds of conflict is right – worlds that can never resolve
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Being aware of what can occur within the words of your poem certainly leaves things open for consideration. Might I add: a very satisfied resolution within the grey matter.
Blaze
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Such a beautiful tragedy, Leslie!!! Your delicate verses of malice, blood, and despair moved me. Your stab at darkness was dead-on accurate! I can’t wait to see what you come up with next. Bravo!
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One thing I like about poetry is it can take the reader to the recesses of his or her own dark places. Your dark places are different than mine (well perhaps)
Tyr thanks for the inspiration you and each of the team give me on the dark side of the moon
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You’ve captured the balance between beauty and menace here, Leslie, to be sure. ‘Broken Dreams’ is a haunting and nightmarish poem, filled with imagery delicate yet dreadful. There is a definite sense of immersion, too, as you lose yourself in the increasingly Damned depths of the tale. Truly, you are Pen’s dark poet!
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Thomas you are too kind in your remarks. I like “delicate and dreadful” – not sure if I can completely shake my romantic bent 🙂
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I visit here by way of twitter. I am never disappointed.
This piece drew me in, the rhythm and wording, are gently hypnotic. I was caught before I knew it.
The last line just nailed it for me.
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Welcome to the Damned!
Our Leslie Moon is wonderfully talented, isn’t she? We are so happy you enjoyed ‘Broken Dream.’
Please don’t be a stranger; once Damned, always Damned. Hope to hear from you again soon!
Best Wishes,
Joseph Pinto and the Damned
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It was great to have you stop by. I have met some incredible people through twitter (I am never disappointed either)
It was the last line that was in my head when I started writing the piece so I’m glad you liked it. Again thank you so much for visiting Pen of the Damned a truly talented group of writers.
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Oh Leslie, Leslie, Leslie…
What a joy to read your rhymes.
It’s a pleasure every Tuesday
Filling me with hella-good times.
There is but one thing I can say,
That hasn’t yet been said.
You work is stunning in every way,
And leaves me with such dread…
Ahhhh… Now, back to our regularly scheduled program (or, programme — so Thomas understands *yankee-wanker grin*)… Leslie, I truly admire your ability to string together so few words while also taking the reader on a dark and dangerous journey of both sight and sound (to borrow a phrase. *toothy grin*)
I have said this before, but I maintain that crafting poetry is a very unique skill that only a few writers possess. As you can see from my attempt, my own rhyming pail is empty. But poetry that is so well-done is another animal altogether. And you, Moon Lady, do it SO fantastically well. *humbled face*
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DW – how do you at one moment have someone on the floor laughing and the next cringing in a corner shuddering? I thank you for your confidence. I am in my beginnings with this dark stuff – I look to each of you to lead the way (tho we may be groping in the dark) Lead on damned ones!!!
(your poetry – exquisite *toothless grin*)
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Thank you kindly, Lunar Leslie. And, I believe, the answer to your question is “mania.” *psychotic smile* *uncontrolled fits of laughter*
But, if this is your first foray into the dark and seedy underbelly of gruesome ghoulies, I believe you are well on the path to finding yourself through the darkness — all groping aside (*but-appreciated laugh*).
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Ok mania works. coming from a Deranged dark side of the moon dweller.
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(Thank you for your British spelling considerations, Wolf!)
I agree. To fully adopt poetry as your craft, and be so successful in it, is a wonderful and frightening thing. Dark magic, Leslie, in a modern world that needs it more than ever.
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my co-writer is a Brit / so we have had to flex with words
hmm Thomas that a tall order mate…
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your work, wicked cool
this comment is a haiku
i am no poet
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Reblogged this on sueshan123.
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Very nice post. I just stumbled upon your blog and wished
to say that I have really enjoyed browsing your blog posts.
After all I’ll be subscribing to your feed and I hope you write
again soon!
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