Tag Archives: #horror

EXPLAINING THE WERELINGSFirst Order of the Court (PART 02)

“Approve certification for settlement purposes on consent of the Parties;
and (2) approve Notice of Certification and Settlement Approval Hearing.”

So began the vetting. A devious device to sort out your friends and foes.

Was called the First Order of the Court!

Gavel pounding. Audience quieted.

“Now, we shall hear from our eminent Scientist!
A mister drewLow from the Highlands known as “Beyond’C!”

A very decript figure rose from the lower rafters and made crippled way
to the stage. A cup of water on the filament stem but he did not partake.

“My fellow Citizens of WereLingWorld!”

THE wereling world is infinitesimally smaller than any ‘human’ eye could
ever see. No. To see this world requires government technology — thank you
so kindly for your taxes! But we will not share what we created with your money.

Shit.

“I, after 858 years comes to you with findings of upmost importance! Not just
for WereLing World but for all of sentient beings in the GreaterTHANcanSee!

aT THAT very moment a shot of unobtainaium rang out and pierced the CordMust
from Doctor drewLow’s SoulRope.

:: 04.19.2022 ::


TRYING TO FEEL HUMAN

SLEEP awake. Sleep. Wake. Now _> tell me;
what is madness if not waking up to this same
day without a Savior: so gently hush
your eyes and fly with me (You see doctor:
‘WITHIN every dream my
heart takes the final steps
toward oblivion. With every beat-step I take takes
me much further from something we call Heaven.’

And when standards of living fall dizzy it’s only
a true force and we question is there a heaven?”

and as a madman I dream and say:

“I am the butterfly who moves mountains and hurricanes
I am chaos dripped in color on a journey by seven suns.”

So shut your precious eyes and sing and dream

“I, too, am an alien in human flesh
trying to feel human too…”

So we suffer! As children without parents.

:: 04.17.2022 ::


ABBY THE MOST AMOUNT OF GOOD

ABBY, the most amount of good is not enough
~ BUT ~
i am more than a mouthpiece
I am above them,
the cold fingers of a lover
embrace me as you seek to trace the marks
in my body then follow my path of ruin
until my wounds are healed
but where once i rose, i grow
but i am never whole, never the same.
i will keep the air thick with grief
as you use your fingers to touch
your nose to mine until we are dust,
i will live on in our hearts,
until we meet again,
~ BUT ~
if we meet, you shall burn.
let me show you my people
they are beyond your understanding
but then so am I
~~ MY MOMENT OF JOY ~
i do not know how i survived the
thought of you my mind gone
my body taut and still,
blood pounding through my temples,
through my eyes, but
i do not feel alone,
i hear a soft breath and see
a beautiful little girl
in the blue of the sky.
i am moving.
i move a hundred times
a second i move once
a thousand, louder than thunder
the tempest of blood that threatens to drown me,
i move once again and it is done
a tree appears and i sink into it
then i am passing through the sky
i feel wind on my face
i see her smile
i know that there is
no fate to defeat me
she will guide me
then she will love me
until her breath is my breath
and we are only we

~

~~ IMAGINATIONS OF FROZEN FEVER ~
i am dreaming
i am wishing
i am seeing things that do not exist
~ i DO NOT
EVER EXPECT YOU TO BE THE LAST ONE
who reaches out
EVER TO HIS HOSTS IN THE DARK
I DO NOT EVER EXAGGERATE
THE IMAGE EVER
TRUE
FREEDOM IS NOT FREE OF LIFE
and I WAS ALWAYS FREE.

more than you know

The creature that comes to you and binds your life to your dreams
the night-horrors that rule your beasts, or shall i cower and die?
I came to you to surrender but then you gave your heart to another
now my words are useless and i see the dead walking
and in your eyes there is only a false light
i am so confused, let me be with you i am free
your blood has become my food and so i fade away,
so that you can remain never forget to forget
never forgive those who forget you will never be forgotten

~ BUT ~

the things i tell you, my visions, my words,
your flesh they stay with you
until your eyes no longer see
when i am but a wind-mote blown off the tip of your hair
and so when you cry and your heart breaks you cannot
let me go
my bones lay on your soul for all the life that you are
i am the shadow that never leaves you

the whisper of my sigh!

:: 04.03.2022 ::


THE WERE-LINGS’ ODE

And then, this good morning, how happy and glad you will be, day by day, week by week, year by year!

Who has not seen the dawn?

Who has not held the joy of sunrise?

When it came on, what was it but as if some eternal light had given glory to the world, and as if the future was made glorious before we saw it?

The air seemed full of it, and my soul, not wholly in tune with the day, seemed a full box of sunshine.

All, just all, was so lovely that I felt that it would not have been justice to anyone to send a low, dull, oppressive day to him.

If this morning did not deserve my raptures, I wondered what could possibly deserve them.

There is nothing in the world that is so delightful.

How did it get like this?

It is in one way to have these good mornings: this morning, this morning!

And yet the world was not designed for them.

Its beauty is only of such a loveliness that we are stupid if we can look at it without seeing the future glory of it.

To have them in the wintertime, when life is just beginning to stir, is something too wonderful to be seen merely as a convenience.

In order that the golden beauty may be present, the following conditions must be in operation.

First, a bare, clear sky must be free of clouds.

The sky has no dignity for its beauty if the heavens are full of clouds.

Second, no wind.

No wind is there for the clouds to play in; the sky should be entirely calm.

Third, no fog.

A night – fog, or fog that comes up like clouds out of the low country, is ugly and unnatural.

Fourth, there must be a break between two of their souls.

To crawl upward to the thin crust of Earth.

:: 03.29.2022 ::


NOTHING SURVIVED

NOTHING survived.

 Yet i live.

Or is it that everyone
survived but i died?

Walking the chalk line
of homicide-art upon
a wet empty alley
in NYC I wanted to smoke.

No funnel of light.
No friends or family
members greeted me.

Just blood, brains,
and fear.

My face.  It left me.
Yet my hands were in
my pockets.  

If this be death then
death was kind.

Across the way, a diner.
I saw people-things
through the windows.

“gimme a cup of coffee.”
You look sore for the eyes
said the server.

One of her arms was missing.

The girl next to me had
something terribly wrong
with her back. That one eye
stared beyond me; made me
turn around to see what she
must have been looking at.

“Make that a scotch instead”
I croaked.

Nothing survived.  Yet I live.

:: 03.18.2022 ::


‘S SOIL MIXED IN TEARS AND STARS

I darted madly into the rain and hail
that fell in little clouds which
felt as tears from the torrents
of dying souls from this storm:

Leaping out from the storm
I found my children:
one upon a wet pillow
another within the bough.

I began my direction
above the beach,
down across the fields
I darted through the rain
all I wanted was a daughter
my gripping hands lost
to be my sweet self.

But, when she came
I had to make more
than a ditch
even I was a little older
and wiser
like a mother
in the shadow of my childhood
not so young anymore

:: 03.18.2022 ::

I lay in my bed
when they came
for to me.

Whispering not a word
with gleaming eyes
as silver came
to me and those others
those come from the stars
they turned my heart and home
into a zoo

like a slaughter house
of freaks.

:: 03.18.2022 ::


NIGHTMARE IN MARIUPOL

THE bombs rang and rang
out with light
into the night
while long nursey nights
as laid i within bed
that darkest hour
of gigantic, formless
queerest moments
a hideous nightmare
a form of father
and mother came
to me dead :
as of night

run oh run for life!
said in almost mock despair.

I leaped and ran i ran
pulled my brother from his bed
and into the night we went.

As earth moved. As skies
shook, as stars twirled
i hide baby brother’s eyes
from that horror.

We went.

Into the wet, cold dark night.

:: 03.17.2022 ::


BABY FLESH INSIDE EMBROY

I smell your baby flesh inside
my embryo heart and took hookah
cord to strangled this dark romance.
My face fell downward to dirt
and kingdom ants ate my eyes:
built a tower of new tears;
a thin bridge toward your mind
She moves slowly towards me
like a doctor seeking new cancer
like candy pharmaceutical
feeding life / i’ve got a brain
oh yeah \ to surprise life
i crawled out of the vat of
dead babies to survive_____
She was sad, said, “take me to
my favorite place to eat to forget
this” her best friend cried.
I’d eat you if you were unborn.
Surprise! Hey, best yet: let
me kill your parents first.

Zero sum.

:: 02.18.2022 ::


BLESS YOUR HEART FOR THE SONG YOU SING

I’d kiss your lips;

Crush them like grapes,
and lick up the sweet juice.
You’d smile at my kiss;
You’d turn, and let me go
to go far away.

Then, like the girl in the fairy tale
you’d try to outwit me
and return once more
to that thought, which you knew,
that still creeps upon your sleep,
the thought that it should

Be this way, somehow, all of the time.

All the time. For me.
Always for me.

Because that’s all you ever wanted to know.
And that’s all I ever wanted to tell you.
God bless your heart for the Song you Sing.

:: 02.05.2022 ::


RAPE ME UNTIL I AM DEAD

AND if you cleanse yourself
RAIN me
rain me again
\
O my dreams.
Take me home.
Take me home.
My dream take me home. THIS DAY opened its flower-mouth smell the daisy and the roses
saw the blue skies touched her lips and found God behind a rock my feet deep
inside the sand 00 we take the kids to Walmart and Walgreens inside a blue mood.

So i turned yea i turned from the boy i knew
/ I am miserably prolific /mean butterfly eating my insides\
my writings less agreeable than my dreams: no fun ||| ate
mud [check] ate my own heart [check] stood up when i
should have stood down [check]
wept and cried [x]
danced and went hysterically comical but carried the dead
child which was once me inside as the crowd laughed.
\
And for ENCORE? Doing it all over would be pure
poetic MADNESS! /

:: 12.07.2021 ::