A Hidden Truth

A Hidden Truth

by Pete Marshall

A spider clung upon its web

and held onto its social thread

that snared the very soul of life

and danced and spoke of wanton vice

A cuckoo found another’s nest

and there she lay her precious egg

whilst others fed her growing brood

she thought not once of gratitude

A magpie spied a shining prize

and with her tricks and masked disguise

she sneaked on in through open doors

and there she scratched and there she clawed

A wolf would sniff and paw the ground

whilst others rushed and run around

and licked her lips at fat to chew

upon the backs of those she knew

A bat would suck the heart & soul

that gave all hope then let life go

where off she took into the night

to seek out more upon her flight

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A Hidden Truth is my poem for One Shot Wednesday, part of One Stop Poetry, a platform to help promote & share your poetry.

One Shot Wednesday opens every Tuesday evening at 5pm EST (10pm UK)..come and join in the fun

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/athena/

The Pulse

The Pulse

I count the beat within my head

you whisper words so soft and true

I feel the heat that warms our bed

The love that flows our passions fed

that makes me cling inside of you

I count the beat within my head

I feel you rush as love is spread

upon the throw you softly mew

I feel the heat that warms our bed

As love lays blind and hope lays dead

where now its just a wanton screw

I count the beat within my head

The crimson sheets where love has bled

the punctured vein the blood you drew

I feel the heat that warms our bed

Into the night this evil fled

to leave me here in solitude 

I count the beat within my head

I feel the heat that warms our bed

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this poem, The Pulse, is my first ever attempt at writing in the style, villanelle, which is being highlighted at One Stop Poetry. If you would like to know more about this style of writing please visit the following link;

Welcome to One Stop Poetry Form: Villanelle

image creative commons http://www.flickr.com/photos/amanky/

The Return of the One: A Poem From the Darkened Tales Series

The Return of the One

In shallow graves lay withered bones

that once had walked with strength in life

but sharpened knives and broader swords

took breath with Death upon his scythe 

And stones were placed upon the mound

as heathen crowds would gather still

the clans would pray for her return

as winds blew forth a deathly chill

Delores watched from high and far

as songs were sung and blood was splayed

the throats were cut in sacrifice

whilst bodies thrived upon the stage

The Jackal pawed the sacred earth

and sniffed the lust that rode the air

the scarecrow smirked and felt his blade

and knew that life would not be spared

As mist would sweep across the ground

and hide the surge of man and beast

who flashed their teeth in maddened rage

and gorged upon a blood fuelled feast

Delores cried and felt the pain

as clans would strike and show no fear

tonight they died in spite of death

amongst the graves of yesteryear

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The Return of the One is the latest poem in the Darkened Tales Series.

I also share this with One Shot Wednesday, part of One Stop Poetry, a great platform for poets to meet, share, learn and embrace, which starts 10pm Tuesday night and remains open for submissions all day Wednesday

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/martinb/

The Lovers: A Poem From The Darkened Tales Collection

The Lovers: 

A Poem From The Darkened Tales Collection

The room was filled with summers heat

and heavy scents of stifled air

I lay upon a burning pyre

and gently brushed your raven hair

I watched you hide behind a mask

that fuelled the urge of lover’s dare

I cupped your face between my palms

our pupils spoke in whispered stares

And as you slipped from off my bed

I hoped the Lord would grant my prayer

I watched you softly paint your lips

Then strike and fill me with despair

You scoured my eyes with fists of sand

and grabbed my face and pulled it tight

you ripped into my pulsing vein 

then fled into the darkened night...

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This piece is also featured in One Shot Wednesday, a new gathering place for poets & writers to showcase their talents

image creative commons http://www.flickr.com/photos/amanky/

The Scarecrow & The Cougar: Poetry From The Darkened Tales Series

When Van Gogh drew across the sky
He circled stars & captured life
And silver birches shimmer bright
Reflecting moons ensnaring light.
As dreams were told in epitaphs
He stayed beside her fresh warm grave
And clawed the earth with sharpened nails
Afraid to leave this sullen place.
But Jackal growled and sniffed the air
As blood & lust kept dreams alive
And as the yews would sway and dance
He turned his head in search of vice. 

The copper trees have withered stumps
And elms no longer roam the fields
The hedgerows choke on passing fumes
As Jackal preys upon our ills.

And fired light & candles burned
That glowed a hearth of hardened stone
A tingled air & painted lips
Awaited him in cougars home.
He wrestled thoughts from sunken minds
That stained the brains of self neglect
As smoke encircled doubts unwind
Where gin is poured with no respect.
And ragged jeans are ragged things
That hang upon a scarecrows legs
And as a crow would take a perch
He turned his head & snapped its neck.

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image used creative commons flickr gforster67