Tag Archives: Horror

Probably 6:45?

Busy, busy, busy. So much to do, so little time. Yanked in every direction by the passing threads and hands of everything and everyone who’d simply like to reach out. Many thoughts and many feelings fly about in my head, rushing one way or another, always making sure their near misses are just close enough to give me a heart attack. I do hope you enjoy the poem today. What a wonderful day it is.

Sinisterium

How the bell tolls

Sounding at the hour

Not to mark the time

But something much more dour

That taste in your mouth

Errant vicissitude

Turn from sweet to sour

Ashes then and ashes now

Ring around the Rosie

And we all fall down

A cacophony of sirens

Binding men in liar’s irons

See there so hidden in the fog

There the pyres, there the pylons

Sinister in their construction

Obscure in their function

Can you hear them shrieking?

Can you hear their desperation?

Mark the date

For your infernal consultation

I set the scene

You play the part

Watch right there

Shadows in the dark

Which Poem, This Poem?

I look around at all these people and surely they notice me. Surely I am not invisible. Surely too they have their thoughts and feelings and opinions of me, but I… I move unabated, unfettered, and unmolested through the streets and forests as if I’d been noticed by no one. Surrounded by people and not alone, but… I’m not sure. There always seems to be a but, whether it’s a joke or an “I love you”. I take solace in myself, in my writing. Still I yearn for more. How could I help but to want all that I have seen in my dreams? So vivid and so real yet so far away and I remain inhibited by Byzantine bureaucracy and the constraints of having not been born into a trust fund. Easier said than done, I suppose. Let’s get a drum roll going because I have for you something that I hope will make you think. A daily exercise of mind that may help keep you from taking a certain grippy sock vacation. Without further ado:

See Bird

Yes, I just ate

Something to so sate

That hunger, that desire

Something new I hope to sire

There’s a fire

Burning

Hope to never tire

The pages again, turning

Something new I’ve been learning

Where are those wild things

The ones I thought I’d find

I read the book and saw the movie

Feel as though I’ve been out-swined

To lie to a boy

Different than a lie to a man

The man will know, the man will change

The boy?

It is all he knows

And so it comes to pass

These lies are all he sows

How deafening are the calls of crows

Vociferous Cawing

Hear their gnawing

Bones creak and crack

Like so many planks of an old sea-worn carrack

Do you answer the call of the one who knows?

All those shiny pearls now burned to black.

Do You Have An Answer?

Afternoon, folks. Hoping everyone is having a lovely Thursday. It feels wonderful out. Bit windy though. I am having a pretty good day, all things considered. Hard fought, I think. Do you ever feel like you just can’t remember something you should? Some things that you should? Like it’s not even on the tip of your tongue anymore, but it’s just been wiped from your conscious mind. A blockage, rather than a haze? Locked away inside a vault in the castle of your mind? Find the key, win the prize.

Popular

An old friend

Come to see me again

“It’s been a while,”

Spoken knowingly.

“Can you remember?”

Not anymore

“Kind of,”

I lie.

“Remember when we…?”

I can’t

“Of course I do,”

Slithered through gritted teeth.

Sitting still upon a precipice

Beady eyes inside a carapace

Try so desperately to keep the pace

Look down and see my untied shoelace

Ataraxian dreams sail breadth of mind

And probe for gold in hearts of mine

But why can’t I remember?

It doesn’t seem like so far away.

He Has Arrived.

Moving on up. Moving on out. Do what you will, perhaps what you must. Find the page, don’t make a fuss. The man, he comes, to do what he does. How will you respond? In all your despondent musings, never could you have fathomed his arrival. The depth of his presence… What could it mean?

The Man

Novocaine

Laughing gas

Numb the pain

Chuckle now, it’ll pass

Never feeling

Never reeling

From the onion, layers peeling

Never crying, always dealing

Put it inside

Stem the tide

Walking cadaver, formaldehyde

Eat your fill

Drink this swill

Take this pill

Corporate shill…

Once upon a time

There was a man from Nice

Quite the man he was, so very nice

And quite the fan of thyme

Corrupted he was

by demons abuzz

And now is his brain turned to mush

Do You Believe In Magic?

Arthur C. Clarke once said, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” We’re on the cusp of an era where people will no longer understand the technologies we have built from the ground up. They are now so complex that were you to ask a child today how a cellphone works, they might simply have no explanation other than that of magic. My generation may be the last to understand technology’s inner workings in any meaningful way, now giving rise to a society that is full of sorcerers rather than scientists. Imagine a world of science fiction. One where we fly on great space arks and control every aspect of reality simply by thinking. No one will know who built these machines or how they operate, just that they continue, always. You will find yourself surrounded by magic and splendor, finding no difference between the former and science any longer. Any notion of us having built these hulking, self-maintenancing, incredible wonders will have disappeared. We may become little more than medieval peasants worshipping great mechanical beasts that do the bidding of those savvy enough to claim their operation, though ignorant to the internal machinations all the same. None of us will live to see this potential future, but we are getting closer.

Transistor

It’s magic.

Don’t you know?

Every little arc and spark

Coursing through the board

Can’t help but find

Inside the mind

A billion little arks

Sailing through the dark

So complex

Are these effects

None of us remember

How it is they render

Those little magic words