Somberly I sit
In the dim light of this room
Patiently awaiting…
for a sign from this my tomb.
In the shadow stands my deepest fear,
As if to loom in candles light…
Awaiting my last hour,
My fight, or final flight.
For in that desperate moment,
When it all comes crashing down…
For fate has finally found me,
It is there, I shall stand my ground.
Antony King 2022
Antony’s writing speaks to the heart. It’s personal, emotional, capturing messages about heartbreak, sadness, love, and life, all in a way that stirs the soul. Wonderfully honest and sometimes achingly mournful, and touching in ways that I fully comprehend, when a few verses can send chills running up one’s spine, then I believe that poet has accomplished exactly what he intended.
Thank you, Antony King, for offering us your soulful, moving, and beautiful poetry, and for producing such lovely words that will stick with me for many long years to come.
The moon is full
On this sleepless night
A time for all… to sit in fright.
Demons will dance, and witches will brew
While luring young souls to their fateful rue.
Beggars will play deep into the night
As crow take to wings… on an endless flight.
Goblins and ghosts will take to the air
Filling the night with a fearful despair.
Tricksters will play,
And doorbells will ring…
Giving a chill, to the dark autumn scene.
As candle gives light in a soft spooky tone,
As the carving of faces adorns darkened homes.
For nigh is this night so waited upon…
When spirits will rise, in hopes to move on
Sweet jubilation a feast to be sure…
For all hallows eve is finally here.
Antony King 2018
(Published By SpillWords Press October,31,2018)
I woke from late night slumber
To the sounds of a rusty door
My body soaked from fearful sweat
As like many times before.
The fear has overwhelmed me
As I do not dare to move
As I await the sound of footsteps
Closing nearer to my room.
A chill has consumed my body
As my breath now fills the air
As ice into a winter’s night
This cold… I cannot bare.
The steps are now upon me
As my door begins to move
Like a moment just before one’s death
My life becomes my tomb.
The door it melts before me
Unveiling darkest fear…
For my wife has now returned from work
And I my nightmare now is here.
Antony King 2018
Happy Halloween
I find myself a drift
Adrift upon a sea
A sea of endless pity
Like a drink that never runs dry.
This drink…
This drink called life.
Rolling on the evening tides
Drifting further out to sea
Away from anything…
Everything … Just drifting.
The sun it rises then it sets
Like a day upon one’s life
Coming…
And going…
Never ending
Still drifting away on the tide.
Antony King 2018
Published by The Rye Whiskey Review October, 18, 2018
This afternoon I walked to the corner bar
The smell of cheap booze
Cigarettes and perfume filled the air.
I see faces that I have seen so many times
But I do not know their names.
Names of empty faces
Friends so they say…
Buy them a drink and they will sit with you
And claim their love all the same.
I hate it in here.
But why do I come here…
For the booze or the fake friends.
Or perhaps I am just lonely
Living in this solitude I call comfort
Safe… my own set of rules.
But I don’t follow rules.
I hate fucking rules.
But why am I here?
I guess it is just out of habit…
Having to fill that temporary void
That void of human contact…
That I so often try to avoid.
Antony King 2018
The bitterness of winter chill
Clings to the windows pane
As I sit and ponder many thought
Of an existence lived in vain.
The barren plane of winters white
An ocean full of void
Carries forth on deafened ears
The words that go untold.
So, do not sing the songs of winters past
In its joyous jubilee
Or sing to me of magic
Gathered round an evergreen.
The listless bite of frozen hell
Extends the minds demise
For as I stare off once again
In my wonderland of blight.
Antony King 2018
She loves the smell of flowers
That spring brings to the air
She longs for summer walks
Free of grief, and great despair.
She longs to feel the warmth of sun
So gently on her face…
As she strolls along the cobblestones,
In some quiet little place.
Perhaps a street in Italy
With its painted frescoed walls…
Where gondoliers sing softly
Of love that lingers on
Oh, but spring in gay Paris
For amour it fills the air
As wild Irises, and lilies
Adorn the streets and fairs
But in truth where she would like to be
Is a place where love can grow
Without life’s stain of cruelty
In a world where she belongs.
Antony King 2018
A flower is just a flower
Or what one’s eyes perceives…
Some see it as an object
While others, see it differently
This morning as I arose
A scent of jasmine filled the air
A treasure I remember
Adorned my mother’s hair.
As robins sing their morning song
I walked in fields of green
In awe of all the wonder
In this majestic colored scheme.
As I walked I saw my father
Gently planting in his field
In hopes that grateful labor
Will bring him blessed yield.
My soul is ever humble
For this vision I have seen
I thank God in this moment
In my darkness that I see.
Antony King 2018
A Life
I dream of a life…
Where there is no stress
No screams in the night
Putting sanity to the test
I dream of a life…
That greats me each day
A smile or a hug
Guiding me on my way.
I dream of a life…[p’’p;
When the day finally ends…
That sleep will come easy
And this nightmare will end.
Antony King 2018
‘’Whispers come within the night,
As ice upon the ear, With words of great destruction…
To feed your inner fear.’’
Antony King 2018
Tell her not to worry,
As you wipe her tears away …
Kiss her softly on her cheek,
And keep her fears at bay.
Gently take her by the hand,
And lead her to the light…
Hold her in your warm embrace,
Protect her through the night.
For you… are her shining knight
Her strength she needs each day,
Never leave a doubting thought…
Or let her go astray.
Antony King 2018
Morning came this dreary day
As he struggled to arise
To some, this day would come and go
But today held no disguise.
Many years have come and gone
As days merge into one
The bitter taste… in forsaken prayer,
Still weigh with heavy tone.
With aging eyes, he takes to path
The same as years before…
Pausing briefly for a moment…
For some flowers she adores.
He walks in quiet solitude
No thoughts to cloud his mind
His journey is but, at an end
He makes the final climb.
Today his heart is full of joy
His life has been complete…
As he gently lays the flowers
Where his heart is laid in peace.
Antony King 2018
The headlights on this highway
Blind as they pass by
Of this empty stretch of loneliness
I drive on through the night
My mind is blank
My body numb…
There is nothing left inside
A weary soul… on open road
I am broken, still I drive.
Antony King 2018
The hour is late
For night has come
A time to rest…
Before another day dawns.
Sounds of the children
Soon will be here
As mothers watch over
Keeping them near.
The old man will come
With his bag full of crumbs…
He smiles and waves,
And watches the doves.
Folks will walk by,
and occasionally stay…
keeping me busy,
On another fine day.
Antony King 2018
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