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wolfshadowwhispers

'n venster na 'n ander wêreld

Sleutelwoord

Vampire

Kissed

The chills of night set in
time for an awakening
the cold porous, beneath my skin
my coffin opens, time to begin Lees voort “Kissed”

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mistress…

Mistress,
be the flame that warms my cold cold heart,
be the darkness at night on my skin,
be the kiss on my toes even my wart,
be the chill down my spine unseen…
Lees voort “mistress…”

Devotion

Come cover me with your emotion
Love burns the candle of devotion
Free the fire let it consume me
Your willing slave Lees voort “Devotion”

No new dawn for me

woven are the days into night
broken are the patterns devoid of light
dusk I begin to rise but for me, dawn has died
no new dawn for me just an eternal night

waking from the shadows far from the day
outside I am sure the light shines
but its flames will just burn me away
it is not as if I turned from the sun

a sanguine kiss caressed my being
I became lost to light, into the night
days and blue sky flutter by
dusk is all I have, no new dawn for me

(c) 2016 Allen Simpson
hehehehe another vampire poem

Photo was taken at Irene Concentration Camp Cemetary
Photo by Hanneliese Bredell
Photo redesign by Allen Simpson

Vampyr

vampyr

come with me, my love
into my shrine of truth
let me show you, caress you
bring light to your darkness

the night only hold shadows
darkness are but myth to the Love Divine
be my queen and dance me in pale moonlight

slowly creeping away are the sadness
rhythm, whispers, beating out our names
in my cloak of mystery I’ll embrace you
seek me, dream me, feed with me the night

evil will begone, sadness will fade away
our shadows will make beautiful dance tonight
we are the wonder, creatures of the night…

(c) 2013 allen simpson
inspired by my photo

red sand

gaping like a rift between our world and a mist-shrouded mystery
the fountain calls it’s scarlet siren chant
and from it’s eye falls the waterfall
and mingles into the earth and gives birth to red sand

oh her neck, her pale skin, her essence
my hunger drives me like a harpy from Annwn’s shores
oh red sand on you I shall sip tonight my fill

that heart beat drums its last sonata
but soon I will make you mine again
to drink with me ever more
with new red sand to explore…

(c) 2015 allen simpson
another little vamipre poem from my spooky mind

soos wyn

000 01 20 wyn

donker is die nag
vol geheime wat terg en lag
middernag uur
die horlosie se wysers
staan stil en tuur
(die tik-tak stop)
en volop is die bang in die stille sang van
die wagtende nag…

(iewers roep ‘n uil haar kreet)
uit die donker verskyn ‘n gevreet
honger vir warm beloftes
wat vloei uit onverwagte wynkelke
donker is die nag
naby is die uur
vir hom om sy wyn te drink
‘n glasie rooibloed vir die vampier…

(c) 2015 allen simpson

ek was lus vir ‘n lekker horror gedig met subtiele betekenisse in die woorde. Die gedig is geinspireer deur The Vampire Diaries.

Episode 2 Wolfie en die geween en kreun

“Hallo Wolfie, jy was skaars?” vra jy opgewonde.

“Hello Wolfmater! My landlyn was af en dood soos ‘n mossie vir ‘n paar dae, maar ek her darem ‘n paar gedigte geskryf en boek gelees.” Ek krap my wolwe ken.

Jou ogies blink soos twee oggend sterre. “Wolf, wolf wat lees jy?’

Ek gryp ‘n boek en hou dit uit na jou om te sien.

Maggie Shayne se Twilight Hunger

Maggie Shayne se Twilight Hunger

“Dit is Maggie Shayne se Twilight Hunger. Dit herhinner my bietjie aan Nora Roberts se Circle trilogie… Dis ‘n lekker vampier romanse maar vir sommige wolfmaters is die boek ‘n bietjie te stoomerig…” sê ek met ‘n knip oog.

“Een van daardie Paranormal Romanse wat eroties is soos Kelley Armstrong se boeke?” Vra jy groot oog.

“Ja, maar die een is ‘n pragtige storie. Dit gaan oor Morgan, ‘n skrywer,  met skrywer’s blok wat ‘n klomp dagboeke in ‘n ou huis se solder kry en dink dit is ‘n boek wat ‘n mal man, Dante geskryf het wat dink hy is ‘n vampier. Dan soos jy die boek lees kom jy agter Dante is werklik. ‘n lekker boek om te leesen jy kan seks tonele verby blaai. Gelukkig is daar net twee of drie in.”

“En wolfie, se tog net jy het dit nie geskip nie!?” vra jy tergend.

“Die wolfie is ‘n gentleman, wolfmater, hy se jou niks,” se ek met lag in my stem.

“Sies Wolfie, ek sal niemand mos sê nie,” sê jy.

“Wat belangrik is, is nie die laken skoffel nie, maar die storie, en die storie was nogal oorspronklik en nie soos meeste hyg romanse nie.” Ignoreer ek jou.

“Haai wolfie, so jy lees sulke boeke?!” sê-vra jy.

“Ek is openminded genoeg ja, die wolf lees alles, hie hie hie”

“So is daar nog boeke wat jy voorstel om te lees in die genre wolfie?” Vra jy gretig.

“Wel, Nora Roberts se Cycle Trilogie is een, maar jy kan ook Kelley Armstrong probeer en vir die lekkerte Neil Gaiman se Anansi Boys as jy nie lus is vir seks tonele nie.” stel ek voor.

“Ek gaan nou eers tata sê Wolfie, jy het seker baie om in te haal na die week sonder ‘n landlyn.” groet jy

“Glo my wolwemater, te veel, maar ek sal van my gedigte ook nog deel dalk later vandag. Tata mater,” 

Jy verdwyn soos ‘n vampier in die son… voor my lê nog ‘n boek en ek wonder of ek jou volgende keer van hom moet vertel.

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Wel, dit was episode 2 van:

wat lees jy

Dankie vir die inloer, kom kuier gerus weer. Daar is baie boeke om van te vertel.

Groetnis en lekker lees,

Wolfie

(c) 2015 Allen Simpson (Wolfie)

Ballerina and Blood

more than once she danced on stumps
her feet a bloody mess of blades
the theater floor filled with the corpses
of all those she danced upon for her part

to rise like a swan

she drank countless dry
like a vampress from a carpathian nightmare
her pink slippers in the obsidian black
vastness of space like a planet
creating her own orbit
and a false sun shining on her

she did not want this
but did it for mother
she did not want all this

but mother is a monster
and she will feed her blood

“For you mother I will be the dancer
until I become the bloodsucker you are”

(c) 2015 allen simpson

For Celeste, a dear friend…. thanks

Blutengel “Nachtbringer”

Video:

Lyrics:

Deep in our heart a fire will rise
This one is build from a million lies
How can we live in the land of the dead
Where everyone speaks but nothing is said Lees voort “Blutengel “Nachtbringer””

Sanguine Ex…

Beyond the pleasure and the pain
within the moment and its domain
the little touch of exquisite wonder
the little piercing hunger
when lips meet willing flesh
blood is drawn ever slightly
gentle, soft and lightly
from skin, pale, ever whitely

a moan erupts from pleasant lips
crooning for more gentle sips
two lovers in sanguine dialogue
one the donor-gift, willingly giving up
her sanguine nectar from her cup
the other, hunger-ridden
dancing to her secret scarlet song

the night never stops
a little eternity
evermore

(c) 2015 allen simpson

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