Category: Poetry

Forever Blood

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash

Desperate, we strive to unite
both sides of souls made
unmanageable by time
and technology, pain and war,
our conjunction hearts seeking
to ease from the shade,
break from the blinding glare of false light.
Neither black nor white, but red,
they run, with copious amounts of blood.
Always blood. Forever blood.

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.

Arabian Dreams

Photo by Mike Yukhtenko on Unsplash
Photo by Mike Yukhtenko on Unsplash

A scimitar moon slices the dunes in twain,
rippling sands in obsidian curves,
twisting mercury tinges of diamond-bright light:
A fantasy made real.
And though this throat constricts,
I take one final breath of midnight;
the mirage remains the same
of you in silks wrapped loosely,
dark eyes beaming onyx bright
with desert dangers of old.
Dangers reflected in my own.
They are the merest flashes, glimpses of eternity,
where dunes, moon, oasis and mirage
merge into the same Arabian dream.
My dream. Our Dream. Us.

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.

Indelicate Descents

Photo by Ning Shi on Unsplash

Falling like feathers through each other’s mind,
this is our way, these delicate descents.
But not always.

Our hearts once rose like rocks, forced from Vesuvius by tectonic immensity.
As gold-plated angels, we ascended.
As false gods, we looked down on them all.

Sparks extinguish.
Lights go out.
Coatings tarnish.
Heights are made from which to fall.

I see her, feel her, think of her as a rainbow does the sky.
One without the other is pointless,
as only one gleams.

She sees me, hears me, thinks of me as a star does the endless night.
Such pinprick pomposity!
Blink and it’s gone.

We tumble like feathers in an indelicate descent.
We tumble.
Fall.

Another dream soured.

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.

Celeste

Photo by Tati y Adri on Unsplash

Eyes like the heavens
full of wonder, sheer bliss,
alive in this darkness,
her gift, softest kiss.

She dreams of lost comets
and obsidian deaths,
for in all of my multiverse,
there’s only Celeste.

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.

The Don’t Before Goodbye

Photo by Kristina Tripkovic on Unsplash

Don’t hold me to the mountain
Don’t pin me to the sea
The air is all I ask for
I crave it desperately

Don’t slice me with a raindrop
Don’t strike me with a cloud
Just freedom in the moment
I lift my eyes unbowed

Don’t kill me with these falsehoods
Don’t put me in a hole
You think that I am desperate
But you don’t own my soul

Don’t club me with a toothpick
Don’t hang me with a tie
Because I’m there already
My friends, this is goodbye

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.

The Ghost of the Grey

Photo by Jan Canty on Unsplash

Indefinite, she rises
A sombre shade of grey
Melancholy by her movements
Spectral by the day
Licking at the sunset
She pokes the dawn away
This ghost is acting strangely
This ghost of Anna-May

–

A charcoal wash, her paintbrush
In gloaming, she will pray
To those willing to hear her
To listen to what she’ll say
For screaming’s not so fearsome
In a misting winter bay
Where she leads the dead from water
As they set their feet on clay

–

To fear her, is to see her
Unadulterated fay
She who walked amongst us
Now drifts here to betray
The ones who marked her passing
The ones who sparked foul play
But most of all once lovers
This man who writes to pay

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed.

Solitary Lines

Courtesy Xoltan Taso Unsplash.com
Hours pass in endless judgements
Arguments of self
There is no winner
Can be no winner
Just the ticking from the shelf
Reminders from the mantle
Motioning of time
That I’m a sinner
Soul’s growing thinner
‘Cross this solitary line

Thank you for reading
Richard

Richard M. Ankers
Author of the brand new steampunk extravaganza Britannia Unleashed