If an ice cube melts in Cyprus, Would a seal feel it in Alaska? I ask ya. When a willow wilts in Thailand, Will the terrain sprout a new one in Belgium? C'mon. Tell 'em. If I wring my soul dry like a wet towel here, Would you be soul-thirsty there? I'll wait, wondering, in... Continue Reading →
How does a purple-blossomed plant Thank the light? Does any part of the flower's petals, stalk, or leaves-- That have turned richer shades of purples and greens-- Even know that it is gratitude that it perceives When in the sun's light it basks and beams? What if that flower knows and screamed An infinite shriek... Continue Reading →
Both of them an equinox, His pallid bones, her ivory blocks, Her ebony of solid wood, And his the darkness he'd withstood. His heart on every line he rained And out shed music from her veins. None knows, observing her with him, Where her blood ends and his begins. Sharesies!
Break time! Pausing my writing compositions for a post dedicated to this fear-lover's fav scary TV theme songs. Click each title if you want to hear its theme. If there are any I've overlooked, add them in the comments section and mention where it would fall on the countdown. If there are any of mine... Continue Reading →
I find this very comforting and humbling. I believe this to be true about God. https://youtu.be/Xlf70K7yPZ8
“Storm’s over, Girlie,” He hath said to me. “Thunder’s shook and passed you, Sugar; Our promises We keep.” “We opened your chest And poured you full of what We wilt. Then, by and by, We made sure you landed Well within the rye.” “Don't think that the rye fields are safe for good,” He continued... Continue Reading →
It was at one of those swim-at-your-own-risk beaches. That's not to say it was any riskier than any other beach, but there were no lifeguards nor anyone else. The mother and her little son had the stretch of surf and sand all to themselves that day. Of course her husband's sixteen-hour work days were exhausting,... Continue Reading →
They. Those. I see them. I see them, too, as do you. Those fleeting enticements Of the eye, (the glassy surface of the eye). In this garden of love Those peacocks sure do come a'callin'. But they aren't peacocks. They are palomitas. Ain't never goan be nothing but Palomitas Which offer no sustenance, No turbulence... Continue Reading →
a list of the contents in the trash bin belonging to Mr. Nadir Habte: one set of sweat-soaked, piss-wetted, blood-stained bed sheets one shattered bedside lamp and light bulb seven used tissues--all drenched in mucus and tears, some speckled with blood glass shards from a broken bathroom wall mirror scraps cut from a length of... Continue Reading →
1 Greeted a family That immigrated to this country, But we did not know they were coming 2 Greeted the needle That brought protection into our bodies By means of vaccine, But we were too busy pleading About a temporary sting And the terror from our ignorance of things 3 Welcomed the flood and the... Continue Reading →
I wait, betrothed to the earth
the desolate dolomite cliffs
jagged peaks; tectonic shifts
my wedding veil…the alpine mists
consummate with rhythmic tide
so heedful of the hesitant bride
gentle, soon the waves subside
cleaving to the cave inside
decades pass, and fiery gust
shall scorch the fields to barren rust
henceforth shall I only trust
a matrimony of decay and dust
Maybe it will rise in the west, The sun that is, On some given day. After that, maybe the moon will split in two And its halves will be consumed Into the staggering belly of the sun. Will the affluent then disperse To their fallout shelters, Their concrete playpens? Will those be of any use... Continue Reading →
The King is in the FFP building again. Baba, Daddio, Bapu Stephen King, that is. I was practicing with my new refurbished condenser microphone tonight and read this well-up-to-King-standard short story from my copy of Skeleton Crew called "The Reaper's Image". I don't remember ever reading it before but I was nicely chilled by this... Continue Reading →
“My son refuses to eat,” the mother said. Even though her boy wasn’t a boy, but a grown man, that didn’t stop her from letting herself into his house and calling the local doctor for a home visit. “He says he is abstaining by choice,” the doctor explained after conducting a physical exam and consultation.... Continue Reading →
Quicker than butter holds shape in a hot frying pan, the teacher offers welcome-to-the-new-school-year niceties to her first period English class on their first day. She picks up the loose-laid class rosters and begins reciting the names on the top sheet. Ironically, she checks who is present without being sure if she is all there... Continue Reading →
Ripple. A pinch or pound, your worth I found. On the matter of your appearance, I will find beauty, less of bounds. About something, your wisdom sound. Babble. I enjoy things of your personality. Your voice is for hearing and your writing for reading. I believe that you are capable of learning things new, on... Continue Reading →
Mel’s hole is actually a story about two holes. The first hole was on Mel’s property in Washington state. It was rumored to be bottomless and people would come around to throw there garbage into it only to be greeted by no reports of the stuff crashing down to the ground.
Eventually this hole was alleged by Mel to be seized by the government and Mel would have to move on to other holes.
He found one in Nevada and this one was even stranger than the last. In true Pet Cemetery fashion, a nearby hunter threw his dead dog in the hole and saw it several days later, running through the woods.
Mel reported seeing a black light emit from the hole at night for short periods of time. For what purpose, even Mel couldn’t figure why.
One day, Mel decided to conduct an experiment. He took a live…
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Non-sequitur time! This poem is not an original of mine. Its author is Stephen King, the father of macaber (har har har, intentional misspelling for phonetic delightment--delightment, which is also not a word but loved by me all the same). The original part of this post is the fact that it's me reading it aloud... Continue Reading →
Did we not say--‘cross our homesteads surveyed-- That we think there ought to be more? Yeah! Give us that. Give it here. Now we have it. Ok--get it away from us. Replace it all Better and new, and not as few. Discard the old. Watch. It collects dirt on the ground (Easy since we’ve spat... Continue Reading →
Tired of breathing. What an unceasing bother, That I learned to do, proper, From the day I was born. That first breath, I realize, May have galvanized My eyes Onto their maiden voyage of cries. Sick of breathing by now. I’ve done it enough already, Haven’t I? Jesus Christ, Millions stacked on millions Of times.... Continue Reading →
It's here. The time has finally come, girlie, For you to stay in the valley. Not above it nor below. And it ain't a place that you can go. A valley that isn't lower than a peak Up whose steepness you failed to leap-- No, it's not a spot of lowliness-- Not in any sense.... Continue Reading →
I have to get the fuck out of this house. The volume on the TV was just above audible but was hitting my ears like an amateur heavy metal band on open mic night. There were no other sounds, though every stud bay behind the drywall could've had a banshee in it; the silence seemed... Continue Reading →
Terrance was known for his obsession with the Gettysburg Address. Part of the reason was egocentric; it was written on November 17th, the same as his birthday. Sure, everyone knows Lincoln delivered it on the 19th but that's not when it was conceived. "It came down from the divine to Abe's hand on the 17th,"... Continue Reading →