NyarlathotepFrom infinite depths to infinite heightsNyarlathotep5 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Lit by a singular daemon-light
Rising from the Dreamlands’ blackest peak
Home to earth’s gods, noble but weak
But what’s this? Kadath’s palace is empty, the gods have fled
Something else is ruling in their stead
A monstrous spider in the dreamer’s web
The Crawling Chaos, Nyarlathotep.
Come forward, come see him, don’t be shy,
Capricious humour glinting in his eye
His voice the wild music of Lethean streams
Are you sure this is all still just a dream?
Careful now, don’t be so sure
His mellow words could just be a lure
Night and the spheres’ lovely music and dance
Lead only to the void’s wild vengeance
Bright shine the stars of eternal night
In the depths of a crystal that expanded your sight
A blood-red and shining trapezohedron
Flooding your mind with starry wisdom
Every gaze is one too deep
But at last you wake from sanity’s sleep
Alien orbs with great stone towers
Stirrings in blackne
The Cats of UltharBeware the cats of this small townThe Cats of Ulthar1 month ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And harm not even one.
They are the kings without a crown,
So treat them like your only son.
Most noble are these feline beasts,
And cunning even more.
Anger them and they'll have feasts
And drag you to an eldritch shore.
They claim nine lives on lunar thrones,
Through nine dimensions gazing.
From nineteen men remain just bones
And ninety-nine are Bastet praising.
Death is just a crooked cat,
With mystic glowing eyes.
Source of wonder and of dread,
Your only fellow, bane of mice.
Offer them their due respect,
Their ancient given right.
The dreamland knows the ill effect,
If feline friendship is denied.
This Ulthar is an eerie place,
The safest of the havens.
Once the cats left without trace
And all the rest know just the ravens.
A Mythos' Dawn - Tribute to H.P. LovecraftIn Providence, some time ago,A Mythos' Dawn - Tribute to H.P. Lovecraft2 weeks ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
There lived the strangest man.
He wanted to be just like Poe
And surely was his biggest fan.
He was a hermit, always broke,
No friend of many people.
But every word and feather stroke
Made him a horror writer's steeple.
This gentlemen, he had a gift
And visions quite unique.
He saw the dreamlands through a rift,
From Ulthar's shore to Kadath's peak.
He dreamed and wrote of what he saw
In undeterred obsession.
The abyss, the Old Ones claw,
The eldritch was his sole profession.
He told of the unspeakable,
The gibbous, the insane.
The blasphemous, unthinkable
Crept stady from this writer's brain.
He was a poet of the eerie,
Of the things from distant spheres,
Of the warped, the dark, the dreary
And of the deepest human fears.
He was the father of the madness,
Of Cthulhu and his spawn.
The master of the cosmic badness
And of a mythos' frightful dawn.
Passionate WindsPassionate Winds7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
As the ship sails against the waves,
you can hear the sound of the ocean rising
up to your ears,
and when the moon is at its highest,
you can see it painted upon the upper deck.
As the ship rocks you can see the tide
of the moonlight,
and even the starry heavens as the sky
Some people call this ship, the love boat.
The tongue of the ocean.
Just you and your inamorata.
You can rub her on you, like lotion, make it
as thick as a blanket around these fog horn
Let the captain migrate you passengers
in the same orbit of stars. Taking you into
one night after another with the wind as
your cruise director. It's between the captain
and nature that he brings you this adventure.
She stepped onto the ship, carrying her baggage.
Dressed like a mess, but gorgeous in person.
With her brown coffee eyes and white and
red scleras, the men were surprised and their
minds became boggled.
To the wind she wondered with a question,
Where is my cabin?
She took in a breath then wa
A Song of Obsidian (Edgar Allan Poe Tribute)Upon one Night’s solemn, a dream caressed my soul darkly,A Song of Obsidian (Edgar Allan Poe Tribute)3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I awoke with all light failing, dying in cold winds bewailing
“A ghostly curtain,” I declared!—beyond my window peering;—
A wanton Lover that beshrew my deepest slumber
To what pleasures might arise, before my last breath is taken—
Surely I will ponder in gardens bleeding obsidian
Twas a Winter’s song, I recall—she first loomed upon the ages;
A fable—wherest my skin still broods in those dark torn pages
My beloved once wed;—now an apparition wild and seething
Her beauty tis but a lament, forever lost in my soul, haunting—
This winged-Demon outside, dripping terror from the trees;—
Unto a night of dread—a tempest of ebon seas
Decay hath become wine thru many Moons bleak and passing
Yet this black figure threatens my carriage of madness;—
“I beseech thee,” she bemoaned, clad in crimson shadows
A Goddess or Demon, returned in naked p
*Utopian Thoughts*Portal opened, another world*Utopian Thoughts*6 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Glimpse of Utopia
Before my eyes image unfurled
Weather temperate all year
Crops grow with natural ease
Place of learning, not of fear
Sit with book under trees.
Time ripples perfectly
Nothing hinders divine life
People live completely free
Utopia, no hint of strife.
Music In ColorMusic In Color5 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Ring of Fire
Music in Color
In one form or another
Grasp the Vibrations
Let them Enter your Soul
Hold onto Them
Breathe them In
And then, just Let Go...
Samhains GhostsSamhain´s GhostsSamhains Ghosts5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Look up to the sky
at midnight at Samhain
Do you see them flying?
Do you see them dancing?
Do you hear them laughing?
Do you hear them crying?
They were humans
Long time ago
They were animals
Long time ago
Now they are ghosts
Trapped beyond our world
Shadows in the corner of your eye
Whispers in the silence
This is their night
There are no limits
When they fly
When they dance
When they laugh
When they cry
*House of Mist*Bricks and mortar, old*House of Mist*4 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Garden rambles endlessly
"For Sale" at a price.
Steel their nerves, mental torment
No sale, yet again.
In nooks and crannies
Spectral mist grows ever strong
Fear invades the house
Rooms begin to swarm
Trapped, temporal world.
And with Strange Aeons even Death may Die!And with Strange Aeons even Death may Die!And with Strange Aeons even Death may Die!5 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Those two words, repeated over and over by the patient in his cell, confounded every one of the nurses and medical personnel who tried conversing with him. Were it not for the IV drip in his arm and the fact that he blacked out at random intervals and thus gained a modicum of sleep, he would surely be dead. Even now the strange man was running on borrowed time. He should have been healthy but his vital signs were being ravaged by some unknown malady.
No one knew his name, only that he had been dropped off by an unknown person or persons one blustery night at Blackmore Asylum in Providence, Rhode Island. But it would be an inaccuracy to think that this man was completely insane or gone. His eyes betrayed a sinister, hunted sort of intelligence, a sensation like he knew he was being stalked.
And then there was that logbook the man had held in his possession. The staff weren’t quite sure what to make of it
Something about the sun and the breezeA fleet of a thousand summer sunsSomething about the sun and the breeze8 months ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Invade the earth
and Oh, how their steeds could run!
yea, their neigh was heard from miles away
their hooves made their way down the hills
o they carried their flag and waved them high
made known to them that they would plunder all they could find
o how they unearthed the beryl of red, green and blue from the greenish hills
I saw a beast whose head had rest
Beneath the grass and flowers breeding round its bed
O when it began to rise
His head did touch the borders of the cloudy skies
He let out an almighty roar
Sweeping his arms from his towering fortitude
He made the winds toss and turn in the quiet afternoon
The quiet and domestic green foundation
The ground once shook within its restless persistence
O the heat a pestilence
Still remained a stubborn resident
The sun, crown half worn, half straying from her confidence
Ah, the steeds half tired from tampering
the silent contemplation of the fields
her face though in persistent pride
Ah, the stubborn pri
Liquid PoisonDo I go for the liquid poison to make me feel betterLiquid Poison7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
Have it flow through my veins, making everything disappear little by little
Take a shot of liquid poison to my heart to forget the pain
When the liquid poison fades all your problems are still present
Got to find another outlet to let this pain bleed out
Please don't hurt yourselfI know you’re broken,Please don't hurt yourself1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
You don’t have to be.
I know the world is dark,
Look at the sun.
(I am here for you
My beautiful friend.)
A Closet DeepThey're not hiding they were forcedA Closet Deep10 months ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
with mumbled retorts
quivering red lips sobbing
It's your fault
turn the tumblers of coal
they don't want the world to know
who you are
who you have been with
who you kissed women or men
some are forced in catacombs thick
for their closets are deposits
fear and shame
for the hand that closes the door
other hands will open them
ones who warden you
Have already confined themselves to claustrophobic cells.
Light?Enlighten me,Light?5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
For my stellar light turns feeble.
Do I want to see?
I’m trying to find shelter into my own shadow,
For it drags me to The Hollow -
The hungering night that bends my mind.
Will I ever be refined?
For my stellar light is flashing,
Do I really want to see?
Instill blood into my veins,
For I have been dehumanized –
I’m tangled up with an eternal haze.
Only the darkness remains.
For my stellar light has died,
I don’t want to see…
Strange FruitsSilence hung over the man stooped over the wooden desk. His eyes meticulously scanned a stack of papers illuminated by an unassuming lamp. An occasional murmur escaped his lips as he checked and circled sections with an old inkwell pen. A deep sonorous hum carried through the brick walls, lulling him into a twilight state of rest. A nagging hiss in the back of his head ensured he would not fall asleep.Strange Fruits6 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
A light clicked on, refracting off the peeling white walls of the small room and a lonely spring bed nestled in the corner. The man at the desk raised his head to the light. His eyes were crusted at the edges. He wiped a small trail of drool from the corner of his mouth, taking several moments to fully register the light.
The chair fell back with his sudden rise. He turned to the door opposite the bed and, grasping the metal handle, wrenched it open. He jogged out into a low granite hallway with flickering florescent bulbs lining the ceiling. His white lab coat bounced on his wiry frame
ConquerFive years of not knowing what is wrong with me, doctor after doctors telling me basically there is nothing wrong with me, people thinking in its in my headConquer6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I knew that there was something wrong with me
Finally someone listened and I thank god for that special woman
But somedays I just feel like I am gonna break
This pain I swear is the vilest feel like I am being stabbed
My memory goes out the window sometimes I can not remember anything even if my life depended on it
I can not concentrate on anything
Short tempered on everything
But I will conquer this day and this attack will pass till next time
*Deception*No need for pretence*Deception*6 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I felt demise of passion
Hard lesson to learn.
Sculptor of DisasterAnxiety chips away at meSculptor of Disaster6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
like a sculptor working on
their greatest masterpiece;
forming me to become something
I don't wish to be and reducing
me to nothing more than a hunk of
granite and stone.
Every time I fail to wrestle the chisel
from the death grip of my worry;
I feel a little bit more of me die
and gather at my feet, nothing but a pile of
dust waiting to be blown away in the
Securing the fact that I am nothing more than
my anxiety allows me to be.
MordecaiMr Kettering, a stout stubble faced man of thirty, stood hand poised ready to knock. Before him loomed an ominous ebony door, polished and illuminated by the striking glare of a nearby lamppost, it's gaseous flame flickered nonchalant. A confetti of snow had begun to collect over Mr Kettering's lacklustre brown jacket. He shuffled his thick soled boots. The cold was nipping his cheeks in a petty manner as is the wont of a premature snowstorm. Mr Kettering raised his knuckles again. Hesitant he rapped a couple of times. Silence. The wind around him howled. Behind him a merry threesome swayed to and fro up a long pavement. Listening to them as they cajoled. He assumed that they were on a return trip home or were just navigating towards their next drinking hole.Mordecai5 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
After a time the ominous door creaked open. Mr Kettering stepped through. No one was there. No servant to greet him. No master of the house to inquire of his business. A simple straight forward hall. A cubby hole of a hall. Mr Ket
I am a doll.I am a doll,I am a doll.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dark brown eyes, and golden locks of hair
A white flower tucked behind my ear
And with a perfunctory smile painted on cracked lips
I am a doll,
The laces on my yellow dress are torn
Revealing tainted porcelain skin
Manipulated; held up by fine, fragile strings
I am a doll,
Kiss my cheek, slap the other side
No emotions, no dreams to tear apart
I can satisfy your malevolence
I am a doll,
Pick me up, tear me down
Stroke my hair, pull it out
Impertinence does not surprise anymore
I am a doll,
With no human mouth to scream
No real eyes to reveal brokenness
No flesh no reach for healing.
Sword Play“Swords!” panted Natalia, hands wrapped around her kneecaps and hunched in over herself. “Who the hell comes after a person with swords.”Sword Play5 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“I think it was a Scottish claymore,” said Michael. “Fifteenth century and in really good nick by the looks of it.”
“I think you’re missing the bit where the chick with the pink Mohawk tried to take your head off.”
“She had a good swing. I’ll give her that.”
“HEAD! NECK! NEAR DECAPITATION!” spat Natalia! “Do I really need to repeat myself?”
“Well at least it wasn’t machine guns this time and you were rather good holding your own against her,” Michael shrugged.
“I had a piece of lead piping!” Natalia spat. “She nearly killed me!”
“But we got the hard drive,” he pointed out.
“Which crazy chick sliced in half with her sword before we took her down,” said Natalia dryly.