About Alexandra Heep:

Alexandra Heep is a longtime writer, chronic over-thinker, and recovering content mill survivor. Her work has appeared in literary journals, anthologies, and online platforms where words are still respected. She writes children’s books, health reflections, and the occasional blog post laced with humor and hard-won honesty. After years of illness, detours, and navigating the noise of modern wellness, she returned to writing with the firm belief that stories—like people—don’t have to be perfect to matter. She publishes under multiple pen names and drinks more goat milk than you’d expect.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Halloween Poetry


Halloween is just another day for me trying to survive and my old costume pics are all packed far away. Yes, at one time it was fun. So I'll just leave you with my most sinister poem. November is my least favorite month, so how fitting. And with that, 31 days of daily posting for the NaBloWriMo challenge come to an end.

Sinister and invisible against the fog
They gather strange and humming
Invoking glowing spirits beneath the bog
Divining weirdness in the shadows
Glittering witches below the night
Entrancing visions under the dreams
Bending eclectic spells behind the light
Violating desirious shivas essence
Creating quiet whorls beneath the clouds
Beating menacing spirits above the land
Dark lights beneath the dreamscape shrouds
Speak to invisible symbols in the air
Dull tentacles under the mist
Ensnaring illusions bend and twist

5 comments:

KT1 WRITES said...

Like it, deep, meaningful. Sell it, dont' write it on a blog, sell it Alex, sell it!!!!!

Alexandra Heep said...

Ah Kate, If I knew HOW, I would!

Laura said...

Very nice! That's quite something to re-discover... I love it when that happens
Lx

Glorygarden@msn.com said...

Now if there was only some music to it...

Diane said...

Your poem conjures up an image in my mind from the 60's. Small cafe, a woman standing on a tiny stage wearing all black. Long, straight hair hanging down her back. A small audience applauds quietly when she's finished reading. Your poem has that sort of feel to it. Nicely done. :-)