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
Björn Rudbergs writings
Poetry and fiction by a physicist from the dark side
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Love the taste of the last line, what it does to my tongue, the smooth sharpness of the words…
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.
Imbued with mood………I most liked “carrying the care and might in open throats”.
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
Intense write BJorn….a nightmare upon the page yet painted before our eyes.
The wolf at the door for sure–vividly portrayed. Thanks, Bjorn. k.
This one is totally creepy…and brilliant!
Darkness in this and a chilling feeling of dread. Well done. Bjorn. — Suzanne
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.
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…
“the hungry hinges of a crying door” great line. There is something terrifying about those things that go bump in the night.
This is an excellent descriptive piece. Very visual.
I too thought of Little Red Riding Hood…
Wonderful wordsmithing – the tone classically ominous, as if it could have been written at any point in the last several centuries.