The demon's basket

fear of loss

a calm lake hides
the anger and torment
underneath lurks
the monster
its hulking presence
ever near
under the bubbling brook
cries long the darkness
and pain
between the trees
sway gentle in the breeze
hands reach out
like phantom lovers
so quiet to steal
the soul as beauty sleeps
a smile on her face
he said he loved her
and she believes.

under the tremor of the midnight sky
the demon laughs
his basket at the ready.

it is only a matter of time
before her lover
disappoints her.

he is waiting
so he can add the pieces
of her shattered heart
to his growing collection -
the pieces slick and shiny
dark red blood beads
around
the dried and withered
cracked and splintered
smashed and bruised.

precious artifacts
the gems of
love's sweetness
fallen
gathered
tied up with a bow.

Reviews

[Chris]

This one leaves so many thoughts within me. It is easy to comment in agreement and essentially say nothing more than platitudes, but this once - just this once ...emotions run high - on both sides. Movies and music and books and poems expand on someones sense of what love is or at least could be. BUT why do we always assume both see the same way? or understand the same meanings? have the same continuous depths? Many deceive themselves, probably even more than the few that intentionally deceive another.

Many love and yet MUST change the other into someone else - INTENTIONALLY - to somehow make it all right and better? Many can't live with themselves let alone a partner. What is grown up? When is - grown-up? Tears when we hurt, oh yes - and lord how MUCH we hurt... but sometimes THAT hurt teaches us a needed view of what we thought a particular perception of love really meant to us after all...

Many thoughts still roil... was a good piece of demonology.

[Lyn Anderson]

What a thoughtful review. Thank you for taking the time.

[Chris]

You are the kind of writer I seldom find at the sidewalk cafes - but wish I did. Time would cease and customers would be left standing as the spiders wove their webs - our chair legs to sidewalks as the thoughts expanded.

[Lyn Anderson]

I am truly flattered.

[Chris]

More need to speak of their thoughts... and those words in turn would generate still more perceptions and questions... and personal insights.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

As always enjoyed the flow and pathos of your free verse. You capture emotion so well. Was not sure what to make of the final line though as her 'demon' would not tie up the pieces of her heart in a bow, and, at that stage, neither would she? Unless it symbolises her still trying to please him despite his treatment of her?

[Lyn Anderson]

For me, that is just the demon being mean.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Ok but I think he is more likely to be direspectful to the pieces of her heart?

[Lyn Anderson]

I think tying something up with a bow like that is disrespectful, like a sarcastic smirk.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

There are some out there that use love for sport and they instictively can pick out the weak ones that become their pray.

[Lyn Anderson]

I agree. That is very true. Thank you for reviewing this piece I resurrected tonight.

[The Rock And Roll Cowboy(REBEL WITH A CAUSE)]

Oh it was very much my pleasure :)

[Neville]

Respect, you are indeed a multi-faceted poet & I defy anyone who would try to pin you down or consign you to any particular literary box... N

[Daniel Sala]

What a beautifully Grimm's fairytale-like poem about love, or not love in fact, great imagery, a good read indeed.