Halloween Night

Skeletal Tree

SKeletal Tree – photo by Wild Thing

Witches ride wild
Under moonlight
They fly on brooms
To Goblins delight

Oddly shaped gourds
With gruesome smiles
Light the way for
Jack’s weary miles

Bats fly above
Owls hoot below
Eerie noises
Walking slow

Down the road
In the haunted manse
Spectral visions
Do a macabre dance

At the boneyard
The gate groans
Spirits singing
Their ghostly moans

Wind picks up
To add its howl
In harmony with
The hoot of the owl

Shadow shapes
Are monsters waiting
To grab you quick
Your fear pulsating

If you find yourself
Filled with fright
Have no care
Tis Halloween Night

Wild Thing ©October 14, 2107

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The Legend of “Stingy Jack” (Where Jack O’Lanterns Came From)

Stingy Jack

Stingy Jack – digital art by Wild Thing

People have been making jack-o’-lanterns at Halloween for centuries. The practice originated from an Irish myth about a man nicknamed “Stingy Jack.” The Irish brought the tradition of carving pumpkins into Jack O’Lantern to America. But, the original Jack O’Lantern was not a pumpkin. Pumpkins did not exist in Ireland. Ancient Celtic cultures in Ireland carved turnips on All Hallow’s Eve, and placed an ember in them, to ward off evil spirits.

Stingy Jack, a blacksmith by trade, was a miserable old drunk, who took pleasure in playing tricks on just about everyone; family, friends, his mother and yes, even the Devil himself. One night he invited the Devil to have a drink with him. During the evening together, the Devil in his vanity, was showing Jack how he could transform himself into anything he wished, first a barstool, then bird, and so on.

After a time, true to his name, Stingy Jack didn’t want to pay for his drink, so he convinced the Devil to turn himself into a coin that Jack could use to buy their drinks. Once the Devil did so, Jack decided to keep the money and put it into his wallet next to a silver cross, which prevented the Devil from changing back into his original form.

Oh, how the Devil yelled at Jack. Cursing and telling Jack to let him go. Jack eventually freed the Devil, under the condition that he would not bother Jack for one year and that, should Jack die, he would not claim his soul. Desperate to gain freedom, the Devil agreed. Opening his wallet, Jack let the Devil out.

The next year, the Devil arrived as promised. Jack agreed to follow him if he would only climb up into an apple tree and bring him an apple before he go with the Devil. So, in this way, Jack tricked the Devil into climbing into the tree to pick an apple. While he was up in the tree, Jack carved a sign of the cross into the tree’s bark so that the Devil could not come down until the Devil promised Jack not to bother him for ten more years.

Soon after, Jack died. As the legend goes, God would not allow such an unsavory figure into heaven. The Devil, while upset by the trick Jack had played on him kept his word not to claim his soul, and would not allow Jack into hell.

“But where can I go?” pleaded Jack.

“Return to where you came from!” the Devil snarled.

Windblown and lost in the dark night, Jack pleaded with the Devil to give him a way to light his way. The Devil, wishing to get rid of Jack, threw him a glowing ember from the fires of Hell. Jack put the coal into a carved-out turnip and has been roaming the Earth with ever since. So, if you see a light in the far off distance wandering here and there on All Hallow’s Eve, tis Stingy Jack roaming the countryside.

The Irish began to refer to this ghostly figure as “Jack of the Lantern,” and then, simply “Jack O’Lantern.”

In Ireland, people began to make their own versions of Jack’s lanterns by carving scary faces into turnips or potatoes and placing them into windows or near doors to frighten away Stingy Jack and other wandering evil spirits. Immigrants brought the Jack O’Lantern tradition with them when they came to the United States. They soon found that pumpkins, a fruit native to America, make perfect jack-o’-lanterns.

Wild Thing

Bricks

Crumbling

Crumbling – photo by Wild Thing

Walls built

Brick by brick
Through
Hard lessons
Heartbreak
Deception

Crumbled
In one night

Left down
All sides open
Believing
Trusting

The world
Has not evolved
Deception
False faces
Still exist

Brick by brick
The walls
Are rebuilt
This time
Re-enforced

Stopping
Head rests
Brick pillow

For a moment
A wish

Starting over
Brick by brick

Wild Thing ©May 16, 2017

Spirit Freed

Villagers gathers
All come
Mourning begins

Honoring
That life

No matter
How meager
Or great

Sending it on

Old loves
Grudges, debts
Die with it

The Spirit
Now free
Of pettiness

Through
Laughter,
Song, stories,
Love
Fills
Empty hearts

Wild Thing ©July 29, 2017

3 am

darkness

darkness – photo by Wild Thing

3:00 a.m.
darkness
      . . . truth
               has nowhere
                         to hide

Wild Thing ©2017

My Daughter

Light in Dark

Light in Dark – photo by Wild Thing

My darling girl
If I could
I would bear
This sadness
For you

Comfort
I would offer
With open arms
Healing your
Bruised heart

As I hold you
Crooning softly
Telling you
Of your ancestors

How the pain
You feel
Not different
Than the women
Before you

Those tears
In your eyes
Are tears of
Countless others
Stifled at night

Whispered advice
I would give
Borne of wisdom
From these
Strong women

In your veins
Flows courage
Tenacity . . . Power

When adversity
Or death calls
The backbone
Of your heritage
Will be there

Close your eyes
See them
Standing firm
Behind you

Callista, Elizabeth,
Veronica and Ruth
Margaret, Bridget,
Mary and Frances

These women
Keened their loss
Then stood up
Pushed on

You . . .
are never alone
With you
They stand
Forever

This heritage
This lineage
Of endurance
My daughter
Is my gift
To you

Wild Thing ©August 3, 2017

The Legend

The Legend

The Legend – photo by Wild Thing

Peddler’s box drops
Wares spill out
With a smile
She helps him

They visit
Once done
She turns to go
He stops her

A gift he says
For her help
She declines
He insists
She accepts

On a small chain
Pure white
Beautiful … rare
Arctic fox tail

He attaches it
To her right shoulder
Stroking it
She thanks him

Upon her return
Whispers begin
What does it mean
This white tail

Her man
Lifts it
Smiles at her
Resumes his duties
She sits quietly
By his side

As the days pass
Animal tails
Appear everywhere
Squirrel
Raccoon and
Red fox

On others
Left shoulders
Some on waists
But no White
She laughed

No one asked
Why
They just did

She wondered
Should she
Shave her head
Would they

Wild Thing ©June 4, 2017

Finding My Voice

Finding My Voice

Finding My Voice – by Wild Thing

I am proud to share with you, the announcement of my first book: Finding My Voice. It’s a Collection of what I consider to be my best poems, paired with some of my photos that have been digitally altered by me.

It’s printed on white paper and the art is full color that has a slight gloss to it. It was my goal to create something unique that would be at home on your bookshelf or your coffee table.

The poetry is some works that have appeared here as well as some that is new. It is my hope that you enjoy it as much as I did putting it together for you.

Get your copy today: Finding My Voice by Wild Thing

Wild Thing

Swamp Witch

Swamp Witch Dwelling - photo by Wild ThingDeep in fog
Surrounded by water
A silent
Dwelling tilts
On rickety stilts

Broken steps
Lead to a missing
Front porch
While flotsam
And jetsam
Float underneath

One thinks
It is empty
Legend says not

They say
In these parts
Go when
The moon is full
You will find
The Swamp Witch

But beware
You must know
The secret signal
Else nothing
Will change

Two barn owls
Their clicks
And screeches
Warn her
And tell you
To go away

Should you
Still go forward
Without the
Magick signal
You will regret it

For then
The witch’s
Most powerful
Protector appears

Toads, crickets
All, go quiet
Owls on a branch
Air heavy
Even the moon
Seems to hide

As the dark
Becomes black
Two blazing eyes
Will freeze
Your blood

Final warning
A loud roar
Last chance
Give the signal
Or . . .

Wild Thing ©May 7, 2017