Sunday, October 31, 2010

Crossing Bridges

Photo by dionhinchcliffe

She takes life seriously,

with a book under her nose.

The other one is cooler,

as she crams over her notes.

Two different young ladies,

preparing for the world.

Not knowing entirely,

what the future holds.

Suddenly, she snaps,

her optimism, lost.

The cool girl laughs,

‘Cross the bridge when you get there!’

Two young girl friends,

sharing each other’s dreams.

Enjoying life to the fullest,

taking dares in every turn.

Often times, she’s prepared.

Yet life, always not fair…

Her wise friend cheers,

‘Cross the bridge when you get there!’

Life has much sarcasm,

best to breathe it all and laugh.

Worries better left behind.

Let’s cross our own bridges when we get there.

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 24, 2009

Come what may’. When everything fails, a friend brings the best in everything.

Another poem for my friend Mai Vallido Trasmano. Friends forever.

Purple November

Majestic purple,

red and blue combination.

Royalty symbol.

The rarest purple,

odd tints for the amethyst.

February stone.

Sweet, fragrant purple,

luscious scent of lavender.

Essential embeds.

Courageous purple.

The color of death and grief,

heartbreaking embrace.

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 31, 2009

'Purple shades'

In memory of my parents:

January 22, 2009

December 28, 2009

Friday, October 29, 2010

A Lover’s Tale

The evening sings its lullaby,

as a racing heart beats its tune.

Tranquil flow of the creek nearby,

dancing with an ill-fated curse.

Splendid sky with the ghastly moon.

Her tears, lovely sparkle of stars.

Glorious hope has ended too soon,

Alas, her monster, she faces.

Not a feature of a demon-

no fangs, no claws, no darkened wings.

A mortal man of flesh and blood,

distorted shadow of her lust.

The monster remains a lover,

as he craves for earthly desires.

Pretty girl weeps for her stalker,

no sooner it will be over.

Such anguish to resist his smell.

His breathing chest, her deepest thirst.

Her monster into a human,

he gapes into her crimson eyes.

The evening sky darkens in gloom,

ancient spells take dominion.

As maiden becomes predator,

her lover looks upon his doom.

Not anymore as his passion,

but a baleful form of a beast!

Great terror clears his obsession,

and greedily, she claims his heart.

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 29, 2010

More dark poems by this author:





Screams of terror,

echoing through the walls.

Heavy chains clang,

and she endlessly sobs.

She shouts and weeps.

The castle remains deaf.

As night engulfs,

she mourns in great anguish.

More and more groans.

Grand voice becomes hoarse.

She stifles a cackle,

as dying hopes prevail.

Horrible fate,

merciless verdict.

Death within walls.

Her real nightmare gnaws.

Soon, mere scrapings,

no hints of cries within.

Handsome maiden,

into a rotting flesh.

A living corpse,

between the lonesome walls.

In dark solace,

forever, she will dwell.

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 29, 2010

Other dark poems by this author:


My Elisha


Monday, October 25, 2010

St. Louis High’s Witch

They called her Sabrina from the show “Sabrina, The Teenage Witch”. Sabrina may be a cute girl, but this freshman girl isn’t.

Anne, her real name, looked more than a real witch than Sabrina. She has the most beak-like-nose and the worst bushy black hair as ever.

People would stare at Anne. While small children ran away from her, most kids of Anne’s age would mock her for her looks. The worst group, who had been so cruel, to give her the name “Sabrina” was Danna’s.

Danna was the team captain of St. Louis high school cheering squad. She was a blond beauty with a very hot body. Danna was a dream for every male in campus. But for, Bruce- her boyfriend, she was a nightmare.

Bruce was also in senior high like Danna. He was one of the most gorgeous, popular and rich guys in St. Louis.

Two months ago, Bruce got interested with Danna because of her looks. But as the days went by, he realized Danna was just another pretty face, nothing more. They have nothing in common. In addition to that, Bruce detested Danna’s cruelty to the “Anne-girl”.

Danna and her friends would make fun of the girl whenever possible. They would taunt and ridicule her until she cries.

Yet, nasty deeds have punishments. Danna and her friends got what they deserve the morning after Hallow’s eve.

Bruce was driving Danna and her two cheering team-mates home. The three girls had some beers from a Halloween party outside town and they were behaving badly.

Bruce should have left the three, but being a gentleman, he patiently looked after the girls.

It was almost one o’clock in the morning. The road to Saint Louis town was quiet and completely deserted.

They were heading towards the town’s entrance when they saw a familiar face walking along the high way.

It was Anne. She was in her usual over-sized old sweater and pants. They knew she lived outside town in an old shack with a grandmother. But what made them looked twice was Anne, carrying a broomstick.

“She is a witch!” Danna cried. There was no fear in her voice, only hate. “That little ugly- STOP THE CAR!”

Bruce has no intention of stopping, but Danna had grabbed the wheels from him. They skidded into a halt, almost running over Anne.

Anne had been pale. Bruce felt very sorry for the girl. She was indeed not a pretty thing. Besides being witch-like, she looked malnourished in her thin stature. Her green-expressive eyes were her only interesting feature. At that moment, those eyes were huge and terrified.

“Wh-what do you want?”

Danna, along with her two friends, Diana and Daisy were instantly out of the car. Danna grabbed Anne’s hair as a reply. “What are you up to, Witch? Where have you been flying?”

“What do you mean?!” Anne was shrinking in fear. Not only that the girls were drunk, they also have the murderous looks in their eyes. Daisy, one of Danna’s friends had snatched her broomstick away.

“I just came from a part-time job,” Anne explained. “I was a cleaner after a Halloween party at Queen Lilly’s.”

Queen Lilly was an exclusive restaurant at Saint Louis.

“Liar!” Diana, Danna’s other girl friend reacted. “For all I know, you are plotting against us!”

“I am not a witch! Please-!”

Anne received a slap on her face. Still not satisfied, Diana shoved Anne, violently towards the rocky ground by the high way.

Anne fell hard. She cried in pain as a sharp stone cut into one of her palms.

“Let’s go girls,” Bruce finally intruded. He remained seated inside his car.

Bruce was getting sick watching his companions, but he kept his cool, hoping they’ll soon get tire tormenting Anne.

“She’s already crying. Get in the car, please.”

As if on cue, Anne sprang into her feet and ran with all her might for the trees, next to the road.

“Hey! You-!” Danna thundered. “WE ARE NOT DONE WITH YOU YET!”

Diana had picked up a stone and brought it flying towards Anne. It struck the girl’s right ankle.

For the second time, Anne hit the earth. She shielded her face with her arms as two more rocks fell on her. This time, from Danna and Daisy, who were laughing shrilly.

“Please, stop!” Anne wailed. “Please…”

“Stop it!” Bruce had been alarmed. More stones were thrown at Anne.

The girls were actually enjoying. They intend to kill Anne!

Bruce hurriedly came down from his vehicle. Once and for all, he will put a stop of his companion’s madness!

He discovered Anne was already up. She was not weeping anymore. Her emerald-green eyes were as if ablaze.

Bruce realized, Anne decided to fight for her life.

Danna and her friends were still hurling stones at Anne. The girl’s face was already bleeding.

“That’s it!” Bruce was really mad.

Three more rocks flew. Suddenly, the stones just stopped in mid-air. As if jinxed, they remained suspended in the air for a second, then dropped flatly on the ground.

Danna, Diana and Daisy instantly lost the alcohol inside their system. They have gazed at Anne fearfully.

But, Anne had also the terrified look in her face. She was staring at Bruce.

Bruce companions glanced at him, questioningly. And before his girlfriend could utter a word, Bruce had spoken of a chant.

There was a flash of bright, green light. Then, three ugly bull-frogs jumped off from the spot where Danna and her friends had been.

“You-!” Anne was still horrified.

“A warlock? Yes,” Bruce supplied, pleasantly. “I have a witch blood. It runs in my family. Though, we are prohibited from using magic anymore.”

Bruce approached Anne, casually. “I’ve always wanted to dump, Danna. I guess, this was the right time.”

The young man uttered another chant. With such gentleness, he placed a hand over Anne’s forehead. A faint green glow appeared from Bruce palm. Almost immediately, Anne’s memory about him being a witch’s son was erased.


Saturday, October 23, 2010

Risking It All

You smiled as the clouds darken,

not a mere delight, but a dare.

So soon the rain has fallen,

we ran together, no such care.

You said, we risk it all.

Risk the rain,

that’s our game.

If we get caught, that’s a laugh.

You’ve fallen in love back then.

He did not feel, still you gamble.

You said in time he will see.

Your faithful heart, he will find.

You said, you risk it all.

Risk the pain,

That’s your game.

If you get hitched, he’s a tease.

We gambled and took the risks,

made the wrong turns and we prevailed.

Miles apart now, how I’ve missed.

To laugh with you under the rain.

Some people are hard to forget.

This one is for Mai.

Missing her and remembering the good times.

Friends forever!

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 23, 2010


The sweet smell of the grass,

and the still light of the moon.

Perfect moment for us.

Our special time alone.

Under the starlit sky,

we taste each other’s lips.

How I melt in your embrace,

as the world remains asleep.

You whisper a secret,

dark and sinister, I hear.

Yet, your voice some music,

enigmatic to resist.

Thus, screams shatter the night,

foul, unspeakable curses.

As hooded men invade,

I hold on to your clutches.

Lover’s night into fight,

I yell, I weep and you claw

Alas, rivals have triumphed,

everything turns into black.

My heart bleeds as I wake,

finding no presence of you.

Murderous men have calmed,

beneath their feet – a demon!

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 23, 2010

More dark poems by this author:


My Elisha

Sunday, October 17, 2010


Caught within your spell,

I gazed upon your angel face.

Into your arms, I fell.

How I savored your warm embrace.

Safe as I can be,

within your hold, I will remain.

And we shall both see,

the souls of men in each domain.

Such gloom, you will bear.

My bitterness, you will withstand.

And we shall both hear,

the sufferings of evil men.

Thus hold becomes cold,

your comforting arms into air.

Achingly, you fade,

like the stars in the night, so fair.

A potion into a poison.

Your enchantment, lost.

An illusion, such creation -

death of my warlock!

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 17, 2010

Sonnet 012

Still silence upon the solemn evening.

Lips remain sealed as the eyes speak the words.

Love sings, inaudible for the hearing.

Two hearts meet thus a clash of diverse worlds.

Eve to Adam as Venus to red Mars.

Moon kisses the sun as day meets the night.

Frightful thoughts for the sane, a lover’s curse.

To gamble and lose is fate’s ugly bite.

Yet the call of love remains enticing,

a beautiful promise of devotion.

Alas, beating heart is not for feeling,

not to hear, not to see such illusion.

Tomorrow’s destiny, a mystery.

This eve, a freedom of heart’s misery.

(c) Phoenix Montoya @ October 8, 2010


Arms and limbs grow numb,

as the air turns cold.

Lazily it falls,

sliding from above.

Wrists struggle in ache,

nasty, evil clasps!

Your hopeless mouth shrieks,

as destiny moves down.

Slicing back and forth,

slow torture of death.

Such fortune, the heart,

collapses in fright!

(c) Phoenix Montoya @October 2, 2010

Broken Spirit No More

Heartaches are life’s bitter lemons. In time, these sad experiences are meant to be forgotten.

My poem ‘Broken Spirit No More’ was inspired by a friend and a colleague of mine.

'Every heartbreak mends in time. Love will find him again and he will keep it forever.'

My poem, ‘Broken Spirit No More’.