Hideaway

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Hideaway – a wreckers poem. Sea and pirates and treasure and the macabre. 

Far from port we hide,

Lanterns ready to be carried,

In dead of night,

Across the knives of the bay,

That cut ships to shreds,

Leave their treasure filled stomachs

Open to the sky,

Ready for our carrion claws

To dart and disappear, 

Scampering through the wreckage,

To peck at the ribs of disaster,

So we can eat another day,

On the spoils of tragedy.

The Beadle and the Sheriff

Come along the rocks,

With dogs and torches,

Searching for our lair,

They’ll never find our Sinbad’s cave,

It’s tucked away, secret, lost,

We’ll hide until the law 

Has gone away, until 

The next ship comes.

In the night we’ll leave,

Treasures stashed for other days,

When it’s safe we’ll steal away.

They caught our comrade on the coast,

Strung him up in the port,

So as the tide wanes,

He smiles his rictus grin,

To the sea that kept him,

Until she was done with him,

Rolled him into the arms of the law,

On a rogue wave,

That sent his angler-fish boat,

Onto shore, where the

Fishermen found him.

Sea born, sea dead,

He threw his boots off as

The pushed him from the gallows pier.

One long drop,

Then they’ll return you to the sea,

One last drop,

Neck snapping as she comes to take you,

Back to briny waters whence you came, 

She birthed you and she’ll take you home,

When all is done and fishes nibble at your bones,

Smile the grin of men long dead,

When they catch you,

Mother sea will take you back,

To Davy Jones’ long sought home,

In the end, what’s dead is dead,

But seafarers are ne’er alone.

Image from google image search Here

Babel

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This is a love poem, of sorts, about a person who loses their love in the fall of the Tower of Babel, a story of languages and creation, separation and disaster, though there is always hope.

Babel

When the tower fell,

I lost her,

Towards somewhere 

A thousand years gone,

In a rapture

Of gluttonous crashing,

That became everything 

As it ripped us apart,

Changing our tongues,

As we shouted each other’s 

Names into the cacophony

That took us all,

Dispursed us, 

with the wind,

Into the world.

I looked for her,

Though I remembered, as

She let go of the last

Of my fingers, 

That she shouted her love

In words I could never know,

Though I might try.

The tower tore 

our recognition 

Away,

As we parted

Unwillingly 

With the storm.

I remembered her, 

How we’d sit in the sunset

Together, after our work

Was done for the day,

Taking solace in the last

Rays of sunlight,

The cold that came 

After the hot, hard day,

Embraced us, As it

Healed our sun-scarred skin.

When the dust cleared,

I found myself alone,

I stretched my legs,

Took up my chisel,

I knew that all I could do

Was wander the world,

Until I found her again.

I knew that though we 

Could never know each

Others words again,

We knew each other,

We talked in motions,

Eyes communicated 

In flashes of emotion,

Unrecognisable to another.

One day, we would

Find each other, 

We would walk,

 together at last,

Speaking words

That could not 

Reach our ears

But knowing,

Truly, what lay within 

Our reconstructed hearts.

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I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

The Fairy Steps

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This is a faerie poem, but a warning from one of the nicer ones about the dangers of Faerie, despite its beauty.

 

The Fairy Steps

 

Walk, little fairy, walk,

Guide us across the

Gap between worlds

You took us, once,

Now we must return,

We cannot live here,

In our mundane world,

Where everything seems

So flat, so cold, so grey.

 

 

I cannot take you,

I walk along paths of gold,

Inlaid by my ancestors

In the forest floor

Following glittering edges,

Passing through autumn’s

Fallen leaves,

As the sunlight scatters

In staccato shimmers

From the path

Lightening,

Warming in delicate

Softness, the last

Specks of summer warmth

Easing the chill of the fall

As I wander along

Towards nothing

In particular

To while time away

Spent alone, away.

 

 

We pass, we fade,

It is time for me to leave,

If you seek the paths,

To others of my kin

You must go, beware,

Be wary of their wily ways,

They are not as kind as me,

Their tricks do often mortals sway,

Go careful on the paths,

My friends, would I could

Walk with you again,

Farewell, careful where you walk,

For the snowflake falls,

Where winter stalks.

 

Photo Credit, Ben Wright – Photographer “Rainy Day Woodland Walks”

 

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I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

paypal.me/henrythorpe

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

 

Driftwood

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This sand struck catastrophe

Where we wash ashore,

Ensnared in seaweed,

Lying, stricken, broken

Litter amongst this

Cornucopia of debris.

 

Disaster struck by cannon fire,

That ripped our home apart,

left us wrecked, torn from kin,

Salt water filling our hearts

 

So far from the lands we left,

Bargaining with the waves

For our meagre lives.

Our saviour an oar,

Cast aside in the chaos

For us to cling to,

As we were cast asunder.

 

Flames hit the gunpowder stores,

roaring as our world shattered,

Thunder and brimstone

Engulfed us with our enemy,

Two great wooden matriarchs,

Crimson winds hitting the sails,

Blew each other apart.

 

Quiet, now,

But for the lapping of the waves

As they approach and flee,

No seafarers sway,

Shore unsteady still.

 

We watch the sea,

It breathes

In rippling song,

Born of salt

And sea weed,

Blood torn by barnacles,

Washed away,

To mingle with the sands

Of beaches far

From home,

Under distant stars.

 

Image credit – Ludolf Bakhuizen, Dutch warships in trouble off Gibraltar, a real incident of 1690

 

I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

 

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

 

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

 

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

 

paypal.me/henrythorpe

 

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

 

I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

 

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

 

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

 

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

 

Starfall

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Starfall

Watch the stars as they fall

Into the sea,

As the night sky swallows

Each solitary light,

One by one,

Winking out, until

Eventually, we

Stand, truly alone,

Waiting, for the

Thing that took

The stars, to arrive.

 

 

Standing, shivering,

Staring, at the empty

Wasteland carpet of sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

Behind Streetlamps

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This one is a tribute to Neil Gaiman, it’s almost a Neverwhere inspired poem, really.

 

 

 

 

 

Behind Streetlamps

On the margins of the city streets,

They come when things are sleeping,

Together or apart, old and young,

Ageless and antique.

The folk that time forgot,

That somehow slipped out of the

World, into the shadows

That make this one,

With all the things that we forgot,

That rest here, behind the mirrors,

Past the doors that have been

Bricked up, Paths closed

to the folk who walk in daylight.

 

Things that could have been,

That almost were,

Were dreamed once .

A youth who came to be a star,

But fell to a mugger in an alley,

Fresh off the plane, so hopeful.

He died, but his dreams

Came here. So a little of

Him made it into the fabrics

Of the city behind the city.

It’s more than most get,

In the end..

 

 

He dances, sings and shouts,

This reflection of his dreams,

Unfulfilled there,  living here,

He dances in the shadows of

Street lamps,

Flickering in stuttering light.

 

 

 

 

Image from google images, Victorian Street | by Gareth Wray

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I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

paypal.me/henrythorpe

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

 

Pamphlets 

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Pamphlets 

Magic books are rare, useful ones even more so. They’re valuable, but also dangerous. The really powerful ones are kept under lock and key, they have a mind and power of their own. There are some that look like great and terrible grimoires, the necromancy or prophecy they contain within easy to see. Hey are gaudy by profession, nobody would trust a book of dark magic that wasn’t kept by skull-engraved obsidian, after all. 
 There are a few who do not like captivity. They know how to hide, until they are needed or until they require sustenance. They appear as normal, unassuming books, not anything at all suspicious. They will appear in public libraries, to whisk readers away on a grand adventure. They will return them, unscathed but shocked and battle-worn, to their own bodies when they are done. They let a reader live. Life within them and then when they are done they return them to their own time and bodies, though their mind retains the memory of this other life they loved within the magic of the book. 
 There’s a few which are genuinely dangerous. They can control, become you. If they so choose, there’s not much that can escape their clutches, once they decide on their prey. They live on the peripheries, only a few sheets of paper lodged within brightly coloured covers and bold text. Hey reach further than their compatriots, are more predatory. They find their way into your home, into protests, campus, bars and church. They work their way into every facet of life, multiplying themselves on human energy. They find their prey and they clutch into it, controlling it. They will find their prey, and it will never even notice they were there. 

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I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx
 

Steps in the Frost

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Steps in the Frost

 

Where you walk the frost seems brighter,

A memory of spring to come,

Rather than herald of snow and chill,

The brusque winter air an excuse

To huddle tighter together,

In our greatcoats and scarves,

Until the warmth of our

Home’s fire takes us back

Within its comforting embrace.

 

 

There’s something in these nights

Days spent trudging through slush,

That bound us both together,

More than any ice-born hold

Could seek to sever. Alone, together..

 

 

 

This one is for my boyfriend, the ever wonderful Ben, but shhh don’t tell anyone i’m being soppy.

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I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!

If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)

https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .

If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:

paypal.me/henrythorpe

Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.

I’ve also done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/

Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops

Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

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The Coven

In the moonlight, on the hill, 

Stand three women.

 One broad and helmeted,

Armoured chest and red dress,

Singing arias in the wind.

Though she flickers in and 

Out of view.

Another glints like iron,

Her face as sharp as knives

As starlight glistens on her skin

She smiles in cruel victory

Molten metal in her veins.

The last could be made of stone,

Her flesh changes as she moves

One second granite

Another marble

Then just too-pure human

Her smile is one of freedom

Though her eyes speak of pain

Not long covered by the dust.

Spirit, stone and iron

Unite to meet the moon

Hands grasped in circle

To summon magic in the dusk. 
They came to join their power

Give thanks and absolve crimes

To worship and call out

To sisters far and wide

Covens we’er the moon shines

Crying out in unison.
She came to each and every one,

The moon, in glittering form,

Witchfolk in the mountains,

Merfolk in the tides,

These three broken sisters

Who grasped each other tight.
To Valkyrie she gave a tune

To make mortal men dissolve

Weep at ethereal beauty

When they heard her songs.

Iron faerie looked at Moon

She knew her of old,

One thing she asked of her

To find her foe’s last hold.

Galatea smiled as wide

When moon came unto her

She whispered in the night

To know the names of husband’s ilk

And hunt them with the wolves.
Sisters came, sisters part,

To travel far again,

They gave their blessings to the moon.

As she faded with the dawn 

They grasped each other close

Soon parting, soon to follow dreams 

Bestowed upon their heads,

They looked each other in the eyes,

And prepared to exchange gifts.
The Valkyrie sparkled in the dawn,

Though she faded in the light,

She taught the two battle-hymns,

Sung of war, of death and spite,

That would cause men to fight ,

Die at their command,

If neccessity should strike

Ho-Jo-To she sang aloud

Music of carrion-flight.
Iron Faerie cnjured forth

Vines of sproutlings

From the ground

Instead of leaves and greenery

Metal sparked from roots to end 

She stroked them as they rose around her

Smiling sadly as she did, 

Then broke two branches with her hands

Giving one to each of them,

Silvery iron ivy sprigs

That would keep them safe and sound.
The stone-born lady sighed,

Took from her travel bags

A hammer and a chisel,

That changed form in the light,

As her own skin did,

Granite, Marble, flesh like,

Though as the day broke she

Became more human-like,

She gave Valkyrie the hammer,

Held her as she began to fade

The Iron one she gave the Chisel

To remind her

That in destruction

New things can still be made.
With that the three parted,

Sad smiles as each let go,

Valkyrie faded in the dawn,

Until only sparkles left,

Iron Faerie spoke a spell,

And walked out on faerie paths,

Galatea took her pack,

And with a last longing look,

Walked off into the woods.

This is dedicated to my dear friend and writing partner, the ever wonderful Izzy Jones, who is a warpaint wearing glitter throwing mess of fabulosity, and also an all round wonderful person. 
————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve aslso done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx

The March of the Cats

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The March of the Cats

Paws thundered on the ground,

As they heard it,

This small army of kitten kind.

That echo from rooms

Away, as turning,

Sandra realised she

Had trodden on the cat bowl,

And sent it across the

Floor, clattering,

As a legion of tiny cats

Looked up at her 

With pleading eyes.


————————————-
I’m putting all this up for freeeeeee, for the love of writing and your enjoyment, and if you would like to use it for your own purposes that would be awesome. However, it’s my writing, and I must ask you to ask me first, and credit me (obviously). Also, if you do I’d really love to see/hear/watch it!
If you’d like to support me, on a monthly basis, then i’d love you forever, and feel free to sign up for my patreon here – i’ll link the blog to here whenever I post something new, as well as a few extra snippets just for patrons (so extracts of WIP larger projects etc)
https://www.patreon.com/lonpops .
If you would also like to help me keep putting things up for free, and support my writing but would rather not do monthly donations, my paypal is:
paypal.me/henrythorpe
Share, like, comment, critique, spread the word(s) and thankyou for visiting my page, you’re all wonderful.
I’ve aslso done recordings of several of my poems and stories, which are available on soundcloud here

 
If you’d like to give my page a like on facebook it’s here – https://www.facebook.com/HenryArthurThorpe/
Follow me on twitter (i’m afraid I don’t post much) – @Lonpops
Or drop me an email at hathorpe506@gmail.com

Lots of love,

Henry

xx