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 Jul 2017 lex
C J Baxter
Hunger is a gun to your head.
Can you feel it pressed up against
your temple or is your tummy full?
Do you hear it cocked and ready
Or does your lunch sit happily on
your warm breakfast and cup of tea?  
I think it's high time someone like you
                                    bites the bullet.

You in your fine-tailored, Italian suit.
You in your penthouse apartment,
who leave homes empty here and abroad.
Yes, you.
I know you know someone who knows
someone who grew up in a tenement flat.  
I know you know someone who knows
someone who works with disabled people.
I know you haven't heard any complaints.
But I know you and we have here this gun.
And I know just what we'll do with it
 Jul 2017 lex
mk
-
 Jul 2017 lex
mk
-
everything's breaking
and i'm running
to the only place
i've ever known
to the only place
i've ever called home

i'm running to you-
it's time.
 Jul 2017 lex
Pax
left behind
 Jul 2017 lex
Pax
im used to
being left
behind.
so it doesn't hurt anymore.

6words story.
 Jul 2017 lex
Ron Gavalik
Crinkled
 Jul 2017 lex
Ron Gavalik
A young man with ***** hands
walked into the bar.
He sat next to a blonde
of about the same age
and ordered a beer.
"Don't even try to talk to me,"
she said in an arrogant tone.
The young man didn't speak.
Defeated, he climbed off the stool.
He took a pull from the beer
and then dropped a crinkled fiver.
As he walked out the door,
the girl laughed out loud.
She showed us all
who was boss.
Observation.
 Jul 2017 lex
Hasan Maruf
I…I heard the footstep
I…I wondered what…what was that?
I…I heard an indistinct rumble
I…I hastily desisted and urged me to rest
Until I heard the vicious whisper
Thundering behind my doorstep
Tremulously had I reached the door
Looking through the mirror conduit
I paused, gasped and breathed deep
What I heard was a staccato shriek
Bludgeoning violently against
My chamber door with a ghastly peep
Suddenly the sound dissipated awhile
But the fiendish murmur did beguile
Thrusting my heart into a pacific exile

It was an unearthly maiden from the yore
Causing me to tingle to hear her dark lore
In the night of my lone and lousy submission
I was metamorphosed into a ghost
Dissevering the soul from my dainty robe

I…I felt a flitting shudder then a flirting flutter
In the middle of a tormenting stutter
Before consummation with this maiden
Brewing out from the obscuration of her colour

I felt torrid phosphorescence on my forlorn bed
While, I envisioned specter of unhallowed dream
Forming like fungus inside my foamy stream
Overpowering the sputter of my night scheme

I...I thought for a while, the montage
Of these dreams must be from the arch evil
But soon the slumber began to feast
On my turbulent bliss, I reveled
At the very opportunity of unwinding
The gospel of her love forsaken Lenore
Laden with the riddle of her dark lore!

I…I lingered a little before lending my ear
To the haunted mysteries of the maiden’s air
I betook my bedraggled knife
Waited for what comes within my purview
Before engaging myself in a valorous view

Meanwhile, in my chamber of cadaverous blue
I noted a rotting odors passing by
In the hallway through my door
Suddenly, it was lit with translucent light
While, the horror tossed me into a grim plight
On the floor, I discovered a casket of a corpse
Irritably birthing the wild bubble of iced trill
It felt like a purring puff then it was all still

I decided to eavesdrop the rasping whimper
Gushing out from its muted shrill
I…I betook my bedraggled knife
More so to scan the harmony of his strife
Enough, enough I deplored wearily with delight
To get to open the portal of his hidden life

I ... I betook my bedraggled knife
I plowed it through his skin
Cautiously, I devised my amputation
With various degrees of incision
From its protoplasm up to chin
But, I could find nothing but meats
Muttering unrequited love
Lisping ominous yearning of his
To be reconciled and resigned with
Demoniacal feat of maiden’s heartbeat

I…I betook my bedraggled knife
Looking into my works, I could
Not thwart a languorous temptation
As the soft, serene and slow cadences
Of the maiden stirred me to waive
Into the vault of unmarked grave

She gave me my disheveled knife
An incandescent beauty I saw therein
Eyes open, shining like the moon
I decided to use my entire prowess within
Speculating my life to be ended soon

The maiden carried me along down the hallway
With the other corpses I am to dwell in all gay
In her livid *****, in her phantom palace of gray
I heard the chuckling corpse open his tongue
Singing all those songs which never were sung
I managed to utter my name with a rusted voice
Intimating that I won’t be alone and forever rejoice

The turbid night ended with a dusky dawn
Being bemused, my blood bedewed knife
Regaled at the sight of this phenomenon
[A horror poem]
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