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Paul Williams

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Walking with Ghosts Palm Sunday 1461 Part 2
by Paul Williams → (All Poetry by Paul Williams)
   Rated "G" by the Author.
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Here's part two of Walking with Ghosts...a vision from hell.


Poem Artwork

Walking with Ghosts


Palm Sunday 1461 (Part ii)


 


'Of Banners and Bodies'


 


My eyes transgress, or my mind does thicken


with the magic of sub-conscious deceit,


for what is this that lies before my feet?


 


Rigid to the spot I stood


limbs like roots of wood,


mouth agape, air, sickly sweet,


tainted the throat and tinged


the tongue with the taste


of a bloodied fate.


I began to gag in disbelief


as my heart beat faster


an unwilling witness to the aftermath


of a human disaster.


For where should’ve been my car


lay quietus amid the detritus of war,


swords like crosses, cankered round


carcasses rotting by the score…


 


Everywhere…Bodies, bodies, bodies…thousands all around


 


so many, it was hard to distinguish what was ground.


Like crimson idols, laid in death’s repast


faces froze in the horror of their last.


Eviscerated entrails, heads and limb


Arrow-shafted horse


and bloodied banners


cracking on a chill winter wind.


 


High above, clouds began to swirl


faster and faster began to curl


into a vortex of jet-black ink


which began to sink


toward the ground


in ethereal sound…


until


A bomb-burst of black winged scavengers.


Jackdaw, Raven, Rook and Crow,


in unison cawed


as descended the black snow


of natures butcher horde.


It was as if all the carrion in the land


had come to feast on this banquet so grand.


 


By all that is sacred this cannot be,


What sin did I commit to behold such misery?


 


A raven laughed a beady black laugh


mocking me from his high throne of blight


as his bloodied scythe disgorged an eye


from a socket no longer needed for sight.


 


I sank slowly amidst blood red sludge,


eyes shutting out the horror


that sent my soul screaming


and sanity seeking sanctuary


from these images that would not budge.


 


Time had lost itself to my comprehension,


courage, crept slowly forth and forced


open one eye with some apprehension.


I heard a larks song raised in the sky


sweet and long…opened the other eye…


 


The vision was gone…


 


Overwhelmed with shocked relief


and an uneasy sense of grief.


I began to retch on all fours,


dispensing phlegm filled fears


cheeks, streaming with saline tears


I sought to get my breath


and forget the images of death


eyes closed enjoying the clean air refrain


filling my lungs with the confidence


to question my sanity once again…


 


When I felt something cold ‘neath my chin?


Startled eyes shot wide


a scream stifled and died…


as my heart took residence where


my larynx should’ve been…


and after all I’d seen… Oh my lord!


The only thought


as I stared in disbelief at the sword


at my throat…


 


P Williams ©2005


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


 


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 Reviews of "Walking with Ghosts Palm Sunday 1461 Part 2"
Reviewed by annie weston (Reader)
Reviewed on May 4, 2009
OOO SPOOKY!! LOVED IT!!!

Reviewed by Bhuwan Thapaliya
Reviewed on May 9, 2005
Outstanding tale....clap clap clap...pertect!!!!

Reviewed by andrea coltman
Reviewed on May 7, 2005
Very haunting and chilling write...best wishes Andrea

Reviewed by Robin Labenberg
Reviewed on May 4, 2005
OMG...awesome..I am speechless and thinking about giving up writing when I read something this graphic and so well penned!!!

Reviewed by Huda Orfali
Reviewed on May 4, 2005
Powerful narrative and an outstanding poem
thanks for sharing this gem
love and peace

Reviewed on May 3, 2005
Oh so excellently dark and intriguing, this was outstanding!

Reindeer

Reviewed by Helen Downey
Reviewed on May 3, 2005
Paul you are a great story teller! The weaving of your words was spellbounding! WOW!

Helen

Reviewed on May 2, 2005
Paul,

Prosed to excellence ... a superb tale - outstanding!!


Blessings,

Robert

Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
Reviewed on May 1, 2005
Wow!


Reviewed by Regis Auffray
Reviewed on April 30, 2005
This tale and the manner in which you poetically express it brings shivers to my spine. Most effectively presented, Paul. Thank you. Love and peace. Regis

Reviewed by E T Waldron
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
Paul, I'm astounded by this hellish poetic tale! No one does these like you. Your vocabulary is what makes it so eloquent and effective!
the finale is fantastic! Masterful work poet!

Eileen

Reviewed by SHERRY HEIM
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
What a horrifying tale you weave, Paul. Excellent writing but I must warn you against eating those Peyote buttons...they are really full of poison and can give a nasty stomach ache for a while as well as these intense fevered dreams. (just kidding folks...I have no proof that Paul ate peyote to pen this write)
Take care,
Sherry

Reviewed by Nordette Adams
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
WOW! Paul, Poe could not have done better. Wonderful swirl of rhyme entangling horrific, effective imagery. High impact narrative. ~~Nordette

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
My first read of you, I think. Anyway, first time I have read anything quite like this piece of literary expertise. You are a saga man, you are. I like your style. The bit about your car? Inspiring.

Reviewed by Felix Perry
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
Paul as usual your macrabre style scars the brain with such vivid images that I am glad it is day light and not evening and dark. Kate is right you defiantely seem to bridge or build bridges from one time zone to another parallel one maybe, but totally different. Great write Paul.

Boppa Felix

Reviewed by Kate Burnside
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
Fantastic hook between the past and the present with the inclusion of the line about your car, Paul! I can so believe in this portrayal. There is little doubt that, at points of particular physical carnage, death and destruction, a spiritual oppression broods, I believe, which can produce a tangible and on-going menace. So-called "accident blackspots" are the modern-day equivalent, perhaps... or maybe I'm just suprasensitive! And yup, that steel at the throat was a bit more than the wet-shave blade on a Monday morning, huh?! Chilling and intriguing in equal measure... dare I say "looking forward to more?!" It's like you bring everything back to life... not in a comforting way, though, but that is, perhaps, how such bloody episodes in history should be remembered. TY seems the wrong thing to say, too, but I think you know what I mean! :)) Kate xx

Reviewed by L. Figgins
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
This is a metaphysical and historical bloodfest. The imagery keeps us rigid in our spots, as we can't stop reading, even though the horror turns our stomachs. When we are led to beleive it is only a dream-the dream, in reality, is that the dreamer is dreaming his death which he faces with a shock of recognition. Outstanding!!

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes
Reviewed on April 29, 2005
This is thee most haunting and scary piece of history I have ever read....you can stand proud today for writing this master piece Paul!!
You took me right in and the imagery became so vivid to me I could smell and taste blood!!
Then I realized I was chewing the inside of my mouth reading this and that was were the taste of blood came from!!
Most powerful story poem indeed!!

Love Tinka


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