Tag Archives: night

Crepuscular

Good afternoon, everyone. Have you ever looked into the twilight? Have you ever seen them? Those crepuscular things… Perhaps they look more sincerely into you. Without further ado:

Silence of the Lived-In Ghost

No.

It is so.

They cannot see.

No, they cannot see.

Those things that find their way

into these eyes of mine.

They do not know.

How those ghosts cry out…

No, they cannot see them.

They cannot hear them.

Their cries,

their screams.

They cannot see those eyes,

the eyes of ghosts

inside their hosts.

I have seen the dark,

how those ghosts traverse it.

Caught between the night and day,

it’s past their time

with nothing to say.

No, they cannot see them.

But these ghosts, these specters,

they haunt my nights

and stalk my days.

Perhaps it is so

that I am among them,

watching and waiting

for my time again.

Caught between the night and day

in that little place

with nothing to say.

The Banks of The River Lethe

Good afternoon, everyone. You have died. You stand here, like those heroes of old, on the banks of that sacred river Lethe. Your ascent to the heavenly realms of Paradiso now secured, you step carefully into the dark and starkly opaque water. Your sins, desires and memories washed away in sacred bliss. As a child again, you are innocent, no longer condemned, but redeemed. Welcome to the rest of forever. Without further ado…

Settling Debts

Haunting orbs

drift across the water.

They come towards me,

stealing away my light.

I am fading.

I flash and flicker;

I am the torch over which your fingers

quickly pass.

The specters

take my flame.

They wear it

and make themselves whole.

I am as the hearth

in that certain dearth

that follows November.

Swept away,

is all my heat.

Through the mist

is seen defeat.

I know why they’ve come:

The debt of one infernal sum.

I cannot pay,

I’m ashamed to say.

This will make their day.

Paradoxical Paradigm

Good afternoon, everyone! It has been a long while since I’ve posted on a Sunday. I hope you all have had a wonderful weekend, and for those starting their Monday on the other side of the world, I hope you have a wonderful day. The sentiments of this piece may seem vaguely familiar, the stench of indecision and ambiguity being one we might all recognize. Please enjoy, my friends.

Twisted Memories

The last dream I had?

No, I…

I cannot remember it.

I must be mad.

It sang to me once,

that one dream I dreamt,

but now is lost to me

unsynchronized,

without harmony.

No truer words were spoken,

no more valuable a token

had ever once been given.

If only I…

If only I could remember

the shapes those words resemble.

My heart beats in time with drums

which, in turn, compete with hums

that reverberate and kiss me ‘till I’m numb.

How did I ever find the time,

adhering to that awful paradigm?

I only wished for a simple sign.

Trying New Things

There’s never a time when trying new things is not exciting. Recently I’ve been trying many new things, as much as possible. I’ve started writing more short stories, or perhaps excerpts of stories based on the influences I see in the world around and the work of others. Personally I think this new one is neat-o. Be warned though, it is pretty gross. Horror warning. Please enjoy.

A Man Would Scream

What am I? Trapped in a hell that feels simultaneously my own and one created by yet another monster, I scream and cry and gasp until that last little bit of air comes out. My words are cut short; my rending howls transform, slowly, into that low, uncompromising, pitiful gurgle. Perhaps if one saw my putrid, broken form, this mass of stinking flesh and hateful decay, perhaps they might believe there is a man left within. They might believe there is something left to save. There is nothing.

I am screaming. I am screaming and yet I have no mouth, no eyes, no face. I am but a featureless mass, resigned to and constrained by a fate which an unjust God has set upon me, only that when it is wolves that descend upon you in the forest do you get to die. The soft, agonizing gurgle they hear coming from this pile of meat that once was me is both my only release and my eternal torment. I do not even know that you are there.

For all eternity, it must be remembered. Those sins which I have done. Those evils which I have wrought, piercing me over and over like a Tailor who just can’t get the patch right. There is no penance for the deeds I count among mine. I deserve this. I deserve to suffer.

Leave me be, for I am not a man.

Before The Morning Comes

Good morning, friends and all. I have not been especially prolific as of late, but I hope that means the quality of my work is increasing. Please enjoy the poem today. I like it quite a bit.

Shut Eyelids

Oh darling,

my love,

it is not you that i love any longer,

but a refraction, a mirror image,

one mark of a great love lost and gone away,

but one that I see and make real every time I close my eyes still.

You are not the one that haunts my dreams.

You are not the one who stalks my memories,

the one who flits and flutters under shut eyelids.

You are not that one.

Now they are gone,

forever lost to those greats engines that grind the sands of time.

I only wish that when it was you,

in that body of yours,

that you had decided to stay.

It could not be so.

Cannot be so.

Forever lost,

to I and yourself,

that love of ours

that made me so sad.