Archive for October, 2010

Poem: ‘Unenchanted Evening’

Posted in My Poetry with tags , , , on October 28, 2010 by echostains

Black.  I’ve always liked black.  Black is the colour of the mysteries after all.      Gothic architecture, Gothic music, Gothic clothes – who wouldn’t?  Plus it’s getting close to Halloween – and I have to work when I should be partying!  However, I do LOVE colour – bright colours!  Turquise and pinks – bright colours uplift and make you feel happy, they can really raise your spirit and make you feel  glad to be alive.  I wrote this poem last year.  I don’t know why I’ve never published it on my blog until now. 

 Ara by the way is a meeting of Goths for an evening of Gothic metal.  it is held in a church and is not a religious meeting – just people listening to music and having a good time.  As you can imagine, being dressed in pink doesn’t really qualify for membership in this instance:-)

Unenchanted Evening

In town,

Going down

To the vodka bar,

Bar nothing

Two for one

We go on

to an evening

Leading to nowhere.

An invite comes

For an ara

Our pink tinged clothes

Can not compete

Bring your own ale

Pink or be pale

Been there – and jaded

not easily persuaded

Not me!

A dark scented hiss 

Which God doesn’t miss

As they hide

Where the sun don’t shine.

Lynda M Roberts ©2010

Gothic Wedding dress image from here

PS My last Poetry Challenge is ‘Weeping Woman why do you Weep’


What the Dickens? poetry challenge has just started on my page here

For details about how to enter (and see the contributions so far, please click The Weeping Woman)  Don’t forget to mention Bookstains with a back to link to me when you enter:)

PS There’s a lovely Memorial Haiku page over on the HAIKUDOODLE blog.  Please remember loved ones and contribute a Haiku 🙂

Poem – ‘In the quiet time’

Posted in My Poetry with tags , , , , on October 9, 2010 by echostains

I wrote this poem some time ago.  It’s part of a collection of poems that seem to deal with time, or to be more accurate’ between’ times – like waking and sleeping: reality/unreality, the  ‘middle’ bits, which  seem to be a reoccurring theme with me.  This poem is about nightmares and night terrors that seem so real – they stay with you affecting your day….. (if you let them)


In the Quiet Time 

It’s always in the quiet time

That throats are set a gasping

Grasping to decipher

The stifled scream

That flies unbidden


Into the cold charred heart of night


It’s always in the quiet time

That hearts are set a trembling

As unblinking paranoia rips its roots

And leaps up screaming –

Steaming into the yawning chasm of dawn


It’s always in the quiet time

The soul is fooled and waking

Lies quaking seeing shadows as its truth

Its darkness dripping,

Chipping into the bright morning light


Lynda M Roberts © 2010

 Henry Fuseli ‘The Nightmare’ from here