Four-and-Twenty CultistsSing along everyone - this one's rather jolly! (the rhyming scheme at least).
I saw angels dance with devils
under winter's crystal sky.
Old men passed between them,
crying "Dead men never die!"
Then the oceans fell before us,
as the dead began to sing.
Heavens parted wider;
winds prickled at our skin.
Now Satan awakes slowly,
like shadows on the sands.
Together we beg forgiveness,
as he lacerates our hands.
The landscape lies broken,
as stones roll through the hills.
Stars are growing brighter,
fed by blood of untold kills.
Death bends his toxic breath,
exuding nameless streams.
and crimson coloured dreams.
HP Lovecraft's Blasphemous Quest for... MilkAs I sit here, a ruined man, I pray that mankind may never come to know the hideous Truth that drove my mind from the pitiful jest grinning fools term 'reality', and deep into the damnable gulfs of screaming insanity.HP Lovecraft's Blasphemous Quest for... Milk2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was on a brooding day in that most blasphemous month of March when I set out upon my fateful quest. The preceding night I had disinterred the final carton of homogenised lactic potable from my hideously-aged refrigeratory machine. Now, the morning of the 12th, I was desirous that this worthy liquid be replenished in time for that most noble and beautiful of ancient man's aureate ceremonies: breakfast.
The hideous rising sun had scarce penetrated the ghoul-haunted abysses of night, when an abominable stab of hunger assailed the narrow confines of my stomach.
Long had I dreaded the arrival of this evil omen; this mocking portent.
In the preceding weeks I had amassed apparatus and equipment in anticipation of the dread event. Long nights had I spent studying ancien
Encroaching TerrorHuckle-hunting crack-backed wormsEncroaching Terror3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
'neath jeering, leering tangled forms.
Branches breaking, bending, sending
shivers down my mangled spine.
Fine, everything's just fine.
Backward glancing, I see dancing
shadows, shadows that aren't mine.
Time, time ever racing, chasing,
pacing, my footsteps ever hastening;
tasting the seconds as they fade away.
Decay comes quickly, sickly;
stenches, wrenches my groaning gut.
Moaning, roaming through the leaves,
weaves the yearning, burning thing of night.
Sight, I am robbed of sight.
Blinding, something hidden binding,
twining, snaking round my aching useless eyes.
Sighs, the sighs of something very close;
those whispered, blistered wrecks of breath.
Death, the final fleck, silently shivers,
my withered slivered, writhing neck.
ApsaraFind me sunken into theApsara3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lotus field, bathing skin silvergreen,
waist-deep and pink
in sunset, and we will cry:
for three-faced elephants,
for the dancers threading grace
between their fingertips—
until I dress in the heaviness,
a sarong of heat.
Love's Cold WhisperNot a whisper, not a thought,Love's Cold Whisper3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Though alone I walk,
I feel the cost,
And every day, I'm chilled by frost.
And every year, the thoughtful few
Sing to me to lessen my pain,
It never cleans,
My soul's blood stain,
And soft sweet voices become my bane.
And every life I've lived as yet
Has seen me walk alone.
And even the radiant light
The sun has shown
Can do nothing to warm my bones.
PeonyAlone, but forPeony3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the red boots marching
cathedral heart: I
am beating echoes
in this city of the
stepping little girl's
dreams, I visit mama
in the night; but
flowers and wine won't
pay for her light.
How one Dead Views the LivingMy life had always been painted in sombre greys. In death, how it blossoms!How one Dead Views the Living3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
When the rains come, the watery drops fall like tears of ink: echoing and dancing across sparkling sapphire puddles. The sun, a golden mystic orb, shedding its beauty on all it touches.
I see rustic weather-beaten cragged faces of the old, set with eyes of faded blue. I behold bright smiles and blushes upon the fat cheeks of the young. My ears prickle with the twirling thousand-noted song of birds. The beauty of all these things I never observed in life, now bursts upon my ripened senses - in death.
In a trance I view this new-found paradise. Life, I have come to realise, is most beautiful to the spectator. The spectator has no need for understanding or judgement.
I look upon a derelict dilapidated street, filthy with squalor. I cast my eyes over the crumbling paintwork of rotting window frames, housing broken panes. Here and there sickly weeds break through mouldering masonry.
Oh what a picture, what a spectac
MuselingRed wine ramblesMuseling3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
curdle the air, but still
you dream; half-moon
body curled in the
lamp light. I am leaving,
I am leaving, choking on
some holy word—
the floorboards creak,
a sonata for my
whilst you, hair tangled upon
the pillow, are spun gold.
the gardenerthe wildflower truths have spread to your garden,the gardener3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and you cut them down like weeds,
your tired hands chopping off the head
of the hydra.
it always reappears,
stronger and more lethal.
the pain it brings is just as resilient
but you cover it up with plastic sheeting
until every emotion feels compulsory,
the smell of new cars,
lab coat white,
too clean to
but you have dirt under your fingernails,
after pulling out
roots from the ground.
you weighed them in your hands to examine their worth,
but came up with nothing,
not an ounce of the answers you hoped to find.
Hollow Memory of a Distant ShoreYou are like a long passed season.Hollow Memory of a Distant Shore3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
As delicate as the footprints of sparrows in freshly fallen snow.
Intricate, yet so easily disturbed when care is not taken.
Somehow, you have managed to persist after all these years.
Residing in the same quiet place you carved into the woods so long ago..
Only a short ride from the sea.
When you cross my mind, you carry with you the scent of that shoreline.
Harsh and thick, yet somehow placating.
Though the weather was perpetually gray, misty, and cold.
Much like your heart had become..
Just before we painfully, and slowly, parted ways.
I recall with deep longing your fascination with foxes.
With the way they would trot up and down the beach in the early morning,
Their coats most often wet and muddy from crossing into the tide.
I could see the subtle enthrallment in your eyes as they dug for clams.
They would thrust their forepaws deep into the muck, throw it backward..
And at times, to my assuagement, you would smile.
Now, it feels more dist
apart.and I was sitting in the gutterapart.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
after trying for the fourth night in a row
to drown you along with
all my other ghosts
and the church
was across the street
cross lit up high in the sky
and it felt
like the complete
opposite of salvation.
it was 4am
and with the neon blue
shining in my eye line
i realised i was alone
i was utterly alone
in the saddest way possible.
don't say nothey had said,don't say no2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
long before i met you
that the truth is known for its
punch in the gut;
it picks at the skin
on your forehead till it
peels off like the zest
of a pregnant orange,
bitter on your fingers
but so sweet
on your tongue.
is a typical symptom
of truth but
no one ever said
that you would exhaust
by the time it was
my turn to listen.
You are not an islandI have been alone. This man is an island.You are not an island3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The cliffs of my shoulder blades
hang heavy with grief, ore, suffering.
I am draped with the permanence of gravity,
So do not believe that you cannot move.
Come to me, water babes fully grown,
Allow yourself to be swept in salt and ash.
Tumble with your brothers into my arms
and be at peace, at last, on the shore.
I too was once drowned, but I arose
and as the caps melt, all things will erode
For no man is an island alone.
fathomand since you asked,fathom2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
yes, this is how
I always see you:
bright toxic viridian,
like a bowlful of
like an ocean
sliced open at the
baring its frigid depths,
each tentacled squid,
each sucker and fin and
parted for me
as if I were Moses,
as if you were the Red Sea,
as if I could see
every wild thing
that teems within you
Ellie, one-oh-one.she doesn't know her name.Ellie, one-oh-one.2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
it isn't surprising really. it has been so long since someone said it with any vigour, any affection, that it seems almost natural for her to have forgotten it.
she has lapsed into herself. her shoulders, with their warm-hearted mammal bones, quiver and shake beneath the weight of her own uneasiness. her arms, they shiver and the bruises ripple slowly - rocks in a pond. she has turned fetal.
the voices shudder as they cry out into the emptiness of her soul, their lips casting names against her chasms. none of them stick, none of them strike open the shell of her heart and set her aflame. none of them wake her from this coma, this darkness.
the world contracts and stumbles into yet another winter around her. it freezes her bones and the leafless trees whisper apologies into her matted hair, her flaking skin. the earth sends kisses up through the soles of her feet, the sagging flesh of her backside.
the world apologizes into her and the voices cry but her stoma
Seven Sins 1: Lust (The Squire)What is this mindless mood I mourn?Seven Sins 1: Lust (The Squire)3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I brush her bloody hands as she ignores my cries,
And I will not hate but say heed these sighs.
Once I desired her darling delight,
As I perished by poison to forget about her pitiful plight.
Her face fixes it's gaze upon mine,
Bordered with raven hair knotted and bold,
Was she really young or was my heart too old?
How I would watch her from atop a white hill,
Waiting until sad skies hailed a stormy sign.
What is this elusive emotion I elope?
I touch her taut lips as she walks by me,
And I do not stop but ask when will she see?
Once I lusted her loving lamentation,
As I stared in silence for her scarlet seduction.
Her face fades it's smile away now,
Sullied with pale rain marred and still,
Was she really evil or was my mind too ill?
How I would wander to see her in a red town,
Tormenting until glad ghosts wailed a grisly glow.
What is this fearsome feeling I feel?
I catch her cold eyes as she passes me by,
And I cannot help but ask why did she die?
what they didn't tell mei was three when i looked up into thewhat they didn't tell me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
saw the stars.
those lights twinkled at me,
told me their names &
they showed me how to tie knots,
taught me how to dance, &
how to appreciate something when you thought you
draco said he never looked away,
but he must have because
i was pushed.
i fell and not even pegasus could catch me.
they never told me how to love,
but maybe they don’t know quite what it means
to be star-crossed.
WishmasterA whisper, in cold skies of old, dying starsWishmaster3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is heard, and their lingering death
With not one regret turns and scatters in waste,
As realms of shattered humanity haste
To live and to burn out their breath.
Yet soon there's a scream, a small cry of despair
That binds all the skies to avail,
And one daring soul stands behind to convey
His wish to unravel all living dismay,
To bury his past and prevail.
And thus it begins, as no man can escape
The sweet domination of want,
While stars burn and shine, for so he allows,
The master of wishes that hastily vows
To bring forth desires to grant.
But no man can endure the cruel truth behind,
The wasteland of the human fate,
As all exploration of such fragile minds
Leads only to nothing, and all that it finds
Are fragments of wishes and hate.
And so he remains, whose new story of life
Has neither a middle nor end.
For stars will grow cold and will wantonly die
When wishes are old, while humanity’s lie
Of life will no longer commend.
DreamerDreamer :Dreamer5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Dreams envisage reality
When asleep in the dead of the night
Idea's can come to mind
One can remember the location of lost belongings
Can relive moments they cherish
Or return to a home long gone
Dreams can bring answers to anything for one
Or pass you on to one long gone with mourning
A dream is a tool
It's the dream where the human mind is strongest
Where subconscious thoughts run riot
It is where answers can be found
A Desolate LandscapeSoon this memoryA Desolate Landscape7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
will fade, much
like the night
that harbored a
If an escape
is what you
is forever desired,
calling you back
If, though, the
darkness of the
dream that so
mind does not
release you from
its grasp, what
other ways will
you seek to
At that end,
do you wish
to be granted
than a priest?
your tomb that
seem like wisdom
to those who
grieve, yet his
heart is not
in your corridor....
August 18th, 2008
A Night of CrowsSoul dark her eyes bleed obsidian, like a fever of liquid-shadows,A Night of Crows3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
seeking her lover damned…
And a myriad of talons will seed the sky — a primeval calling
of necromancy and lust untamed
Upon her breath, I whispered softly in winged-caress:
"cast thy nightscapes unto the ache of gossamer streams"
So she closed her eyes and her demon lover hungered long..
— Forever the Crow — shimmering in her darkest dreams
— Arthur Crow © 2012
ReminderI was sitting by myself on the cement, looking up at the stars.Reminder3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Their all so pretty....the way they shine, I always wonder if they have a thought process, because some nights, they seem as if they want to hide, and just fade away into the sky.
But strangely, when I need to find that one star, that was hidden for nights at a time,
it would appear, as if it heard me calling its name.
And as I looked up upon the star, I just knew that everything would be fine.
When the time was right, it would disappear, and I would just go on with my life, and look at all the other stars, still thinking about that one.
It was different from the rest, it had a aura of its own. It was so bright, it lit up the sky around
it as if it was its very own moon, but inside of its pure radiance, was its own shade of blue.
It was almost sad.
I say that, because even though it appeared down, it seemed as if it was happy about something else, it was strange.
It was as if the star itself had just found out s