I recently sent out a really silly poem for shits and giggles to a horror poetry market and of course it got denied. Take my poem below and tell me what you think about it, either privately or in the comments!
It's literally just the second draft stages, so constructive criticisms welcome, just keep that in mind!
Among the dead wood
By A. Ramsay
Moody and mad, moons are full.
Beyond the scene where wolves roam
Are the darkened trees that line the lake
And my cabin on the shore is dark.
Inside the cabin smells of old books
And the musk you find in older homes.
So too you can see among each wall
Is at least a single shelf with ornaments.
Taken from friends and family long gone,
The objects erect like all else along the wall.
They make me sad to see each previous
Owner is dead. And I cry. Usually.
The problem is that this is a shrine
But I never add my own offerings.
Instead I see the gods’ cruel joke
And wonder what else they have taken.
If we turn a blind eye to the fates
They will play with your mind and
Take your memory away. They don’t
Just watch you, they wait.
Above the memories along the lake
Is a single tree that I adore. It stands
On the spot where my daughter was held
By my mother, the first time, twenty years before.
But now I’m here and I’m lying on wood,
The old rustic floor I installed myself.
And above me stands tall with a knife brandished high
A twenty year old, who wants me to die.
And without any electricity or any light
The woman again swings the knife, knife, knife…
And my abdomen bleeds through holes on each side
I’m sorry the treatment failed at this time.
In the pain and suffering I’m still myself
There’s no adrenaline for me, just like when
I birthed her for two dozen hours. But this time
She takes and won’t get anything back.
In the future she might look at this time
And be scared of my thoughts, so despite
Her not being herself-I reach to her and touch her leg,
“I’m sorry my dear that things ended this way.”