Monthly Archives: March 2017

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

New; Knew

I Don’t Know If Its New,
But I Do Know It Was New To me;
Nor Had I Ever Heard
Such a Thing Described To me.
For I Don’t Believe
They Are From This World or Any Other.
Demons Ripped From Another Dimension;
Nightmares Rendered Real.
Crazy I Know.
That Is Why I am Writing This,
Because Only On Paper
Can I UnLeash
This Torrent of Conflicting Emotion.
To Try To Make Some Sense of It,
To UnBurden my Mind,
Because Sex & Drink
Just Doesn’t Make It.
the First Time
I Was Drifting Through Some Southern Towns
& I Came Upon It,
In a Glass Case;
a Human Brain
With Filaments
Like Spiders’
Legs
& It Spoke To me,
In my Brain of Its Need to ImPregnate me.
I Escaped & Returned to Kill It
& Its Keeper.
Once Again
When I Was Working
As a Carny In a Run Down Town,
I Dealt Death to Another
In the Visage of An InSane Clown.
Nothing In the News Papers,
No Bounty On my Head;
I Know I Killed Them;
I Know Their Dead.
I Don’t Want to Go Back;
I Don’t Know If I Should.
Scared,
Edgy,
Shot Gun By the Bed;
Crazy,
MayBe;
I Can’t Get Them Out Of my Head.
I Can’t Stay I Have To Go.
Wait;
What Was That,
a Knock On the Door.
#B27321 

https://theprose.com/post/143098/new-knew

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Jean-Léon Gérôme

How Much

Fukushima Was the Beginning Of the End,
the Radiation Seeping Into Our Oceans;
Causing Mutations & InSanity;
From Fish to Man.
Driving Them to Feast On the UnInfected;
a World Damned.
I Still Dream Of the Food Riots,
When we Could No Longer Eat From the Sea.
the Crashing & Burning of Cities;
Parents Eating Kids.
Cops Going Door to Door
Rounding People Up For the Cattle Camps,
the Old & Sick Shot
& Cooked In the Street.
How I Survived Still Mystifies,
aLone & Not One Friend;
All Ways Running,
Running For the Hills.
So Many Things Have I Done
& the Things I Know I Will Do
Just To Survive Another Setting Sun.
How Many Lives Must I Take
to Pay For Mine.
#B27321 

https://theprose.com/post/141276/how-much

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Gustave Dore

Fuck, Fuck; Fucked

To be
Fucked
Is What
It Means
to Cross me.
the Bitter
Sting
Of
the Raping
by Pen
& Prose.
As
I Ram
my Cock
Down
the Throat
Of you
Dirty Hoes
& the
InSanity
In me
Giggles
As you
Try
to Scream
No.
In & Out,
In & Out,
While
I Fuck
your Mouth;
Gurgle
& Moan.
the Rape
Of
your Brain
With Rhymes
That Won’t
Slow,
Till
a Quivering
Wreck
Is All
That’s Left.
a Twisted
Bit
of Crumpled
Paper;
Wasted.
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/140584/fuck-fuck-fucked

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Jean-Léon Gérôme

Hate

Is the

Slate

That Tallies

my Wrongs

#B27321

Leave a comment

Filed under Posts

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Howard Pyle

Shards

of Agony

& How

we Bleed;

the Past,

Imprisoning

#B27321

Leave a comment

Filed under Posts