I wanted to write a bit of a scary poem about the bogeyman / sackman. I think the imagery needs some work on this poem, however the theme and essence of the poem is there. Thought I would share with you how I write. I generally write a first draft, such as, that contains the essence of the tale I want to tell in the poem. Then I will re-read it and create imagery, explore words, improve the flow and meter, add similes & metaphors, and generally just evolve it. I will share the evolution of this poem with you … so you get a little inside to how I write. Enjoy!
I lie awake tonight, for he is hunting
Once I was the hunted,
The night I was snared, fresh
Musky smells of dried blood & urine
Itchy hairs of this sack prickle my skin
No light, rocking against his back
Wide eyed I stare, crimson
Scares mark my friend
He doesn’t breathe, so
I hold my breath too
Bugs crawl under my clothes
Gnawing at my nerves,
Tasting the blood of the other
Boys mouth, and ear
A scream nearby stirs my thoughts,
Their voice is swiftly stilled
Footsteps approach, the bag opens
The night sky blankets the moon
A lifeless body collapses on me
We are lifted with ease, now moving fast
Dead eyes stare, I don’t want
To die, I will be good, too late
We have stopped, and turned
Upside down we fall
Cascading down like a rockslide
My body lands heavily on the dead
Atop of me my friend falls
He doesn’t move, he is silent
His eyes are closed, I can’t
An old man walking in shadows
At his feet I meekly grovel
“Ye shall keep” he mutters
Now each night he hunts
I lie awake, waiting to hear
The sullen thud of his meal
Each thud means I live another day
Each meal I eat I see
I see dead eyes staring
Bugs drinking bloodied ear
I taste the gristle of pointed fingers
Ma warned me of serving him
I chose to ignore her, now
Pale skinned I slave for him
For he is the Saccragast