I Buy In Stephen King, I Buy In
My #24 For National Poetry Month
you hiss names in the dark
wait for them to come
name tags drifting to dust,
the mulch of your sleep.
your breath tells their tale
in twisted sibilance,
forked tongues
must act in accord with their nature
the dreams of innocents
your fodder, snaked canapes
served with a hint of lime
piquancy on death's breeze
and i
am still afraid of the dark
© 2017 Audrey Howitt
Comments
AUTHORThank you Mary! No a Stephen King fan?? Aww--I am reading an up and coming new horror writer right now--Nick Cutter--love his stuff--and it feels so poetic at times!
I can relate. Darkness seems to conjure up all sorts of visions..
Stephen King has a lot to answer for! He does his job so well, as do you.
His work, I can't read but yours, I love.
Nice eerie Stephen King feeling.
Wonderful! I haven't read many hubs lately and I'd forgotten just how much I enjoy your poetry; this one certainly packs a punch.
Ann
Ummm! Deep, that one.
"forked tongues
must act in accord with their nature." - Audrey Howitt. How true!!
"The mulch of your sleep" where in the world do you come up with lines like that? I am beyond jealous at this point.
Hello Audrey - I see you are no stranger to the dark side. spooky.
Your poems are so divers. I like that and particularly enjoyed the last line.
Such imagery! I envy your ability to write it. And yes, I'm still afraid of the dark because I feel the spirits there.
My favorite line is "the mulch of your sleep..." The ending made me smile and say "me too." Jamie
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