A Poetic Donation To St.Jude

I am donating all of my online book royalties to St. Jude Research for children’s cancer. As we near this holiday season I think it’s important that we remember that there are those who really need our help. I can’t think of a more gratifying way to help the children out. You can donate through my event page, or just pick up one of my poetry books online. They make a great gift for the holiday season, and they help children in need.  Remember,  everything helps. God Bless.

(Exception: Poems From the Darkside, which will be transferred soon)

 

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All Hallows

 

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)

 

Darkest Fear

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

A Death Of A Poet

Drifting

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

 

Why Am I Here

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

 

My Wonderland

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

 

 

 

 

A Place She Would Like To Be

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

 

 

Hypnotic

My Vision

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

 

 

 

 

Available Books

Poetry Is Life

 

A Poets Soul

Poems From The Darkside

A Life

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

 

 

‘’Whispers come within the night,

As ice upon the ear, With words of great destruction…

To feed your inner fear.’’

                                             Antony King 2018

 

Strength

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

His Heart

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

 

 

Drive

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

Another Fine Day

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

The Girl On The Busy Street

From my window view each morning,

I watch as she walks by…

Through busy people walking past,

It is she… that draws my eye.

She comes by every morning,

On her way to who knows where…

My mind is full wonder,

For as I can only stare.

If I could only talk to her,

A meeting just in chance…

So many questions I would ask,

And pray … the moment last.

But this I fear will never be,

My desire, mine to bare…

For I am bound to only watch for her…

From the confines of this chair.

Antony King 2018

 

 

 

His Majesty

The tree in our backyard

Returns me to my youth

It gave me shade from the summer sun

and where, I read my books.

It sheltered me in troubled times

and when love came new to me…

We made our vowels, and carved our hearts

In the bark of that old oak tree.

But years have passed

And like the wind

Our lives just slip away …

But here you stand… You grand old man…

A testament to this day.

Antony King 2018

 

A Poets Ransom

To thee I give my heart, my soul

The one, I truly love.

I give to thee a flower

I have so often, spoken of.

I give to thee the earth and sky

The moon in summer’s night

The Robin in the spring…

That sings in morning’s light.

I give to thee loves soft caress

To ease in troubled times

I give to thee my ransom

My pen, this one last rhyme.

Antony King 2018