28

We crash onto the ground
And all is silent, except, the rustling of leaves,
The disquietude in my heart.
And all is sweet, except, the taste of tobacco
Mingling with the cooling air.
And all is calm, except, the teeming of pestilent thoughts
Of your salacious smile.
And all is bright, except, the rapid-darkening night
as our lips lock...




Then I awake.


© Florence Challender 2011

27

The night blossoms as it claims back its fair lady,
O silent companion of mine...
She treads soft-clad, pawing cautiously the unfamiliar stage,
The pallor of the spotlight.

The whip of a bat's wing is her orchestra,
The strangled call of a bird frozen in flight,
Warns her prey to retreat into their hollows,
The moon turns away with grieved countenance.

Her eyes glow like a fire replenishing itself; the eyes of a huntress!
And her coat is as grey as the smoke that smothers,
Her body stops corpse-still,
But her tail so expressive, betrays her...

Yet when morn comes she is no longer betrothed to the darkness,
She stretches drowsily along the windowsill and rumbles contentedly,
Beguiling me with glass-green eyes; not of malice or envy,
But a rare kind of trust, a treasured love.


© Florence Challender 2010

26

When, banished is the day
I fall to Nocturne's cradle of unrest,
a shroud of white noise befalls me.
And your voice, indecipherable, although-
vociferates in my head...and leaves me cold
And your face, the fragility of your smile
half-obscured by memories decaying into fiction.
Oh! I swore I heard this voice before
and beheld this face!
On the wrong side of heaven,
where the cruel-hearted angels are exiled to
with wings of a raven which has frolicked in the snow.
And your eyes like chalcedonies, flashed back at me
drinking in the bitterness I thought only I could see.

© Florence Challender 2010

25

No death bed convert shall I make,
The heretic soul in me would only baulk at the prospect
These eyes have swallowed too much truth and the twinkling of faith has long expired.

No, I shall shirk no shame of my last ill-spent moments
Nor shall I deplore my trespasses,
For my neighbours are as Godless as I.
I shall quell all thoughts foreboding to wander to a place “hereafter”,
Pray, what could it offer?

This life’s a false promise-
A world where rich feasts on poor,
woman treads in the shadow of man,
And love shrivels in the hands of fate.

No, I shall abandon him before he abandons me
I know I am expendable, but He?

I shall butcher my heart and serve it up on the altar-
A mere returning of the favour,
For all the last breaths snatched by his avaricious grasp.
I’ll beg him for his worst, for one of Gabriel’s own to smite me down with a blow that could bring the castles of heaven crashing...

This is my exodus from a world in tatters;
Evil shall no more pluck the ripest fruits of Good’s labour,
As the lamb heart coils up with the dragons.

© Florence Challender 2010

24

Her love is a star so fragile it may burst,
the feverish glow of a lantern in the deepest dungeon,
illuminating my heart, when all else is cursed.
Her light becomes weary and flickers like a butterfly,
I oft fear our love will dwindle into cinders and die.
But still the candle burns brightly,
drips through the night.
Together, we could torch the sky.


© 2010 Florence Challender

23

Night's dark veil falls upon a couple's encounter on a glistening backstreet
the clatter of heels, the chime of laughter, peel off the jacket.
Too young and carefree, too consumed in passion to even blink
as Venus casts her shadow.
Creatures of the night awake!
The creeper,
we bid it farewell but still it returns, the ghastly blighter.
The cloaked one,
unidentifiable, slinks like a practiced predator and has hands that seize.
And the one that waits in slumber,
making neither sound nor movement
only sleeps and waits,
waits...
to drag them to their death bed.

© 2010 Florence Challender

22

Death in its complexity will wage war and rage
and whilst Eros persists, it's Thanatos who prevails
can't silence the skeptic that plagues the mind
life and its longevity stretched before my eyes.

"The casket calls, put this demon to rest!
A heavy-hearted sigh heaved from my chest
the poison that tricks my vision, the cynic that shrieks
all hope remains hidden while desolation creeps.
My mouth is stitched shut to stop stupid words leaking
reduced to nothing but a willow weeping...
too much love carelessly discarded, too many fantasies entertained
I crumble into depravity and my soul is stained."

Death whispers to me in his dulcet tones
of a world underground for those whose life has left their bones,
a place where the restless sleep.
His cold breath on my neck causes a shiver to slither.
I long to reach out in a sombre embrace
his icy hands relieve me of life's lingering trace,
I breathe in his cloth of cobwebs and he closes my eyes,
no longer a spectator to life's horrors and lies,
as he lies me down on his soil-lined bed.

Death in its finery and splendour is all I could ask for
as I crush velvet between my fingertips and examine the well-polished wood.
So much time laid aside to honour my end,
for in this my eternity I shall spend.


© 2010 Florence Challender

21

Tell me, if you will, if I've failed... for caring not enough?
A string of hearts trampled upon
spat words of affection with nauseous disdain,
such feelings surely spawn from weakness?
I sought gratification in flesh, in vein
"swill down the guilt and lament tomorrow"
And how soon tomorrow comes...

I tried to resist like man delays death
but my bark had no bite against your raging light,
how you softened a heart unflinching
and blinded my wandering eye.
But to have so naively thought you felt the same
now it's my heart that's taken to the slaughter
won't you rinse me down of love's bloody shame?
Tell me, if you will, if I've failed... for caring far too much?


© 2010 Florence Challender

20

Oh flesh soft and tender
white as a winter's offering,
cold as the snow that hardens the Earth's crust
auburn strands twist, beaded with silver
frames a face so fair, lips paled by Frost's kiss.
Head adorned with a crown of thorns and curling petals,
eyes spill innocence, stone grey but sparkling
a blackened tear leaks..

Strength in those features, alight in the flame's warm glow
but still the curvature of the cheeks, the body
handle with care.
The dress that clings, a heavy heart beat drumming through
breath catches with fear, her chest hovers
cotton wrinkles around her thighs, brushes her soft arms
her raised skin tingling with the cool night breeze,
you burn to touch her.

But you must not be fooled!
The mouth too wide hides teeth newly constructed
to tear the flesh from the bone,
to sap life, to squander it in an instant.
She will beckon you and you will chance it
and when fresh blood trickles down her porcelain skin,
you will become the unsuspecting lover
the first skull on the pile.

© Florence Challender 2009

19

Rumpled bedsheets, a candle sheds a tear
rose from lover lies on the floor, a saccharin gesture rots
a yellowing novel sits, its words taking seed in her mind.
She whimpers, a solemn sigh escapes
her face a canvas with a flourish of Victorian scandal
jet ribbons snake over every ivory curve,
the night resting heavy on her shoulders.

A silhouette pours through a crack of curtain,
and the dust is lifted
a cloaked figure is poised, sinister with a touch of elegance.
Misplaced, he belongs elsewhere- a graveyard or morgue
he arches his spine and closes in, pushes back the cloth. Revealed!

Pale and emaciated, what dark eyes convey...lust, thirst, hunger
pearly blades, blood stained- a chance mutation?
draws back his coarse, blue lips.
Starved of love after a lifetime of death,
his heart lies in a gutter and drips.

Her eyelids snap and bones tighten
but still sparks of excitement fly,
he beckons her with dexterous fingers which dance along the cotton
and lace.

She pushes air from her chest and turns her head,
too inviting as her neck is pressed.
"Close my eyes to the true ugliness of mine life!" she cries
he penetrates the exterior and dark red leeches from dark red holes
she sighs at the pleasure as she's maimed,
age old and Medieval, thought to cure a victim's pain.
She drinks bad blood, black and viscous...

The infection seeps in, an ancient sickness spreads
tearing nerves like silk thread, rewiring, changing the imprint
and starting anew.
Her heart sinks, defeated.

Burning cravings spawn from a diseased soul
a desire to drink, she licks her lips lustily.
"The living are like clockwork, too mechanical, too human" she thinks
"Now it's the dead's time to reign".


© 2009 Florence Challender

18

Do you remember when we first met?
A brief encounter, barely an exchanged glance beforehand
I can remember the bite in the air, that familiar stench
I wasn't looking my best, but then, neither were you,
Hung up on nicotine cravings and sleepless nights

I don't know what possessed me, pride or fear?
My heart sank like my feet
I'm sorry.

Decades passed and I still can't rinse away the shame
It stays locked in the drawer,
The one with the strong whisky and dusty sepia photgraphs.
My mind plays it over and over, like an old reel of film
flickering behind my eyes.

I will not hesitate, as we sit back to back so my eyes do not
meet with your stony expression.
I am about to meet a fate less heroic than yours
I am deteriorating fast,
Each breath is becoming more laboured
Years on the pipe to ease my nerves

I want to sit a while, absorb the view
Perhaps my last chance before I am clamouring on Hell's door.
Do you remember when we first met?
Because I remember it like yesterday

© 2009 Florence Challender

17 (Acedia)

Sloth's stranglehold
depression,
a curse and a crutch.
It is a vision of life through a mud speckled monocle.
Pandora's box unveiled.
Dark-winged parasites take refuge in my head
but to stimulate my apathy,
is to place me in the ground.
Inside my monster, robbed of its soul
lies a sleeping clown.


© 2009 Florence Challender

16

Your love, you said
was fatal
it engulfed its recipients,
sucked them in.
Your passion, you said
was furious
a tempest,
with static electric fingertips.
Your lust, you said
was intoxicating
the dependable trickster
left them in ruins.
My lust, I said
was bottle bred
my passion, I said
was momentary.
But my love, I said
was you


© 2009 Florence Challender

15

Instinctively my fingers are outstretched,
poised to touch the rosiest apple
to tear the fruit from the loom
to feed my appetite for curiosity.
I take,
I eat.
It's flesh is bittersweet
it's bite tastes of my decay
the liquor of knowledge, a thorough depressant
trickles from my tainted lips.
My sin falls from my hand
and lies on Eden's jewelled floor
Oh I am awash with gluttonous guilt
stolen innocence,
now I am living on borrowed evil.


© 2009 Florence Challender

14

Tearing off the flesh to find,
a hidden beauty lurks inside.
Finding peace in my natural state
won't let my skeleton go to waste.
Your laws of beauty cost their lives
reason dies but aesthetics survive.
You call it fashion I call it crime
if this looks good,
then the world is blind.
How many tears to wash away
the stains I wear from yesterday?
I hunger after one throbbing desire
a phantom body draped in attire.
Your laws of beauty cost their lives,
reason dies but aesthetics survive
How many days 'til you erase
the very bodies
that shot them to fame?


© 2009 Florence Challender

13

Crimson is seeping into her cheeks,
her crown of flames licks at her face.
She watches the siren, she aches "How she
speaks with such ease, how men fall at her feet
her moves are hypnotic, but her smile speaks of sin
and he's mine!"
Her topaz eyes flicker, dissolve into lime
she can taste the bitterness in her words
as she contemplates the crime
she can feel the hot, red rapids hurtling through her veins
R-A-G-E
Choking on her eagerness to spit her acidic words
reeling as her nerves are racked, her spine shakes
H-A-T-E
Her predatory string goes with a snap, "How I
slink with such ease, how prey fall at my feet
my eyes are hypnotic, my lips tingle with sin
and he's mine!"
She marks Cupid's demise as the arrow strikes
with a skillful slice through the air,
to lacerate the flesh of the unsuspecting target
and bring her to a sanguine end
D-E-A-T-H
As the room fills with hushed words of the carmine
spillage,
she looks at the lifeless corpse
and a single blistering tear falls from her eye
R-E-G-R-E-T


© 2009 Florence Challender

12

Sunlight dances on her ivory skin,
so smooth and cool to the touch
hair so thick and wavy,
a crown in all its glory.
Eyes so perfectly shaped
the gleam that never leaves them,
a body weaving in and out
one he can truly hold onto.
Limbs so long,
lips so strong
pursed, they ache to sing.
Features sculpted without fault
beauty immune to fading
grace which withstands
the gusts that glide over
the gold crested leaves.
She's an angel,
he can see her outstretched wings
stood beneath the shedding trees.
"It's such a shame," he thinks,
"that I fell in love with one
which cannot fall as well."

How she longs to reach out,
crack the case that is her grave
embrace the lust which calls from her
rusty vessels,
and feel a fire that knows no bounds.
Lull him with soothing words,
which will tumble from the carved mouth
that teases her.
Stroke the auburn hair which bounces
so freely,
gaze into the emerald eyes which shine
so readily,
and touch the flesh that wears the scars
of life.
"Alas!" she cries,
"what is my beauty if it
can't win me a man?
I'm locked in a mere existence,
a standstill stance."


© 2009 Florence Challender

11

Each pair of apathetic eyes is a slash to the soul,
nothing stirs inside these stone hearted statues
but another hit and this boy's spirit is slain
a victim of everything, whose efforts are in vain.
They make a mockery of him,
their mouths are spitting fire
he tries to reason, they won't relent
for evil doesn't tire.
As he lies upon the ground
with seeping wounds and weeping eyes
he longs to protest, to bring fury and flame
his rage is soft, a mere creeping cry
but he feels a torrent of anger gradually arise.
This emotion is destructive, if he could harness
its might and its power..
the audience will not leave this show unscathed,
their terrible taunting has left him enraged.
He brought a storm which tore through the night
corrosive acids which fall from the heavens,
a ravenous wolf and a venomous viper
children led to their death by the devil's piper.
He makes a mockery of them,
his sky is spitting fire
they try to reason, he won't relent
for justice doesn't tire.


© 2009 Florence Challender

10 (Invidia)

Oh envy, your dissatisfaction chokes me alive
I covet for that which does not exist
for true love and ultimate truth
and a sense of belonging in an unfamiliar world.
The object of my desire is the apple of anothers' eye
but in a world of idealistic expectations
surely I am not to blame for my malcontentment?
It's not a case of great ungratefulness
which blights this barren life,
for I am an inadequate being
and not only in their eyes.


© 2009 Florence Challender

9

I have memories which drift among the debris,
and painful realisations I cannot shift
I have guilt pangs which cause so much nocturnal
discomfort.
I have regrets which eat up every accomplishment,
I have wistful fancies that keep me blindly optimistic
and a realist that keeps me not grounded,
but underground.
I have terms I'm reluctant to come to
and dreams which have morphed into delusions,
that I like to escape into..
I have wars I could win with an axe through one eye
and wars I lost before the other side even tried.
I have nagging doubts which choose to resurface
and hatred that runs so deep
my wrath whimpers to be unleashed,
I'm in pursuit of vengeance
and Thor is no match for my thunder..


© 2009 Florence Challender