Flaunted flick knives of the dark

· by · in free verse, poetry. ·

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Lying on my bed, in constant apparition of
the hungry hinges of a crying door.
Foggy lantern paints cadaverous sheen
on puckered skin and sunken skulls.
My nose and fingers winded up in skeins of fog,
sideways — withered — sunk in danger
before appearance of the frosted hairs
the hairy caps, the gnarled spectacles
and bloated veins belonging to the wolf.
Turning towards the dreadful door
an old root in a feeble fall of snow;
Burly footsteps and the smell of fur
carrying the care and might in open throats.
An end in flaunted flick-knives of the dark.

Linked to Toads
Words and phrases partly picked up from Bleak House inspired by Misky
—
January 20, 2014

14 responses to “Flaunted flick knives of the dark”

  2. I don’t know if you were poking fun at the nipples poking out on these dolls in the photograph attachment, or if you were describing the cold. Either way this was both funny and entertaining to read.

  4. Wonderful, particularly that root in the feeble fall of snow. I love what jumps out of Bleak House, and catches your imagination. And thank you for the mention! xx

  9. I’m getting a little flashback to Red Riding Hood here–the better to eat you with–as well as a feeling that this would make awesome metal lyrics. I love all the little twists and turns this takes, Bjorn.

  10. manikins, faceless images in the depths of your poem; are skilfully juxtaposed with the images especially of these line
    “an old root in a feeble fall of snow;
    Burly footsteps and the smell of fur”

    much love…

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