Hello Fiends,
Here is another excerpt from a little book of death poems I am writing called ‘101 Ways To Die, Accidents, Murders, And Other Techniques To Lose A Life’. This little morsel involves our favorite Victorian serial killer with a penchant for organ removal. Enjoy!
In the hours past midnight
Taking a shortcut home
Down a dark alley
Chilled to the bone
A hard day on the job
Not the profession you’d think
A harlot, a whore
A woman of the streets
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Hello Fiends,
Here is another excerpt from a little book of death poems I am writing called ‘101 Ways To Die, Accidents, Murders, And Other Techniques To Lose A Life’. I wrote this after I overheard one of my neighbors complaining about a tree that was hanging over into his yard and dropping leaves on his lawn. Enjoy!
The seasons are a changing
Shedding dead autumn leaves
They tumble through the air
On a mission to flee
You rake and you rake
But they just reappear
That damn neighbor’s tree
You tell him each year
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Fifty miles
Deep within the woods
A backpacking adventure
Sounded pretty good
Fresh mountain stream
Crisp mountain air
Not a cloud in the sky
Nor a single care
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Hello boils and ghouls,
In celebration of the season I’m going to post a few lines a day of a Halloween poem that I am working on, with the whole thing coming to a close on Halloween morning. So, enjoy and don’t forget to check back everyday until Halloween for more.
A skeleton hand
I extend to you
A ghastly invitation
That is bleeding right through
Open the box
Peer inside
A severed finger
To jog the mind
Did you remember
To R.S.V.P.
Or will you rest in peace
In the ossuary?
I hope you’ll attend
In the grimist of fashion
A celebration of sorts
In my haunted mansion
Let the festivities begin…
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Happy birthday, happy birthday
Happy birthday to you
You told all your friends
Now what will they do
Excitement, anticipation
Building within your bones
A day of self-importance
And your ego has grown
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Such a special event
The night of your prom
Perfect hair, perfect dress
Just try to remain calm
The butterflies take flight
Everything feels so new
Tonight you’re a princess
Fairy tales do come true
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Hello Fiends,
This is the sequel to another poem I have posted on here called ‘A Curious Electricity’.
The days crawl in and the years crawl out
Spreading an infection of contentment and doubt
Then in times of unrest, October drops in
To check up on the person you’ve become and see how you’ve been
A time when inanimate objects are methodically given face
Fears are no longer concealed, but eagerly embraced
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No more school
Summer is finally here
Now it’s off to boys camp
After a long boring year
With your bags all packed
Leave the parents behind
No homework, no chores
It’s time to unwind
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There is nothing better
When your legs start to hurt
Than sitting in your recliner
After a day of hard work
A beer in one hand
Cigarette in the other
The television flickers
As sleep begins to smother
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Is it wrong,
To have a corpse in my bed?
I do not think so,
Even if she is dead.
I do not think it is disturbing,
I do not think it is a crime.
Even though she has been expired,
for quite some time.
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Leaves begin to die and fall from the trees,
Leaving them bare and lifeless.
Don’t let this fool you,
It’s really just a rebirth.
A strange breeze begins.
It’s not the hot breeze of summer,
Nor the cold breeze of winter,
But something in-between.
A perfect combination of two drastically different worlds.
The calm before the storm,
Like standing in the eye of a hurricane.
Everything is quiet and still.
Something beautifully sinister is brewing.
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What if life came with a strategy guide?
What if life had a pause button?
What if life were as easy as passing the first level?
What if life had a restart button?
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Pitch black darkness.
Civilization off in the distance.
Winding mountain roads.
Unsure directions.
Unfamiliar surroundings.
Eerie moonlight.
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Shade is the dim, the dark, the shadowy places underneath.
Shade is the damp, the dank, the hollowed places inbetween.
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Harken Strangers! So you’ve come here on this dark and stormy night to hear my dastardly little tale. Let me begin by saying, that no matter how shocking it may seem, every crimson ounce of it is true. I am an advocate of mischief and a creator of turmoil. I compose ghastly music based on eerie circumstance and delightful tragedy in the band Creature Feature and the band Rufus Rex. I direct strange films depicting ill-fated events and ghoulish irony. I am a writer of the macabre, as opposed to a revolver, I use a sharpened pencil to displace my brains. I gently squeeze the trigger and splatter the page with metaphor. Read, watch, and listen, you never know what wonderful terrible things you might unearth.
If you enjoy my website and like what I do, please donate toward my film projects, they desperately need it.
