Horror Free Write

A friend of mine posted on fbook:
“What is it about the woods that screams Horror at night?”
Here is the little free write I did…

Is it the fear of the murky unknown,
as you gaze into the pitch black abyss?

Not knowing what looks back at you,
or could be surrounding you in the mist.

Listen to the blood-curdling silence,
every snap of a branch,
becomes a new battle of sheer will…

The primal instinct of fight or flight,
is now just your body and time,
frozen perfectly still.

We love the dark night game of terror.
The “what if’s” of our imagination and
a sudden rush of adrenaline we can feel…

I think the unique scenarios we play out
from the deepest recesses of our mind….
Is what ends up giving us the biggest thrill!

Advertisements

Leave a Trail

May your kind heart be filled with joy;

your brilliant mind, sound and at ease.

Let your soul soar without frantic words;

and guide your spirit to an elegant peek.

Don’t cower in the unholy darkness;

or let that golden light within, flicker out

and fade away…

Believe in yourself and run with your

wildest dreams; touching every single

person you meet, along the way.

Leave a trail…of hope, love and

inspiration

©Copyright 2014 Cheri Celeste Pennell Leave a Trail edit of “A Happy Heart”

leaveatrail

Ochre

The creamy vanilla sun

melts burnt orange

down into a pale lavender field

sinking fast

while your mind sways

to and fro

like a rope swing

at the end of summer

weighing the options

taking inventory

of choices

that have been made

or even turned away

left defeated

 

there is a grey murky

creek-like water

that crosses

in and out of it’s banks

never black

never crystal clear

but continually

double-minded

undecided

if something isn’t working out

it will likely stay the same

until you take action

to do something different

to bring about change

so you step away

for just a moment

to clear your head

to breathe without

gasping for breath

bring in a ripe cherry perspective

an outlook

fresh and unbiased

 

then the sun rises

brushing peaches and

blushed apples

one crisp fall morning

as the leaves

spin and let go of their

sullen trees

on angels wings

they float

to the ground

the wind caresses

the lifelessness

but all of the time

swirling the gold, red, and brown

into a marmalade pile

of memories

that cannot be

forgotten or replaced

so you give it another try

knowing that a friendship

is better preserved

than thrown away

 

There is a burning within

your spirit as you try to

separate the bitterness

from a pomegranate’s flesh

the cruel winter rolls in

frigid redundantness

starts to spread deadly

blue frostbite

across your heart

like a trapped animal you snarl

but stand silent

knowing your options

are slim to none

it is now only

escape or death

under the silver waning moon

using every ounce

of preserved

starved strength

banging your head

again and again

against the steel mesh

until ultimately

the latch is sprung

and freedom is obtained

before all hope can be deferred…

Inspired

Words are never wasted

only sometimes held back

or too easily discarded

even forgotten

still awaiting

completeness

somewhere

like a child

within a maze

worn and faded

puzzle pieces

lost or left behind

laying dormant

fresh yet immobile

buried like petrified wood

new ideas

abound and flourish

overtaking

fleeting

thoughts

blossoming like wild roses

from the sound core of my heart

instinct takes over

allowing them to become

unbridled and uncensored

like the thick underbrush of

wilderness untamed

its like waking

from sound hibernation

retreating from a cold

deep dark damp cave of

catatonic sleep

crawling through the earth

until ability improves

and agility returns

alert and moving forward

not frozen in fear

or running in circles

but cutting and paving

a brand new golden path

never again daring

to go back down

any familiar dead-end

dirt roads

with different people

endless spiraling staircases

elevators with frayed cables

I have made a noose

at the end of my rope

to play cowgirl

and lasso some hope

 

 

Scarab of Mortality

Emerald

Blistering

Metallic

The Shiny Beetle of Death

The Stench overcomes, it lingers

but paints a pretty tunneled picture

as we hold our breath

Circling over

watery orbs

Resting upon swollen tongue

To take his very own piece

More or less partake of all we loved

Scattered across the sky

and swallowed up

like dust, by a dove

Cadaverous Night

Dangling between enthralling rapture

and deplorable lament in the mist

morning dew clinging to snow-white linen

and worn woven silk. Starving. Imagine.

Starving imagination in contrast

to stagnant and sedate notions

nothing.

Stealing glances through the corners of some

other peoples focused rare optical illusion

on an absurd orange passage

into infantile seclusion. Hiding.

Concealing all in an abyss full of

Mighty

Waning

Macabre towers of

Vitality and Vigor

Each moment beguiled

Passed over in articulate banter

Appeasing the shy pariah

ever-so-slightly

by lapidating the truth known within.

Conjuring up

the well balanced direction

that is to come

next on the pathway.

 Filled up with sligtht

endurable affliction

sorrid torn contemptible languishing

for that old familiar town

where we all ran on and

free into the bright white

Cadaverous Night

A Sound Recital Hall

 

Colorful clandestine blooming

after a cocooned slumber

 

Blessings washing dirty feet

and hungry mouths

 

No longer Seeking or Striving

 

BoundingFree

for Honor

not Glory

TRUTH

 

Restored by Loyal Piety

And an unconditional

Fervor and Zest for

ALL LIFE AND HUMANKIND

Knowing there must be

Patience in Virtue

To withstand torrent

Downfalls

Obstacles

Tests

on one’s limitless WILL

 

Splendid Celebrations

From the Proverbial Masses

Kindred Spirits

Imminent enthrallment

of belonging

fairy_of_hope_and_peace

Roaming to elated Humility

After falling off a Ferris Wheel Journey

To insignificance

 

Splendid spent energy

and famously balled up atoms of

Scarlet Totality

in a Frenzied Cyclone of

Sleep Deprivation and Chaos

 

Doing back bends over Hot Embers

them skimming upright

to Walk on Water

never Falling through the Cracks

always Sealing in the Myth

of Arbitrary Co-Dependence and Denial

 

enabling the moment

to contort and revert back

to a Sound Recital Hall

of Intermediate Knowledge

 

to Inspire Creation

and a Broadened Wisdom

and Knowledge of Reason