Death – R.K. Lightfoot

Poetry

The Nuckelavee

Oct 18, 2022Oct 18, 2022 lefthandwriter99

As the night grows long

And the Mither needs rest

A beast that stifles all song

Stirs at the devil’s behest

Captive in the darkest waters

Freed with the tempestuous sea

It will feast upon your daughters

On the island with no trees

Upon Orkney’s fields, it lays.

Steady breath, reeking of plague.

In salty waters, watching its prey.

Leaving corpses, bloody and vague.

A festering frame of flayed flesh

And pulsating yellow veins.

Farmers find no seed to thresh.

Its presence withered all the grain.

A torso stitched to horse back.

Knuckles that drag along the grass.

Bodies left uneaten and stacked

To become one rotting writhing mass

A dead stare from the oversized head.

At orphaned children crying in bed.

– R. K. Lightfoot

The Nuckelavee is a poem about a horse-like demon from Orcadian mythology; the nuckelavee. Orkney is an island off the coast of Scotland that has a rich body of fascinating and horrifying folklore, and the nuckelavee is one aspect of that folklore I felt compelled to write a poem about. In Orkney myth, the nuckelavee is imprisoned by the Mither of the Sea during the summer months. But the Mither tires as the year progresses and she eventually weakens enough that the nuckelavee is able to escape. The Mither’s fatigue is said to be why the autumn and winter months have more violent storms. When the Mither regains her strength she imprisons the nuckelavee again, and brings back the calmer seas of spring and summer. The nuckelavee’s horrifying appearance and it’s association with autumn, made it a perfect subject for the autumn/halloween themed poems I’m uploading this October.

Poetry

Fall of the leaf

Oct 9, 2022Oct 9, 2022 lefthandwriter99

The red, yellow, brown crisp leaves.

Fall upon my kill, carried by a gentle breeze.

Blood drips down and soaks the soil.

Life springs forth from my murderous toil.

Crows, maggots; all manner of life.

Feed from his corpse, give meaning to his strife.

Fungus grows as he becomes one with the earth.

His death has purpose, his death has worth.

Look upon my work, and all the life it supports.

Life that the coming winter, desires to cut short.

My work must endure, so they may continue to thrive.

Through these deaths, thousands will survive.

– R. K. Lightfoot

Fall of the leaf is a poem about a serial killer that justifies his murders through the twisted view that by allowing nature to feed upon the corpses he leaves, he is saving more life than he takes. It is autumn time in the poem, and the killer believes that he must continue his work if the wildlife is to survive the approaching winter. The poem and its autumnal setting was inspired by the time of year we are currently in, with this poem being the first of several poems I plan to upload this Halloween season.

Poetry

Last Humans Left

Dec 3, 2018Apr 12, 2019 lefthandwriter99

For the very first time, we learned how to walk
For the very first time, we learned how to talk
Met our strong and silent cousins late
Leaving us too soon was ultimately their fate
Left alone in the dark and lonely night
Made us desire to create perpetual light
Left alone in the world without our kin
Left to face the cold, we covered our skin
We look to the stars, and hope
Searching intently through that scope
For its still dark, and we are lonely
And we are the last humans left

– R.K. Lightfoot

‘Last Humans Left’ is a poem from the perspective of a human (duh) who is lamenting the deaths of their ‘cousins’ soon after they met. This is meant to allude to the Neanderthals, ‘strong and silent’, who died off not long after first making contact with Homo Sapiens (us). The speaker portrays the loneliness the human race feels as a result of this fact and their desire to find intelligent life elsewhere so as not to be alone anymore.

Poetry

Cider Country

Nov 22, 2018Apr 12, 2019 lefthandwriter99

Picking apples was his vocation
Pressed into cider and sold across the nation
Hundreds of trees, all but one planted before his time
One that’s since grown too tall to climb
A head above the rest, stood the young and mighty tree
Causing strife for the picker and his knobbly knees

The secret of its growth hidden below
Too deep to be picked at by the circling crows
Entangled by the hungry roots, lies the pickers wife
She found apples too bitter, and so he took her life

– R.K Lightfoot

‘Cider Country’ is a poem about a passionate apple picker whose family have been picking at the orchard for generations, who we find out killed his wife in a rage because she was critical about the bitterness of one of the apples. An attempt at some dark humour in this poem with the absurd motivation and the bluntness with which the murder is revealed.

Poetry

Moon Bound & Whitechapel

Oct 19, 2018Apr 12, 2019 lefthandwriter99

Moon Bound
A slave, chained and bound by the moon
Bringing forth an evil that’d make the Devil swoon
My bones shattered, skin teared and muscles shredded
Transformed into the beast every soul dreaded
Whitechapel
Sitting in Whitechapel,
Contently cleaning my scalpel.
A busy night’s work,
Has brought forth a gentle smirk.
A kidney, fresh cut and fried
And my funny little games to keep me satisfied.

– R.K. Lightfoot

‘Moon Bound’ and ‘Whitechapel’ are two short poems that make up my attempt at doing some poetry for the Halloween season. ‘Moon Bound’ is about a werewolf going through the painful transformation process. ‘Whitechapel’ is from the perspective of Jack the Ripper having arrived home after committing another murder in Whitechapel. “my funny little games’ was taken from the ‘Dear Boss’ letter that claimed to be written by Jack the Ripper.