Tag Archives: #horror

ANCHOR OF THORNS

Despair is an anchor with thorns
it drowns the ship and sinks the soul
and the hull a skin that bleeds
A heart — the oar that paddles ashore
Best to use a blessed life vest
when with a raging storm
that despair comes and wisely glue shut
that gapping hawse of the Soul’s hull.

:: 05-15-2014 ::
rev 07192020


BRONTOSAURUS

DEFINITELY a few minutes ago
: walked within your footsteps/
walking — oh, walking in your
footsteps\ hey mister, i would
not ask for more (i would not walk
within those foot steps) but could you
sing to me about how mighty brontosaurus
died even built three stories high: he
would never hurt a fly…
Execelsus
walking within those same footprints
are my own foot-steps…

:: 07.16.2020 ::


THIS POET WROTE:

THIS POET WROTE:
while leaves march down an empty alleysuddenly she is barely holding upon the blue skies /of punch red-blue\of a galant southern magnolia sweetand fresh of a sudden burning smellfruit for the fallen souls are we forever together.
far so for father trick of mind/here is a Strange Tale\upon his tomb stone. this POET WROTE
:: 07.13.2020 ::


DYING IN BED

THE bed a crime scene of sorts
a passion spilled in sweat
willingly i go – to my death

he comes to me in the night
a sword sharpened by lust
and thrusts it into my soul

mother, i’m ready to come home
but the line between pain & pleasure
is small compared to the pleasant death

the coroner will say an untimely passing
but my murderous lover knew the timing
each plunge of his knife ever deeper

— // —


EMBRYO’S SKINNY FISTS

THE embryo’s skinny fists reach the skies
and hides a face yet born
in this summer of burning children you
call a name and the world is asleep.
the fitful swings the stuffed animals
the tired friends called warm winds
have long thoughts of buried snakes
and within the many undreamed thoughts
of a lost world the embryo’s skinny fists
tear the skies apart — the revelation
of new nails grown for 2 months that never
had a drink of the blood you spilled //
some hang their hand and drown within fear
yet, and, with unborn eyes very open, to pretend
a gently passed hand over a baby’s head —
THIN new hair that does not die, long nails
within a soft chest — licking the bloodless
wounds of survival.
The sound of the surgeon’s scalpel.

:: 06.20.2020 ::


INVISIBLE AND BROKEN

INVISIBLE and broken
are we
unknown to our own kind
are we
indefensible and ruined
are we

Our life is mystery
Our life is heartbreak
Our life is evil
Our life is worst off

together
so broken
and shameless

No heartbeat between us
divided between day & night
gazing from the gutter
of a private dark heaven
is our life

Getting closer to god
Getting closer to life
Getting closer to meaning

it will never be
it can never be
forever stalking
those unlike you and me

We are the creatures
of the Night.

:: 09-29-2018 ::


I HEARD YOU CRY IN TERROR

THESE terrors squeezing life
the unraveling || greatly suffers
a crying child with tremors and
mobbing monsters walking
with shadows || when your mind
is struck in terror like this
aaagh! Save the angels but
forget me –brave the light of
day where terror shows it’s face
{gripping the throat} is the greatest
horror of all __i am a madman bleeding eyes shut
and acrylic paints the INK the most!
Tyrant! Is fear the most!

:: 09-17-2018 ::


FLAT SHADOWS

i birthed one of my famous dreams
last night and invited the
whole town. every inconsiderate
thought came and the flat shadows
of my dearest fears.
the Child with no face on the sidewalk
outlines in broad strokes
Despair. a piece of dove of peace
smothered in regrets on a wooden table
served on a terrace of blinding terror.
only the smallest of facts carry
the greatest stories of which this one
is condemned to 3 o’clock each mourning.
before heaven awakens.
before sizzling strains
of gravity prove awakened
minds are too heavy.
as the rest of the town hides everywhere
that sanity has escaped i press
hard into my eyes by thumbs to forget.
manifested dreams is a sidecar
of my mental vehicle. again at sunrise
to find that one last star yet devoured
by daylight. a wish upon that remaining
survivor — allow this to be me!

:: 09-10-2018 ::


ACT (of) ONE

THE curtains open to broken applause
an audience of great mystery
i cannot see their faces
nor their eyes
my Usher flees me!
And Time, the soliloquy
for Thespian lies
with each act an act of Life
and props on spot
for dramatic plots
Agh! my lines evade me!
Evade me for all i am
worthless within my House
of Theater:

The Absurd
The Humour
The Horror
The Love

of tears of joy of laughter
of sorrow of broken lines
upon my heart
upon my face
within the glass
upon the shattered floor

AND within the miles of aisles
of faceless witness
my lines flee me!
Within and without such cosmic shatter
an audience so abstract is my life
an Act (of) One.

:: 08-19-2018 ::


LYCANTHROPIC ME