Tag Archives: When

Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

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

https://theprose.com/post/149484/mickey-s-christmas-hit-men

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Spencer Stanhope

Crimson Queen

Satan; Adversary,
Lucifer; Morning Star,
but She was Older much Older.
Older Than the Castrating Cult
of the Great Mother;
Cybele,
She Was the Oldest
& Greatest of Gods,
She Was Eros;
Desire,
the Crimson Queen.
& We,
my Family & I
Have Served Her
Since Man
First Crawled From the Wild.
We Who Have Suckled From Her Tit.
Who Have Known Her
As Pandora
& Again
As Eve.
We Were There
When the Walls of Troy Fell
& Again
When We Pierced the White Gods Side.
We Are the Ones
Said to Wear the Mark;
the Mark of Cain;
the Spear
& to This Day
We Are Still Known
As the Sons of the Dragon.
Yes,
Even He
of the Impaling Fist
Served Her;
Her
Blood Red Bliss.
She Who Came to Us
When the Moon Was Swollen,
Swollen With Sin
& Desire
Desire
Like Fire.
a Fire to Sear your Soul
& Strip your Sanity.
Bacchanalian Rites
of the Blackest Kind,
Orgies
of Mutilation & Murder.
She Would Stroll Through
Some Times Stopping
to Touch a Subjects Head.
As Her Worshippers
Offered Up Their Bloody Sacrifices;
Dripping Mangled Manhood.
Blood Wine
Heaped With Herbs
of the Darkest Sort,
Flesh of the Fallen;
Man,
Beast,
or Child;
Was the Feast We Had.
Screams of Agony & Ecstasy
In the Torch Light,
the Scarlet Flames Illuminating
Hellish Flickering Scenes
of Satanic Night.
She Covered In the Blood of the Devout,
Licking Her Fingers
Bouncing About
All Eyes & Thighs,
Tits & Ass.
Tonight I Was to Receive my Birth Right.
Ouroboros; the Snake Circle,
So Driven by Desire
It Eats Its Own Tail;
to Take the Place of my Father,
I the Oldest Surviving Son In an UnBroken Line
Since Life Began.
I to Sit Upon Her Left Side
& He
to Cross Over
& Serve Her In Her Own Land;
Hand Picked Children
In the Image
of Lillith.
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/147052/crimson-queen

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

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 

https://theprose.com/post/146018/rejection-depression

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Waterhouse

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

https://theprose.com/post/130086/stranger

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Antoine Wiertz

Antoine Wiertz

//—-

Discarded
Dreams
of Immortality
&
Meat
Puppets
that Scream
of Blood
that Flows
like Sand
Reanimated
Man
the Damned
#‎B27321‬


https://inkandironheroicfantasy.wordpress.com/2014/09/12/inkiron-heroic-fantasy-47/


These Are my Thoughts
As I Dine On
Canned Beer
& Beans
& Meat
Better Left
Unexplained.
They Say It Came From Fukushima,
Radioactive Waste
Flooding the Seas.
I Just Know
It’s Real,
Like West’s
Sinful Serum
the Dead
Won’t Stay Down.
Killing Friends,
Lovers,
& Kids
In a Nightmare
That Won’t End;
a Game Played
In Blood,
Bullets,
& Pain.
Head For the Hills,
Fresh Water,
the Mountains,
the Oceans;
Poison,
the Cities
Choked
With a Rictus
Grin.
This I Say
To you,
When the Dead
Walk
the Living
are Damned.
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/116642/n-a

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Paul Stade

Paul Stade

Cold, Maybe So

you are
Alone
Trust
a Broken
Bone
Cold
Maybe So
But
When you
Are There
Sitting In
the Chair
After
They Have
Shaved
you Bare
Who Shall
Take
your Place
Fate
you Are
On
your Own
&
It Is
Written
In Stone
That you
Have
to Deal
With
the Past
you’ve Made
Sit
as Though
On
a Throne
Knowing
In
your Home
Nothing
Was Fake
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/49456/cold-maybe-so

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Evariste Vital Luminais

Evariste Vital Luminais

Captain Bull Shit

I am
a Super
Hero
I Cry
Bull Shit
When Ever
I See
It
If I
Have
Abused
my Powers
Only you
Can
Tell me
How
to Stand
In
a World
of Plastic
Clowns
Is Why
I Was
Endowed


Bull Shit
Is
the Cry
As I
Dot
you
In
the Eye
Bull Shit
Is
the Theme
As I
Beat you
To
your Knees
Bull Shit
Is
the Sound
As I
Put you
In
the Ground
#B27321

Now Remember
Kids
Only you
Can Prevent
Bull Shit

https://theprose.com/post/49076/captain-bull-shit

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Evariste Vital Luminais

Evariste Vital Luminais

Trauma $$$

Trauma
You’ll Think
Trauma
When I
Beat
You Back
Into
your Momma
These Words
Will Be
your Dirge
as I
Sing
you
a Song
of Fist
&

Cuff
Yeah
Let’s
Get Rough
It’s
the Stuff
of Legends
Large
Against Small
Winner
Takes All
the Gall
to Pretend
I Don’t
Belong

#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/46647/trauma

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Jean-Léon Gérôme

Jean-Léon Gérôme

I Think

It

Just Began

When

you Went

to Hold

my Hand

the Plan

With Out

Knowing

the Hierarchy

Of

the Clan

Damn

From

With In

Not

With Out

the Proser

Staff

Have to

Make It

Count

Founded On

Gratitude

&

Chops

Willing to

Get In

the Ring

&

Tackle

Any Thing

That Is

the Song

I Sing

Mainly

to Entertain

me

&

Spark

an Interest

In my

Art

May be

Find a

Friend

Make

my Circle

Better

Than

When

I Start

That Is

What

Is In

my Hollow

Hollow

Heart

#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/36783/untitled

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Ink&Iron Heroic Fantasy

Speculum Virginum

Speculum Virginum

Temptation
Tempted to Eat the Gun
Every Day
That I a Wake
To the Slum
That Is my Life
To End
That Which
Should
Never
Of Begun
A Mistake
That Makes
me Regret
Who I am
Born to Be
Cast a Side
Left to Die
But I Did Not
Nor
the Many Times
I Threw my Life On the Line
to See
If In Side
Was Real or Fake
I Struggled On
Dreaming Of Steel
to End my Twisted Fate
Wait you Say
Before It Is Too Late
Surely It Is Just Testing
a Crucible
to Bake
a Better Man
That Has to Be the Plan
40 Years of Prison & Pain
of Loss & Never a Gain
& Only I to Blame
Puts That Lie to Shame
When the Entertainment Stops
& It’s Just me
& my
Hollow Hollow Heart
a Hole That I Can Not Stop
Nor Look a Way
From
the Empty Spot
That Captivates me
With What I am Not
my Biggest Sin
Thinking
the Singing Pen
Would Save me From my Plate
a Meal Hard to Swill
Full of Bitterness & Hate
Set In Verse
to Be Read
After
They Pull me From the Hearse
the Ink was Thin
Iron For the Win
to Blot a Way the Stain
That Was my Name
From the Book of Eternal Life
This 38 Will Be my Wife
Her Leaden Kiss
Wedded Bliss
& a Sweet Here After
So you Say
What a Play
If Only a Helping Hand Was Offered
#B27321

https://theprose.com/post/36739/temptation

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