A Deathly Tale

A Deathly Tale

by Pete Marshall

An axe that falls upon the neck

Of smoothen skin of innocence

Will draw the breath of life’s regrets

And spasm truths of brilliance

And from the earth the flowers grow

That suck on blood of those before

Who lay beneath in rotten casks

That bide their time with tooth and claw

For in the sky the moon is full

That shines upon the marbled tomb

Who’s stones are etched with flowing words

That speak of tales yet hide the truth

A howl is heard across the pond

As dust would settle on the shrine

The miller works within his realm

As wind blows sails that move with time

And blood will flow and rush through veins

As taste desires those who prey

To suck on sweetly sugared flesh

And stop once more to stay and play

************* 

Originally published at One Stop Poetry 31st Oct 2010

Lord have mercy on us

"Lord Have Mercy On Us"

a poem by Pete Marshall

Darkness falls on cobbled streets

That lead to doors of deep despair

The bell is rang for those that died

As wafts of death pollute the air

A heavy cart that trundles on

Collects the love that fell away

As Royals feast in silver halls

And chew the fat of life’s decay

The fires roar and warm their bones

Whilst bells are tolled and paupers roam

And streets are paved with others gold

Who hike the rates beyond two fold

A weary beast that pulls his load

As master sits with whip in hand

Is led beyond the outer walls

To bury hope amongst the damned

The petals fall from flowered stems

Of roses sung in lullaby’s

The pits are filled from broken homes

And dreams that lived and slowly died

******************

Originally posted at One Stop Poetry 25th Sep 2010

Autumn Dreams

Autumn Dreams

by pete marshall

The winters chill is drawing near

As wind whips through my tired bones

The furnace sparks and flares alight

The conkers placed around the home

The cobwebs hold a magic charm

As morning dew paints crystal scenes

The spiders knocked but cant get in

And lanterns glow in darkened dreams

The candy taste of trick or treat

That warms the mouth of innocence

Yet baptised souls will better fare

From witches spells and temperaments

And portals lay as weakened paths

When all who’ve gone can walk again

We pray their souls are one with God

So Man can walk once more with men

********

Originally published at One Stop Poetry 18th Sep 2010

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

Amen

Amen

by pete marshall

The amber glows on darkened walls

as embers spit within the hearth

A finger trawls an ancient list

and takes a name that’s walked its path

The creak of leather mars the sound

as Death would glide across the floor

and from a hook he takes his robe

and holds his scythe to reap once more

The horsemen ride beyond his grasp

to sow the seeds for Death to seek

the roots lie strong within the fields

as harvest gathers in the meek

His mouth is curled with withered lips

and eyes are sunk beyond his soul

his mind cares not for creed or Man

as Death collects his countless toll

************

Originally published at One Stop Poetry 11th Sep 2010

flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/fenoswin/ 

Broken

Broken

By pete marshall

Homes that are silent apart from a tick

the creak of the pipes and the hum of a fridge

the hub of a kitchen now cordoned with tape

a house that lays dormant alone and awake

A path that lies beaten , a broken front door

the smell of the damp and the chill of the floor

and breath that sits heavy upon a cold face

the coals in the shed and the ash in the grate

The rooms that are empty and a bed that is cold

the sheets that are soiled and the truths that are told

and skies that are angry from tempers that flare

the shouts in the house from the souls that lay bare

The stains on the walls are the strains of a fight

the sound of the heart that beats through the night

and the hub of a kitchen now cordoned with tape

a house that lays dormant alone and awake 

**********

Originally published at One Stop Poetry 4th September 2010

image courtesy commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/bored-now/ 

7:25 by pete marshall

7:25

by pete marshall

The 7:25 was always late

as heels would click upon the path

that led past booths and open gates

and gents would fold their Telegraphs

and brollies sold a blue chip name

as brogues would splash in puddled rain

for Mondays were a weekend draft

that blew through minds and rumbled past

The 7:25 was always late

as heels would rush and clatter by

in A line skirts with seams so straight

that caught a flash from anxious eyes

and some would take a last long drag

and girls would rummage through their bags

for Mondays were a weekend draft

that blew through days and rumbled past

The 7:25 was always late

as heels would scuff and take the strain

for office clocks would never wait

and empty desks would cause complain

as woollen suits brought heavy sweats

whilst being late showed no respect

for Mondays were a weekend draft

that blew through hopes and rumbled past

**************

Originally published at One Stop Poetry 28th August 2010

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

Tintagel - Birthplace of Arthur

by pete marshall

Perched high upon this jutting cliff

The flint felt hard upon my feet

I lay with lizards and basked in warmth

As waves rose high and swirled beneath

Across the bay the castle walls

That stand in time & in a time

Many have been and dabbled with myths

Whilst taking steps to do the climb

Below the surf strikes on the rocks

And hides the cave where magic lies

As people wait for seas to drift

And search for quartz beneath the tides

The rolling slopes and ragged crags

Engulf the isle that now lays calm

Where once was death and battles fought

And magic brought the golden one

My eyes search out the fabled tales

As colours blend upon this land

And birds that swoop in endless song

From grass & rock to sea & sand

Behind my back stands Barras Nose

Who’s clash is vain with battling seas

As heat comes down and warms my soul

I lower my head in prayer for thee

And those before and yet to come

Like beating drums within my mind

To find a place that brings you peace

Away from truths that take you home

*********

Originally published One Stop Poetry 21st August 2010

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

The Wreckers by pete marshall

The Wreckers 

by pete marshall

The bells would chime as lowered heads

would march in line to pay their debts

but coppers weighed on ravaged hands

as wolves would bay in greedy clans

And nights would close on darkened rooms

where paths were chose that led to doom

and on the beach from tunnels deep

the ships would breach as wreckers meet

Among the brine the cries of men

that took to crime to feed their bairns

whilst sailors drowned in torrid seas

and booty found beseeched by pleas

They climbed the rocks and journeyed home

as hope would mock their tired bones

but death would lay upon the cliffs

when state would claim their laden gifts

****************** 

originally published One Stop Poetry 14th August 2010

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

The Dawn Chorus

The Dawn Chorus

by pete marshall

I felt the chill upon my face

that urged my mind to open eyes

I heard the tune of morning song

as light would waken from the night

I heard the wind blow through the trees

as children stirred and stifled yawns

I smelt the bacons wafting scent

that welcomed in a summers dawn

The ground was wet with morning dew

that glistened on a fallen leaf

and as I cupped my steaming mug

the coffee found my lost belief

I looked out far across the fields

and watched the crows that ruled the sky

I watched you slice the crusty bread

and let the time just pass on by

I heard a noise that brought me joy

as children laughed from deep inside

beneath the quilts and sleeping bags

they  wiped the sleep from off their eyes 

I laughed at hair and ruffled clothes

that sat beside and watched the dawn

and though the chill would keep us cold

the taste of bacon kept us warm

************* 

originally published at One Stop Poetry 31st July 2010

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

Jack: A Poem from the Darkened Tales Series

Jack

by pete marshall

The sound of heel on cobbled stone

that stalked the streets of yesteryear

as sewage flowed with soiled dreams

Jack would walk bereft of fear.

His mind was caged and wrought with grief

as pain destroyed his inner eye

and cancers crept and clawed his soul

A lovers voice that hushed goodbye.

A nothing moon that held no light

on darkened paths and brick red walls

and staggered coves would leave their slums

to rest in doors amongst the gloom.

No bells would ring in East End homes

as night would fester cold and smog

and as his heels clicked on the stones

the hooves of carriages on would trot.

And on this night he saw her there

as charm would ‘tice a drunken Lord

who’s sword was stiff between her thighs

whilst shillings lined her wayward hoard.

But in the dark on hidden streets

the stench that reared on soiled paths

Jack lay down his leather bag

and drew the tools that played their part.

And as the Lord would hasten thrusts

her teeth bit deep on glistened vein

and then the whites within her eyes

would roll as blood was left to drain.

And as he pulsed between her legs

she drank the life he clung on to

but from the shadows Jack would walk

and drive his stake so hard and true.

The night was filled with eerie screams

as Lord fell hard and wrestled free

he turned and fled beyond the street

as Jack knelt down on bended knee

and with his skill he’d cut & slash

to take a heart of hardened stone

that led a path to darkened graves

for him to walk once more alone.

***************

originally published at One Stop Poetry on 2nd July 2010

Image courtesy of walraven @ flickr