Lavender
Lavender
Jan 31, 2024

Untitled, for Eddy ~

Poem Body

There is an ominous lordship
in the woods - no child plays,
no cardinal sings,
no pod, nor leaf, nor seed
endures. No blade of grass
is remembered.

Unfiltered death hangs - purgatoried.

I have been to this cold place,
embittered and unholy.
Wretched vines strangle each other in
a struggle for the hard, sallow dirt.

Trees have ossified, turned rangy,
their stark branches pilfering
dust from the air as their rotted roots
forage deeper, churning down to the
chasm below.

I sensed this perdition while out walking,
peered through its brush and pulled myself
back, terrified with the knowledge of something
devoid of Divine and Good.

In telling you this, there is no name that
I recognize for this place of damned and
tortured souls, nor will I pen another
word, leading to my own annihilation.

And so, my poem remains ~
Untitled.

About This Poem

Last Few Words: Eddy offered a challenge to me to write something evil in nature. This happened to me a couple years ago. I posted an earlier version back in October '22, and reworked it. L

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Country/Region: United States

Favorite Poets: I tend to read Ted Kooser, Jim Harrison, Paul Simon, Robert Frost. I like minimalist poetry, and poems reflecting on nature and Mother Earth.

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Comments

Candlewitch

No letter (L) for me fair flower for, to me, you must not be abbreviated.The (L) is for all others or for Laudanum, with whitch I sometimes sleep. The whole piece is overpowering like a narcotic. It reads slowly for me, like a meandering river, so each line is a dark caress... all the rush is down the road. You have not only succeeded but surpassed the set goal. I find myself darkly enchanted! My favorite lines are the beginning and ending of the poem! thanks for this challenge well met!

But this verse wraps around my mind:

I sensed this perdition while out walking,
peered through its brush and pulled myself
back, terrified with the knowledge of something
devoid of Divine and Good.

and I find myself pausing here while I feel a rush, shivering deliciously!
Thank you for taking on my challenge, I much enjoyed...

*yours, eddy styx

Lavender

So glad you enjoyed this, and approved. That means a lot to me! This feeling was overwhelming, especially at the time it happened. Not sure I would wanna concentrate on the dark side very often or very long...
Still, thanks for the challenge, and thanks for the generous support!
L

Ruby Lord

Hi Lavender, your use of language in this poem shows how adept you are at writing dark poetry and I am impresssed.
Trees having ossified, with branches stealing dust from the air while their roots delve deeper into a chasm, is magnificent of the relentless descent into darkness.
I enjoyed your poem because it was so different to what you normally write as you are mostly tempered and mellow but here, I see your skills in forceful flow.
And this line: "Wretched vines strangle each other in a struggle for the hard, sallow dirt." is outstanding.
Well done, loved it. Ruby :) xx

Lavender

Ugh...it was such an empty, unnatural feeling, especially immediately following. Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts with this one. I'm ready to let it lie.
Thanks, again!
L

Candlewitch

you have a newly discovered talent.. you are a natural!

*your, eddy styx personified!

Lavender

I'm absolutely not a natural. :) It didn't come to me easily, or at least I didn't welcome it too easily. I respect the talent you and others have. You are the Masters of the Dark!
L

Candlewitch

I guess, what I mean, is that your poem flowed so freely in its presentation, that it felt natural. Do you understand what I mean?

e.s.

Unca Fez

The only thing missing from this cursed wood is eddy's house, described on https://www.mythramuse.com/hellsgatesguardian/ as:

eddy styx lives in an eerie old house where the floors creak, ominously. His hobbies are poetry and the three M's: motorcycles, mayhem, and murder. He lives alone with his Cat, Phineas, a lovely Manx, and several ghosts from his past.

I can see a path into that wood with low-hanging branches and roots threatening to entangle your feet that leads to this house in the heart of the wood.

Just reading the poem sends a chill through me. Perhaps the Girard Avenue ghost visits this blasted wood. Oh, the possibilities! You should explore them!

Lavender

Well, no matter what it was in those woods, Dear Eddy or someone / something else, I'm gonna leave it be. :) But I'm glad you enjoyed this!
Thank you!
L