Dungeon Deep

Long, groping, black fingers of
Obscene shadow
Crept
Cloven hooved
Along the darkening walls.

In the dripping forest
Subdued,
But awakening
Furies softly cackled.
Nymphs and Naiads hid in shame.

Wet leaves rustled
As Imps,
Sucuba,
Familiars,
Trolls and
Harpies
Rushed
To heed their Master’s call.

Depravity and corruption
Stalked
The silent chambers and
Those not yet asleep
Covered their heads
And lay
Atremble.

Formless shapes
Slide
From cracks and through cracks,
Seeking
The source
Of this night’s
Abomination.

Deep
In a thick-walled chamber,
Infamy
Danced hand in hand
With profanity.

A thousand
Putrid,
Vile ectoplasms
Gibbered silently
As Lord Ahriman
Entered
The welcoming soul
Of the host,
Naked
Before the rack.

Not before the first
Dull
Leavening of light
Watered
The darkness
Did the obscene forms
Flee
To their myriad hiding places.

A ‘found’ poem taken from Frederick Covins’s latest novel Satan's Fuehrer

Maybe?

Yesterday - Was
Today - Is
Tomorrow - Maybe

Lark Rise

A small dark shadow soars from the ground.
Against the dawn sky the shadow hovers,
Bursts into voice to herald the day and
Beautiful, tremulous notes summon the sun.
Crescendo of notes and then rallentando
Only to increase again in melodic rise and fall
Repeated and repeated again and again.
An anthem to the sun on fibrillating wings
That stirs the heart into new life.

Tribute to a MySpace friend

Wherever she walks warmth is radiated
From her heart to all around who sense
Her presence, however far away,
Even across the oceans and mountains.
She is the personification of love.
A love that knows no boundaries
Of age, distance or gender,
She is simply, Mirza

Shadows

Shadows on the
sand as fleeting
as the ripples,
But signalling
the presence of
man and the
power of the
sea.

Where were you God?

Had a quick pray today, but You it seems were out.
Down the local were You, with Your mates?
Mohammed and that fat fell, Buddha.
I suppose it's all ambrosia and skittles these days.
Why aren't You there when I need You?
Personally I think You've gone away
And nobody's noticed.
Or You're lying down somewhere
After a night out with Your fellow deities;
A sort fo divine hangover.
That's the trouble with sorting out the world's problems,
You take a quick ambrosia to steady Your nerves
And before You know it You're sleeping it off again.
I'll e-mail You next time, okay?