Showing posts with label A. F. Stewart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A. F. Stewart. Show all posts

Sunday, 15 October 2017

#OctoberFrights Dark Poetry Corner


Welcome to final day of the October Frights Blog Hop!


Today I bring you my annual dark Poetry Corner, and a spotlight on my newly released book, Horror Haiku Pas de Deux. Oh, and a freebie. Enjoy. 


First a poetic teaser...



Second a spotlight...



Horror Haiku Pas de Deux by A. F. Stewart







In the shadows—voices.
Calling, screaming, moaning.
Countless tongues telling tales...
of Hell
of Monsters
and Unnatural Things

Come chase the dark words, fall into the spell of terror and sit with the poetic weaver as you watch the world burn. Horror Haiku Pas de Deux is a volume of poetry mixing horror with haiku and verse to chill your bones.
Poetic beauty lives forever with the undead.


Horror Haiku Pas de Deux is available all October for 99 Cents at


Smashwords  Amazon  Amazon Canada  Kobo  Barnes and Noble  iTunes 




Book Trailer




And now some poems...







He watches, he waits
Do you see him? He sees you.
Soon you will vanish


From Horror Haiku Pas de Deux
© A. F. Stewart
All Rights Reserved




Ever More


Tap, tap, come the raven,
no, it is not him
He flies far above the path
as the light grows ever dim

Flee, flee, into the woods
ignore the raven’s caw
Hear the silent monster march
to the cavern in the maw

Shush, shush, quiet now
the raven circles here
The Faerie Queen calls for you
and all that you hold dear


From Horror Haiku Pas de Deux
© A. F. Stewart
All Rights Reserved








The Sound of Their Breathing

I watch the world inhale, exhale
each fragile breath so slight;
simple to asphyxiate, faces turning pale
I watch the world inhale, exhale
dreaming how to make them quail,
to quiver in fear, to scurry in flight
I watch the world inhale, exhale
each fragile breath so slight



From Horror Haiku and Other Poems
© A. F. Stewart
All Rights Reserved






Play a Tune Nevermore

Eagles fly
from the labyrinth
of darkened halls
chased by ravens
and a mournful dirge.


© A. F. Stewart
All Rights Reserved



And lastly, the freebie... 

You can download my first volume of horror poetry, Horror Haiku and Other Poems from Instafreebie (no strings or conditions).

Horror Haiku and Other Poems





Well that's it for my Dark Poetry Corner and the October Frights Blog Hop. Be sure to enter our great giveaway and visit the other wonderful participants on this last day. Until next year!


October Frights Book Giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Drabble Wednesday: Broken Bits

Today on Drabble Wednesday, join me on an exploration of things broken, shattered, and abandoned...




Forgotten, But Not Gone

There is a room, at the top of an abandoned castle, the former pinnacle of the stronghold’s eastern tower. Years ago, it was a retreat, a sanctuary, a place of perfect magic.
Now the room’s interior is dusty, cold, and empty, with cobwebs clinging in the corners. The frame of a mirror hangs crooked on the far wall, shards of shattered glass still suspended on the casing. The mirror affirms an ending... to a story not told, but written in blood. Blood that echoes still.
For if you listen closely, a shadowed voice yet whispers, “Mirror, mirror on the wall...

~*~




Glitch

“I do not understand the directive. Please repeat the directive.”
The mechanical voice broke the silence of the room, followed by the faint whir of motorized parts as the android straightened to her full height. She touched her broken face plate. She looked down. Pieces of polymer porcelain littered the floor. She stared at her hands. They were scratched and stained.
“I do not understand the directive. Please repeat the directive.”
Her body twitched. Her hands squeezed at open air.
“I do not understand the directive. Please repeat the directive.”
But the dead human in the chair didn’t answer her.

~*~




Veracity

In the land of Ayrli, its people tell an ancient story of the Red Wasteland, of how its desert sands are littered with the bones of the Winged Gods. Of how these deities descended from the skies to annihilate the Kingdom of Ayrli, but only reaped destruction from the armies of the realm.
It is strange how time warps the truth.
Ayrli has forgotten they started the war, they’ve forgotten their betrayals, their broken promises. And worst of all, they’ve forgotten the survivors.
But we have not forgotten.
The dead will be avenged.
Shattered wings will mend and rise again.





© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved




Wednesday, 4 November 2015

Drabble Wednesday: Souls

Today on Drabble Wednesday, we whisper to the destroyer of souls…






The Soul Blade

The weight of blade felt like lead in her hand, not so much the ivory hilt or its metal, as the consequence in wielding it. Killing a man, she was used to that, but this dark magic…
She wondered how it felt, to be cut with the blade. To feel your life sliced from your skin and drawn into the dagger’s black limbo. She ran a finger along the metal.
How many poor souls are imprisoned there, hundreds, thousands?
She looked at the man tied to the chair.
I suppose one more won’t make a difference.
She swung the blade.

~*~

  

Ghost Ship

The tattered sails rippled in the wind, as if they sighed. A year past, this ship—the Sapphire Belle—left port to race the wind and tame the seas. Now it drifted, forever aimless with the tide, empty save for its ghostly echoes on moonlit nights.
For upon the full moon, when translucent feathers of light fell on deck, its crew of the dead stirred. Pulled from the hell where they condemned themselves, the sailors moved as in life, steering their wayward ship toward a home no longer attainable.  On these nights, the ship rejoined the world of the living.

~*~




 Soul Eater

The smoke and dust swirled, arising into barely corporeal form. The dark, androgynous figure moved forward, its vaporous edges mere wisps melding with air. It smelled of sulphur and wet earth, and a hint of apple. In its wake it dragged the still silence of oblivion.
For a thousand years it slept in dormancy, nothing to sustain its appetite, all souls of life drained and forgotten, every corpse rotted into the soil.
Now it waited patiently, watching the crew embark from the space ship. Soon it would dine on their essence, their souls. Soon their bones would join the rest.



© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved 



Saturday, 31 October 2015

Halloween Week: Step Into The Woods

Happy Halloween!






For this day of scare fests, we travel the forest path, far into the darkness…






Calling You

A single voice.
A sweetling voice.
A treble tone, and sing-song notes, of joy and giggling.
A voice to dance among the treetops and sing among the posies. A voice that calls, Come hither, come hither. It’s a beautiful day. It beckons and you will follow.
You will follow it off the safest path, and within the darkest woods. You will follow past the perfume scents and through the sharpest thorns. You will follow though the sun has set and the night is always met. You will chase the voice around the trees, and see them all appear. Their yellow eyes, their sharpened teeth, their fetid whispers in your ear.
And then the voice, that sweetling voice, that voice will call your name.
It will sing your song, your final song, and then your life will end
With a screaming voice.
Your single voice.





Buried Bones

I miss the warmth of the sunlight.
It is too cold and dark buried here beneath the earth.
I miss the sounds of laughter, of my sweet children’s voices.
Interred deep, I hear nothing save the scrabbling of mice and insects.
I miss the moon, I miss the stars, but not the night.
Without eyes, I live in darkness.
I miss the smell of perfume on my skin. I miss my skin.
Would that I could turn back time.
Would that I could live again.
But I am nothing but murdered bones.
Trapped and forgotten under the forest soil.



© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved





Thank you for joining me in this week long celebration of Halloween fun.
Have a great and scary day!

And remember, as a Halloween treat, you still have until midnight October 31st
to download both books in my Killers and Demons series for free on Smashwords. 

Check them out here:


Friday, 30 October 2015

Halloween Week: Rebirth


Something’s Coming…






Rebirth

Evening raindrops clung to a broken spider web, and fallen leaves held water like tiny crumbling cups. Silence draped across the forest; the animals fled at sunset when the sky shed its first tear. Even the carrion birds flew away, and the rodents scampered deep down into their holes.
The animals knew.
No moon graced the shrouded sky, and no starry luminosity scattered the inky air swallowing the trees. Fog crept like silky spiders, thick and velvet over the ground, obscuring earth and flora. Grey met black and swirled, mingling, melding in a darkling kiss.
And the night waited.
It waited in stillness, the breath of air grave and expectant with longing. It waited cold and cavernous, as if time gave this occasion pause. And then… past the midnight hour it came. A faint noise from beneath the onyx soil. Scrabbling, scratching, fingernails in the dirt.
Digging upward.
The ground trembled, softly, gently, as if a lover’s touch caressed it. The wind sighed, dancing among the trees and twirling with the hoary mist. Slowly, slowly, the earth gave way, the soil parted, cracked, and a bony hand burrowed out from beneath the world. Then a shoulder, and a head, and the thin skeletal remains of what once was human.
It cried.
A hoarse, guttural pain.
It hungered.



© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved






And so ends today's Halloween fun.
Tomorrow is our last day of Halloween Week, with one last horror story.
I hope you'll join me, as we go for a final walk in the woods...


And remember, for a Halloween treat, both books in my Killers and Demons series
are free until midnight October 31st on Smashwords. 

Check them out here:


Monday, 26 October 2015

Halloween Week: Darkling Poems



Today we wax poetic, shaded in black…



First up a terrifying trio of my poems:




Shadow Vows

I walk in deathly footsteps,
through the cold, long halls
A ring of gold, upon my finger,
and secrets upon my heart
I can hear her whisper,
Turn your eyes away

Eclipsing wisps of grey
haunt those empty corridors
A veil of white, follows me
and my strangling ring of gold
I can hear her whisper,
Turn your eyes away

Darkness harrows my nights
echoing down barren hallways
Tainted vows consume me
sealed with my wicked ring of gold
I can hear her whisper,
Turn your eyes away


© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved




Into the Arms of Death

Sing that softest lullaby,
those strains of mourning dirge
that fare thee well goodbye
Sing that softest lullaby
Saddened notes, a broken sigh
and gentle tears you purge
Sing that softest lullaby,
those strains of mourning dirge


© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved





A Night in the Cemetery


A quiet evening and a soft wind, where the wisps of dried leaves and dust waft gently. A full moon cracks the darkness that settled like soot on cobblestones. The graveyard silence drapes in beauty and gloom…

Cold, pallid—lost soul
waxen moonlight flickers across
bones rising from graves


From Colours of Poetry
© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved




And here are some macabre selections from my guest poet, the talented Sean Theall.





"Whispers from Below"

Please my dear, you mustn’t scream.
You must lie still to conserve air...
stay calm. Don't let the darkness
envelope you, befriend shadows
and twilight sounds. It's how
the other half lives deep within
the ground.

If you can relax and hold your
breath keeping the nerves at
bay and overcoming death.

Talking back to an owls call
for company. Your heart thumping
and pumping in time. The container’s
walls that you are encased in are
closing in. Slowly losing your grip
on reality and losing your mind.

Hearing muffled speech through
the slats of wood. Listening very
close to get some clue on how
to possibly escape, and bring
back the color in your face
before it's too late.

Please be a good little
victim close your eyes
and breathe out a quiet
exhale, let the serum take
effect and let your dreams
carry you to hell.


Sean C. Theall © 2015




"Babies Breath"

Jack and Lily are not two
of kind but are connected
by love and family and
of one mind.

These little ones are
inseparable. Their fate
locked within a dream
Terrible, insane. running
around for a day of play.
Chasing each other through
their home. Making their
way to the bathroom,
standing by the sink
playing in the water.

I watch from a distance.
quickly glancing into the
mirror, a sticker with the
word "scream" appears.
in the blink of an eye,
an ear piercing shriek
comes from the bathroom.
Dashing in, the next sight
is a full bathtub with tikes
wrapped up in a shower
curtain.

Early lives dashed
innocent mistake,
stealing babies breath.
Innocent looks preserved
exhaling to the final act,
and the final act is... death.

© Sean C. Theall 2012




"Please Tale Spinner"

I have a request my dear.
Tell me something beautiful
and shocking as I get comfortable
anxiously waiting to hear.

Work your magic with the
typewriter or computer
keys. I am really picky but
I am confident you have
the skills to please.

How will you construct
my newest nightmare?
Hold my hand, please
cher, as I slowly slip
away...

Please go let me go
If I must; ok but let
my spirit stay.

To comfort and encourage
you to slash and hack through
the story. I do have a question,
"Do I want my body back?"

I do enjoy the quiet fireside
chats we have discussing story
and poetry structures, and our
characters' fates. Finish your yarn
before the midnight chime
rings. Before it's too late.

You are one of the best at
what you do. You have all
that you need. A nightmare
mind, paper, imagination
and the willingness to
bleed.

Sean C. Theall © 2015



And so ends today's Halloween fun.
Tomorrow I have a spotlight for the book, Everlasting: Da Eb'Bulastin

And remember, for a Halloween treat, both books in my Killers and Demons series
are free until midnight October 31st on Smashwords. 

Check them out here:



Sunday, 11 October 2015

October Frights Blog Hop Winners (And Some Poetry)



The wonderfully fun and creepy October Frights Blog Hop is done, and a grand time was had by all. I'd like to thank the magnificent Clarissa Johal for her stellar job as host, organizer, and writer wrangler.  I'd also like to thank my fellow authors and hoppers, for their tireless efforts, and their amazing blog posts. Their excerpts, tales and stories were entering and terrific.

And now on to the giveaway winners.


Originally I was only going to have one winner of the ebook prize pack, but I had such a good time I'm giving away two prize packs. The winners are:

Susan Voss

Fee Roberts


Congratulations!



And now I will end this October Frights with one last creepy goodbye...


Unhallowed Darkness

Sing the shadows
softly sleep
While the daughters
gently weep
Beyond the dark…
Beyond the night…

Stir the murky
mutely creep
With lost promises
calmly keep
Beyond the dark…
Beyond the night…

The wind, it whispers
wide and deep
The breath shall still
death will reap
Beyond the dark…
Beyond the night…


© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved 



If you didn't win my giveaway, don't despair.
The Beyond the Wail Giveaway from Xchyler Publishing is still ongoing.


Tuesday, 7 April 2015

Book Spotlight: Colours of Poetry

Today's the release day for my new book, Colours of Poetry!
Here's a spotlight to introduce it to the world.
Plus, there's a Facebook party, and a giveaway!


Colours of Poetry by A. F. Stewart

Light through a prism, and we see colour.

Colour is all around, enveloping our lives and feelings. Through tinted shades we see the world, with emotional ties that bind.
Within the book, Colours of Poetry, you will find eleven sections, all representations of different hues, each featuring seven poems that explore the intricacies and fallacies of our world. Come and sail the Sapphire Sea and Sky, cringe at the Crimson Bloodstains, wonder at the Emerald Creation, dazzle in the Lemon Daybreak, linger in the Tangerine Sunset, sniff the Violet Petals, feel Umber the Earth, let the Black as Night and Death surround you, shiver as you pass by White Winter Bones, lose yourself in the Grey Haze, and stare up at the Silver Stars…


You can find the book at:
~

Excerpt:

Under the Midnight Sun

Here, there is no illumination
but from the misaligned sun
on the far wandering horizon
And in our everlasting days
we spend our transitory sanity
chasing gilded gleams of hope

© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart

 ~


Author Bio:

A. F. Stewart was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, and still calls it home.  The youngest in a family of seven children, she has always had an overly creative mind and an active imagination. She is fond of good books (especially science fiction/fantasy), action movies, sword collecting, and oil painting as a hobby.
Ms. Stewart is an indie author with several published novellas and story collections in the dark fantasy or horror genres, with a few side trips into poetry and non-fiction. She has a great interest in history and mythology, often working those themes into her books and stories.


And be sure to check out the book release party, Colours of Poetry Slam, happening today on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/events/357548374428534/

And enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway to win a Smashwords copy of the book:




Thursday, 2 April 2015

Colours of Poetry Slam on Facebook

On April 7th, I'm releasing my new book of poetry, Colours of Poetry, and to celebrate that release and National Poetry Month I'm hosting a Facebook poetry party!


Colours of Poetry Slam 

Check out the Facebook Event:


The Party Rules are simple:

1 - Post a poem inspired by our theme: colour
2 - Post a poem inspired by or in honour of National Poetry Month
3 - Post any old poem
4 - Have fun

And as a treat for participants, I'll be picking three random poems for a feature here on the blog: http://afstewartblog.blogspot.ca/


And there's a Rafflecopter giveaway of my book:


So, come over and post your poems and have some fun!
And feel free to invite your poet friends, the more the merrier.


Subscribe Now:

Search This Blog

Powered By Blogger

Monthly Pageviews