"azkaban" poems
Dark, thin figures
floating in the sky
eating away every bite of happiness
no enough time to let out a cry
letting the darkness close in
until you're hollow
they are free
with no one to follow
*I am emotionless, I will consume you
I dance on the grounds of Azkaban
no eye sockets, a hollow mouth and scabbed grey skin
Allow me, to come closer
and give you a kiss*
My very existence seems to displease you
you alter the air with negativity
I shall fight you back
*But I have no limbs!
I hover above the ground
I will through you in an ocean
so deep
that you cannot swim*
I won't let your negativity blind me
Quit boasting your inane abilities
Let me summon my Patronus
and I will rise with chivalry
E X P E C T O P A T R O N U M!
Watch my Dragon drive you away
You filth of an amortal creature
Now I shall eat some chocolate to cleanse the stain
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 2:16 AM UTC
think I know you
knew you
before blue jumpers
football with tennis *****
weeping knees and benches
and reeling off hymns
now look
at them singing the songs
of some not-quite-teen
mute squares of a life
apparently pristine
likes arriving like flies
before
it was packed lunches
a place named Azkaban
afternoon kwik cricket
colourless pix
on Bebo
now it's
a slurry of selfies
head-tilt lips-out
meme media excess
digital mausoleum
you've made your home
so choose
I'll leave you to it
beeline for the Apple store
record what you can't get back
speak up **** your planet
or run
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 5:57 PM UTC
Daughter of Death Eaters
By Gemini Lestrange
My name is Gemini,
I am the daughter of a death eater,
And another one,
I grew up only being told that pure-bloods were better,
And that muggle-borns should die.
But I was never given a reason why,
It was always, we are superior
We are better,
We are greater,
We are grander,
I could on with adjectives that they used.
I always would ask why,
I never knew my parents,
They are locked up and the key was thrown away,
When I was young,
I was told the tales of their brilliance,
But I would ask them
How could they be brilliant if what they did got them put in Azkaban?
I was cursed for that,
Because being a child of a death eater,
Isn’t all sunshine and daisies,
We are curse if we dare question our parent’s beliefs
The beliefs that are imprinted on our heads,
From the moment we can start to understand.
It’s all we ever knew.
And then when we turn eleven,
And get sent off to a school,
Where all the things we are told to hate are there,
And when people tells us are beliefs are wrong,
How are we meant to respond?
I’m not saying we are right,
Because we are not,
But choice do we have, but to keep telling our self’s,
That are parents were right,
Because the ones who could help us turn us away,
They give us no choice,
But to go down the path of darkness,
To join the people we despise,
You say it’s our fault,
That we could have chosen differently,
But you don’t understand,
How you made us believe that was our only choice.
I am the daughter of a death eater,
And I will not go down that path.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
Here comes the night and the night alone
With no stars to bring with her
But only the darkness of hers and hers alone
No moon to at least borrow a little shine
From the sun
Here comes the night and the night alone
In her darkness I’ll surrender
I’ll scream and shout
Let these tears fall down like rain
But I just can’t stop
There’s nothing wrong for being mad
For in her darkness I’ll surrender
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 6:36 AM UTC
a wodge uh Wrigley’s
‘ard an knobbly on thuh underside
uh desks
shufflin’ tuh DJ Caspar
in thuh ‘all
unduh thuh gaze uh
year three’s
it were
packed lunches,
dislodging mi brace
from thuh roof of mi mouth
like extractin’ a tooth,
scoffin’ bars uh white chocolate
years-old Blu-Tack
stamped black intuh carpets,
grey plastic-y chairs,
writin’ learnin’ objectives,
underlinin’ dates
with shatterproof rulers,
I upgraded tuh a pen
in year four
same time
remember listenin’ on the radio
in Scottish Clark’s mobile
when it wuh Ingland v Brazil,
summer uh ‘02,
thuh likes of Sheringham, Beckham
in audio only, no picture,
and thuh TA came in
‘alfway throo a lesson,
said ‘we’re out’
and the time
I cort that cricket ball,
dived and it stung mi hand,
a crimson-drizzled palm,
throbbin’ ring
and the time
we played football wi’ tennis *****
and I blurted intuh a trio
uh eager classmates,
a tumble-shirt compote,
knee flecked wi’ grit, mi own spit,
skinny whispers uh blood
and thuh time
I plagiarised Potter
around Azkaban,
got a Woolies notebook,
ragged Pritt-Sticked cuttins’
of Watson in the pink ‘oodie,
but it wuh the seed
for thuh next decade and more,
standin’ up,
tellin’ a story,
somethin’ or othuh
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC