Some Poe-etry (Continued)

Good morning, Veillee readers! Today we bring you a lovely pair of Poe-inspired poems to compliment this mid-winter Wednesday.

Enjoy!

THE CLOCK
By Jessica Ray

The clock on the wall keeps ticking, ticking,
And with each beat it is slowly picking
Away at my dark soul.
For it knows when my time has come,
That I shall return to where I came from --
The ugly, cold dirt.
Then no longer will I hurt.
But the clock on the wall keeps ticking.
Ticking.


ENTOMBMENT
By Francie Hemmings

Bury me,
In the weight of you,
In folds of cotton and feathers.
Bury me low in the curls from your head
And whisper things only we know.

Bury me.
On a hill of green,
Near a brook, and a tree full of dew.
Bury me down, my forehead to yours,
In a pine box made for two.

Bury me.
Tightly and firmly
So the sea in your heart
Does not toss me out
When that change in your glance stays for good.

Bury me,
And all of me,
Every last inch of my soul.
Bury me
So I may never see
Your hand in the hand of another.

Bury me.
Bury me deep where no one shall find me,
Not Desire nor Love nor Affection.
Bury me standing in the walls of a crypt
Where the bones of those passed will remind me –

Some things, at least, do last.

Bury me.
In Hades’ dark lair
Where sunshine may never enter.
Where even he, and his flowery queen,
Will look on my face and have pity.

Bury me,
And all of me,
Every last inch of my soul.
Bury me
So I may never see
Your hand in the hand of another.

Jessica Ray is currently based in Knoxville, Tennessee, where she loves to cook with her daughter, spend time with her husband, and visit Starbucks far too regularly. 

Francie Hemmings is a student of Creative Writing at Brooklyn College and likes to Jazzercise in her spare time.