Untitled
These burnt words
shift, break,
ash in air.
All that is left
is what isn't there.
Dark like the new moon,
an eyeless socket.
*
Photographer Kruljac Tomislav
Poem completed 3/2014
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October Country
...that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain...
-Ray Bradbury
-Ray Bradbury
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Halloween, poetry, photography, ambient music, my Halloween creations...and anything else I feel like.
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About Me
- bean
- Born with Halloween & horror in the blood. Photographer. Writer. Maker of many things. Connoisseur of horror films, with over 25 years of viewing & education. ~All photos, writings, and artistic works done by yours truly across all my blogs are copyrighted to me. **It must be noted, I am former collaborator and wife of the Halloween artist Pumpkinrot. Collaborator: 2008 thru 2018, Wife: 2008 thru 2020.
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5 comments:
really REALLY love this one.
So cool.
I think you should publish your poetry.
Or at least give a book of them to a certain haunter.
;)
Have to say, I'm diggin' this one too Ms. Bean!
Thanks, ya'll. :)
Very cool poem!
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