Tag Archives: Well

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Fire Side Rhyme

Chest to Chest
Is the Contest
As I Bend your Neck Back
Further Than It Can Stretch
my Fingers Clench
Leaving Crimson Welts
Spittle Flecks
As your Blackened Tongue
Signifies a Job Well Done
& the Fear In your Eyes
As the Light In you Dies
Will Keep me Warm All Winter Long
As I Replay your Death
Again & Again




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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

How the World Fell

They Said It Was an Invisible Planet,
They Were Wrong;
Dead Wrong.
It Was a Second Moon,
a Hellish Moon
to come Ripping Past;
Causing Cataclysmic Damage
& Eclipsing our Sun.
That Orb,
Like a Red Eye;
All Ways Watching,
Like a Scarlet Stain
At the Center of Our Sun;
Blocking a Quarter of It’s Light
& Giving Things a Crimson Cast.
Those That Did Not Die
When the Anarchy Hit,
Soon Perished
In the Floods & Famine
As Continents Took New Shapes
& the Food
& LiveStock
were Radically Changed
& Diminished.
For Food Did Not Grow Like It Once Did
& Animals Behaved Differently,
Much Like we Did,
but One Thing Did Do Well,
Rats the Size of Large Dogs.
Hideous Pale Things
That Crawled From Their Holes
In the Night
& Ran Across
the Twisted Landscape
Bringing Death
& Disease.
Imagine If you Will
a Ruined Grave Yard
Where the Remnants of Humanity
& Hide,
Ruled by Cadaverous Rats
Under a Pale Red Light.
That Is my Hell,
How the World Fell.



Filed under Prose

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Hans Leu the Elder

Pay Back

I First Heard of Him

When He Came Before the Ethics Committee.

During the Trial of Edwin Mercer

Head of the Obama Corp,

For Crimes Against Humanity.

For the Genetic Testing & Research

He Had Conducted On Inmates

of Both Mental Health Facilities & Prisons

or Any One Else He Pleased

Like the Murder & Detainment

of Any One Who Got In His Way;

Families, Lawyers, Judges

He Killed Them All.

I Will Never Forget

How That Nondescript Man

Walked Down That Aisle

& Demanded

In a Booming Voice

I Claim the Oldest Law of Them All,

I Claim the Right of An Eye For An Eye,

Just As This Man Murdered So Many

He Shall Die

Not Coddled In a Cage

but Right Now

Like the Dog He Is.

I am

Pay Back

& Then

the Screaming Began

As the Bones Were Broken

From His Toes On Up

Till Just a Gurgling,

Mewing, Mess Was Left

& Then Just a Stain.

I Would Learn Later

He Was a Master of Disguise

As Well As

His Own Bodies Matter,

He Could Absorb Any Force Directed At Him

Then UnLeash It How & When He Chose.

Abilities Given to Him by the Very Corporation

of the Man He Had Just Killed.

He Was Test Subject


 & Now He Was a God

Now you Couldn’t Crack His Skin

or Poison His Wine

Now you Can’t Kill Him

He Just Won’t Die


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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

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.


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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Howard Pyle

Rejection; Depression

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;
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;
& 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;
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;
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


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Filed under Prose

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Vincent van Gogh

Vincent van Gogh

Even Death
a Cigarette
a Job


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