September 26, 2017 · 4:14 pm
Howard Pyle
Silent Reign
–
Silence
How
It
Reigns
a Rain
of Pain
to Cut
Furrows
In
the Hardest
Heart
the Stain
Of
the Grave
Holding Us
a Part
Putrid Flesh
That
Will Never
Heat
With Love
Again
Coffin Wood
Is Now
your Bed
my Dear
&
my Words
I Fear
you
Will Never
Hear
Just
the EndLess
Wait
to Join
your Side
the Reply
To you
& I
Never Separate
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Again, B27321, Bed, Coffin, Coffin Wood, Cut, Dear, Discord, Endless, EndLess Wait, Fear, Flesh, Freedom, Furrows, Grave, Harbinger, Hardest, Hardest Heart, Hear, Heart, Heat, Holding, How, Howard Pyle, Join, Just, Love, Never, Never Separate, Now, Pain, Part, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Putrid, Putrid Flesh, Rain, Reign, Reigns, Reply, Revolution, Separate, Side, Silence, Silent, Silent Reign, Slavery, Stain, Wait, Will, Wood, Words, Wyrd
August 15, 2017 · 1:45 am
Henry Fuseli
First Timer
–
My Worst One Nighter
Followed me Down the Line of my Life.
When I First Fell Down That Well;
Old Was I Having Spent Most of Life In the Pen.
She Was a Present All Willow & Wine,
Fluid In Motion & What a Slick Grip.
a Real Home Coming In True Gangster Land Style
the Party Lasting Well Into Night.
me & Her Going At It Not Caring the Sight.
Stabbing & Stabbing With my Long Knife.
Dripping & Spent Then Into Her Mouth
a Grin Full of Sin & Back To the Mill.
Tired Was I After We Toweled & Dried.
Getting Into Bed I Thought This the Best It Ever Been.
It Was All So UnTrue As They Crept In my Room.
To Silence the Things Never Mouthed But I Knew.
Shoot Us They Did As I Used Her To Defend,
Bullets Cutting Through Her Turning Living Flesh To Dead.
Her Eyes Wide In Surprise As They Dripped Down my Thigh.
Night After Night That Is What I See
Endlessly Reminding That the Chunks Were a She.
An Ash Tray Was All I Could Find As I Used Her To Hide.
Kill Them I Did Again & Again
But Never Was I In Time.
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Ash, Ash Tray, B27321, Bed, Best, Dead, Discord, Find, First Timer, Freedom, Gangster, Gangster Land, Grip, Harbinger, Henry Fuseli, Kill, Life, Long Knife, Never, Night, Nighter, One, One Nighter, Party, Pen, Poetry, Present, Prison, Prose, Revolution, Room, Silence, Sin, Slavery, Slick, Slick Grip, Style, Surprise, Time, Toweled, Tray, True, True Gangster Land Style, Well, Willow, Wine, Worst, Worst One Nighter, Wyrd
April 29, 2017 · 10:26 am
Henry Fuseli
Ravioli Knights
–
Infidelity
a Broken Ring,
a Vow
That Means
Nothing Now,
Lies
Like Spread Thighs;
Cottage Cheese For Seasoning.
True
That Should Have Been
Like Glue,
Not
Like Rot
Seven Seasons Dead.
In This Room
I Have Been Held
For the Murders of you
I Thought a Friend
& the Mob Who
Bought It
Trying For my Head.
Just me you See
With a Canned Good
Against you
& Three.
the Misery I With Stood
2 To the Chest
& One Beside the Eye.
Yes,
the 45 Caliber Kind.
to Drain & Die
On This Kitchen Floor
Was Not What I Was Made For.
If I Was to Die
It Was to Be In Battle Sweet
or Between the Legs
of a Lady Riding High.
Not Treachery
Both Foul & Deep.
Luring me With Sex & Song
to the Valley of Sleep;
Having Done
I Went For a Bottle of Beer
& Surprise Who Should I Meet
But 3 Long Shadows
Waiting There For me.
Flash,
Flash,
Flash,
Down I Was InDeed,
Blood Red Agony,
Not a Breath to Breathe,
Pain Bright Dizzying.
Laying There Wondering
If This Was the End For me,
the Vest Had Not Held
& Crimson Was Blossoming.
They Left to Check & See,
To Get the Stuff to Dismantle me.
In the Tub to Bleed
& Then the Cutting;
No, No,
Not For me
As I Slipped Ravioli In a Sock.
First,
I Came to Crush your Skull
my Lovely Little Girl.
Then the Man
Who Came to Gut me Like a Pig
& Then the 2
to Help Move.
It Was Such a Gristly Scene,
Had to Be Burning.
I Will Never Forget
That Night.
Standing Above
Those Broken Things
Screaming Triumphantly
As the Kerosene Burned Bright,
Ravioli Nights
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as 2, 3 Long, 45, 45 Caliber, Above, Agony, Battle, Battle Sweet, Been, Beer, Beside, Between, Bleed, Blood, Blood Red Agony, Blossoming, Both, Bottle, Bottle of Beer, Bought, Bought It, Breath, Breathe, Bright, Broken, Broken Ring, Broken Things, Burned, Burned Bright, Burning, Caliber, Came, Canned, Canned Good, Check, Cheese, Chest, Cottage, Cottage Cheese, Crimson, Crush, Cutting, Dead, Deep, Die, Dismantle, Dizzying, Done, Down, Drain, End, Eye, First, Flash, Floor, ForGet, Foul, Friend, Get, Glue, Good, Gristly, Gristly Scene, Gut, Had, Head, Held, Help, Henry Fuseli, High, InDeed, Infidelity, It, Kerosene, Kind, Kitchen, Kitchen Floor, Knights, Lady, Laying, Left, Legs, Lies, Like, Little Girl, Long Shadows, Lovely, Lovely Little Girl, Luring, Made, Man, Means, Meet, Misery, Mob, Move, Murders, Never, Night, Nights, No, Not, Nothing, Now, One, Pain, Pain Bright Dizzying, Pig, Prose, Ravioli, Ravioli Knights, Ravioli Nights, Red, Riding, Riding High, Ring, Room, Rot, Scene, Screaming, Screaming Triumphantly, Seasoning, Seasons, See, Seven, Seven Seasons, Seven Seasons Dead, Sex, Shadows, Should, Skull, Sleep, Slipped, Sock, Song, Spread, Spread Thighs, Standing, Stood, Stuff, Such, Surprise, Sweet, There, They, Thighs, Things, Those, Those Broken, Those Broken Things, Thought, Three, Treachery, Triumphantly, True, Trying, Tub, Valley, Valley of Sleep, Vest, Vow, Waiting, Went, Who, Will, With, With Stood, Wondering, Yes
April 11, 2017 · 11:16 pm
Howard Pyle
Mickey’s Christmas Hit Men
–
Empire
–
Walt
is your
Daddy
&
Mickey
has Come
to Collect
#B27321
–
Mickey Is
What He’s All Ways Been
a Hit Man
For the Disney Mob.
Whether He’s Playing
the Pencil Pushing Hapless Scribe;
Meek & Needy,
So Poor He Doesn’t Have a Dime
or As an Enforcer
For the King of Crime.
He Was Working
For Ebenezer
the Richest Duck
In All the Land
& to Get the Money
for Walt
He Had a Devious Plan.
Drive That Scrooge
to InSanity
With Pity & ReMorse
at All the Dirty Deeds
That Have Bloodied
His Red Hands,
Because you See
Wealth
Was the Source
of All His Wicked Pride.
Forcing All the Children
to Work For Him
Not Disney
In His Hellish Mine,
Starving
as They Worked
Cannibalism
Would Break Out
From Time to Time.
Laughing At the Shillings
He Would Save
When the Killings
Began Again
Maybe Even
This Very Day.
Did He Reminisce
About the Many Rivals
He Had Killed
aLong His Long Black Past.
Namely,
That Goofy Jacob Marley
He Garroted
With His Own Two Fists
or That Whore
He Loved
Named Daisy
Who Gave Him
a Horrible Fit
of the Drip
& How About
When He Sold His Soul
to the Agent of Satan;
the Mighty Mr. Toad.
Who He Killed Out of Envy
to Gain the Formers Role
to Live As Long As Ever
If He Never Lost Control.
He Had Minnie
& Timmy
& Even the Giant Willie
to Help Him Carry Out
His Evil Scheme
to Put That Duck Through the Ringer
& Squeeze Out Every Thing.
For Only Two Choices
Does He Have
Visit Him
With Three Dark Sins
or Put Him In a Can.
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as About, Again, Agent, Agent of Satan, B27321, Because, Began, Bloodied, Break, Break Out, Cannibalism, Carry, Children, Choices, Christmas, Collect, Control, Crime, Daisy, Dark, Dark Sins, Day, Deeds, Devious, Devious Plan, Dime, Dirty, Dirty Deeds, Discord, Disney, Disney Mob, Drip, Drive, Duck, Ebenezer, Empire, Enforcer, Envy, Even, Ever, Evil, Evil Scheme, Fists, Fit, Forcing, Formers, Freedom, Gain, Garroted, Gave, Giant, Giant Willie, Goofy, Hands, Hapless, Hapless Scribe, Harbinger, Hellish, Hellish Mine, Help, Hit, Hit Man, Hit Men, Horrible, Horrible Fit, How, Howard Pyle, Insanity, Jacob, Jacob Marley, Killed, Killings, King, Land, Laughing, Live, Long, Long Black, Long Black Past, Lost, Loved, Man, Many, Marley, Maybe, Meek, Men, Mickey, Mickey's, Mickey's Christmas, Mickey's Christmas Hit Men, Mighty, Mighty Mr. Toad, Mine, Minnie, Mob, Money, Mr., Mr. Toad, Named, Namely, Needy, Never, Only, Out, Own, Past, Pencil, Pencil Pushing, Pity, Plan, Playing, Poetry, Poor, Pride, Prison, Prose, Pushing, Red, Red Hands, Reminisce, ReMorse, Revolution, Richest, Ringer, Rivals, Role, Satan, Save, Scheme, Scribe, Scrooge, Shillings, Sins, Slavery, Sold, Soul, Source, Squeeze, Starving, Three, Three Dark Sins, Time, Timmy, Toad, Two, Two Choices, Two Fists, Visit, Walt, Wealth, When, Whether, Who, Whore, Wicked, Wicked Pride, Willie, Work, Worked, Working, Wyrd
April 3, 2017 · 4:51 pm
Howard Pyle
Rejection; Depression
–
Rejection
a Word
I Know
All too Well,
a Word
That Has Burned a Hole;
Marked my Soul.
Driven me To be a Lone.
Never to Know Home,
to Own Nothing,
But Scars I Can Not Hide;
That Multiply
With Each Passing Day.
They Weigh One After Another;
Suffer.
That Is the Bread I Break,
the Ache
of Never a Praise
or a Raise
to Lift me a Moment
From my Torment.
my Eyes Search
For Why
This Has to Be my Fate
& May Be
I Cry
Just a Little
When I Remember
It Is Too Late,
To Begin a New;
to Bloom.
So I Huddle In my Covers
& Dream Dreams of Death.
For I Have Not the Courage Yet,
to Die;
Sublime
& In my Mind
I Find
Depression At Its Best,
a Laughing Joke,
Another Poke;
That I am Neither a Live or Dead
Just Shambling Through
One More Room
In This Tomb
I Call Life
& I Wonder To my Self
Could This Be a Test;
Then I Smile;
Liar.
Don’t Bother Trying
It Will End
Just Like the Rest.
So Don’t Sit & Fret.
It Can’t Be Met,
Perhaps It’s Time
to Rile Up
the Demons In your Breast;
To Summon Up
All the Angst & Hate
& Serve Them Up a Bitter Plate
Rife With Gun & Knife.
So They May Share
the Loss That Is my Life.
These Are the Things
That Swirl Through my Brain,
That Drive me InSane;
Red,
Raw,
Murder.
Shall I Take your Hand
ForSake This Land
or Am I too Weak,
Another Loss I Think.
Another Rejection
to Add to my List of Depression,
a Debilitating Disease
That Will Have you On your Knees.
Not Good For a Thing
That Is How It Has me
With Out
Hope
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Ache, Add, After, Angst, Another, B27321, Begin, Best, Bitter, Bloom, Bother, Brain, Bread, Break, Breast, Burned, Call, Courage, Covers, Cry, Day, Dead, Death, Debilitating, Debilitating Disease, Demons, Depression, Die, Discord, Disease, Don't, Dream, Dreams, Drive, Driven, Each, End, Eyes, Fate, Find, ForSake, Freedom, From, Good, Gun, Hand, Harbinger, Hate, Hide, Hole, Home, Hope, How, Howard Pyle, Huddle, InSane, Joke, Just, Knees, Knife, Know, Land, Late, Laughing, Liar, Life, Lift, Like, List, Little, Live, Lone, Loss, Marked, May, Met, Mind, Moment, More, Multiply, murder, Neither, Never, New, Not, Nothing, One, Own, Passing, Perhaps, Plate, Poetry, Poke, Praise, Prison, Prose, Raise, Raw, Red, Rejection, Remember, Rest, Revolution, Rife, Rile, Room, Scars, Search, Self, Serve, Shall, Shambling, Share, Sit, Slavery, Smile, Soul, Sublime, Suffer, Summon, Swirl, Take, Test, Think, Tomb, Torment, Trying, Weak, Weigh, Well, When, Why, Will, Wonder, Word, Wyrd, Yet
February 3, 2017 · 4:39 am
Georg Pencz
a Life
UnLived
UnLoved
–
the Death
of Possibility
–
Disposable Society
Consumes you
–
Never
Was
my Name
–
the Greed
of Man
–
the Sands
of Time
–
Filed under Posts
Tagged as 4, 4 Words, B27321, Consumes, Death, Discord, Disposable, Disposable Society, Freedom, Georg Pencz, Greed, Harbinger, Life, Man, Name, Never, Poetry, Possibility, Prison, Revolution, Saddest, Saddest Story, Sands, Slavery, Society, Stories, Time, UnLived, UnLoved, Words, Wyrd
January 28, 2017 · 10:46 pm
Waterhouse
Stranger
–
Stranger,
What Is Stranger
Than Looking
In to the Eyes
of a Man
you Will Never Meet.
a Wooden Effigy
of a Man
Meant to Save me.
Save me,
From What
a World Gone Mad
From Lust & Spite.
From Religions
Screaming Kill, Kill, Kill,
In the Dead of Night.
From Politicians
Who Want
to Control my Every Right.
Stranger,
What Is Stranger
Than the T.V. Blasting Media
to Make me Number & Dumber
Than Ever Before.
Till I am So Scared
of a Quite Mind
That Constant
Stimulation
& Instant Gratification
Has Drove me Nuts.
Stranger,
Staring In to the Eyes
of a Freak,
a Man Who Thinks
He Can Be Free.
That Shackles & Prison
Don’t Mean a Thing.
That Broken Wings Can Fly.
Stranger, That Man Is me,
the Mirror Reflecting
Till Cracks
Are All I See.
Stranger, Stranger, Stranger,
the Stranger Is me.
Cut Off From the World,
Till my Soul Screams
For Human Touch,
But Strangers, Strangers,
Are All I See.
Strangers to the Pain & Tough,
Strangers When we Know
we Die a Lone.
What Is Stranger
Than Forcing my Mind & Thoughts
In to 200 Word Counts,
to Appease
my Greed & your Need.
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as 200, All, Appease, B27321, Before, Blasting, Broken, Broken Wings, Constant, Control, Counts, Cracks, Cut, Cut Off, Dead, Die, Discord, Drove, Dumber, Effigy, Ever, Eyes, Fly, Forcing, Freak, Free, Freedom, From, Gratification, Greed, Harbinger, Human, Human Touch, Instant, Instant Gratification, Kill, Know, Lone, Lust, Mad, Make, Man, Mean, Meant, Media, Meet, Mind, Mirror, Need, Never, Night, Number, Nuts, Off, Pain, Poetry, Politicians, Prison, Prose, Quite, Quite Mind, Reflecting, Religions, Revolution, Right, Save, Scared, Screaming, Screams, See, Shackles, Slavery, So, So Scared, Soul, Spite, Staring, Stimulation, Stranger, Strangers, T.V., Thoughts, Till, Touch, Tough, Want, Waterhouse, What, When, Who, Wings, Wooden, Wooden Effigy, Word, World, Wyrd
May 3, 2016 · 3:07 am
Lawrence Alma-Tadema
Rebel
–
Grey
Would Be
the Color
the Color
Of
my Skies
Like
the Uniform
Of Soldiers
Of Soldiers
Sent Off
To Die
Can
I Help
I Feel
For Banners
For Banners
Covered
In Lies
Maybe
It’s Just
the Battle
the Battle
That Cries
Never
Never
Never Will
you Bend
Never
Never
Never Will
you Win
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as B27321, Banners, Battle, Bend, Color, Covered, Cries, Die, Discord, Feel, Freedom, Grey, Harbinger, Help, Just, Lawrence Alma-Tadema, Lies, Like, Maybe, Never, Off, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Rebel, Revolution, Sent, Skies, Slavery, Soldiers, Uniform, Will, Win, Would, Wyrd
April 25, 2016 · 9:40 pm
Erik Werenskiold
Broken Heart
–
What
Do you
Love
the Most
Now Take
a Hammer
&
Torch
you Feel
That Lump
Deep Down
In your
Throat
That Says
No
I Don’t
Wanna
I’ll Choke
you Know
That
If It
Happens
To Break
It Will
Never
Go Back
the Same
&
the Pain
Will
All Ways
Remain
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as B27321, Back, Break, Broken, Broken Heart, Choke, Deep, Discord, Down, Erik Werenskiold, Feel, Freedom, Hammer, Happens, Harbinger, Heart, Know, Love, Lump, Most, Never, No, Now, Pain, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Remain, Revolution, Same, Slavery, Take, Throat, Torch, Wanna, What, Will, Wyrd
March 18, 2016 · 5:00 pm
Fritz von Wille
Thy Favorite
Spell
Hell
Possibility
Is What
Works
For me
Nothing Written
In Stone
Nothing
to Make
you Groan
This Is
the Way
It Has
to Be
you See
With Possibility
There Is
Never
a Cage
Nor
the Rage
Of Not
Being Free
Only Limits
Of the
Mind
I Find
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as B27321, Cage, Discord, Favorite, Find, Free, Freedom, Fritz von Wille, Groan, Harbinger, Has, Hell, Limits, Make, Mind, Never, Nor, Not, Nothing, Only, Poetry, Possibility, Prison, Prose, Rage, Revolution, See, Slavery, Spell, Stone, Way, What, Works, Written
