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Dann Scot Sep 9
My terror grows with each passing night,
As slow, steady darkness steals away sight.
Footsteps and whispers add to my fright —
Is there an end to such desperate plight?
How long, too long, till dawn’s early light!
I clutch my candle in trembling hand,
And watch the shadows dance to understand
What I envision as its light expands
Through the room and down the hall’s span.
There lingers a vision, diaphanous and pale,
Shifting and shuddering, as though it were frail,
Whispering softly a most horrible wail.
Eyes no more than twin black abysses,
The vision approaches to beg final kisses.
Heavy, so heavy, my heart thuds in my chest.
From hall to room the visitant creeps,
Upon my mortal form it silently seeps.
Gliding in silence, not walking — not quite —
Closer it comes with its sulfurous blight.
My eyes are held tight — can’t even blink right.
Lips part, jaw drops, revealing a black maw;
The specter extends one moon-gray claw,
Caressing my cheek with a grave-cold paw.
My throat constricts — no breath do I draw.
It locks my eyes with hell’s black gaze,
Until moonlight strikes in golden rays.
The phantasm shudders and starts to blaze,
Struggles again its arm to raise —
But from the light it reels in malaise.
And heavy, so heavy, my heart thuds in my chest.
The hallucination retreats, as though pressed,
Back to the doorway — its intent suppressed —
Shrinking into the dark hall, a lost contest,
Driven by a moonbeam so blessed,
Whose gentle light coursed to my relief
And unmasked the fear beneath belief —
The frightful soul-stealing thief
That stalked and grieved me, if only brief.
Now I breathe, and calm my soul:
“Twas nothing but a myth… a troll.”
Then thunder pealed a mighty toll.
Wind brought rain and a thundercloud —
Again that wail, this time loud.
Oh heavy, so heavy, my heart… no more…
neth jones Sep 10
.
night streets and scars of light
                      scarves of light
moving subtle bustles  of shadowed light
carvings of royal light    robes of velvet light
                        make out expressionist doorways
strobes of light   fink and fit in protest        
coding behind enemy lines
captured light  fires colourful snakes about
in flaring curved science tubes                      

flagging the bartering night   flogging the
                                                  urban night
we've made apparition in honour of daylight
and out of the theatre fear        
               of our own bogged nature
  synthetic ghosts of light                   
              charge away ghosts
electronic noises   scare away
the horrifying lull of the dead                      
                (a dead we don't believe in)
         
twenty four seven behaviour
   to busy away the very spirits we have hungered
and to plot against
    all that unnecessary sleep business
sept2025
battering to make our signs/symbols importance purpose mark
EARLIER VERSION : night streets and scars of light/scarves of light/moving/bustles of shadow light/carvings of light/captured light firing snakes in tubes/battering our colours and signs/flagging the night/lights alive again in the city night/we've made ghosts in honour of daylight/and out/of the theatre fear of our own nature/ghosts to chase away ghosts/noises to scare away the dead/even though we longer believe in the dead/twenty four seven activity/to busy away the spirits we’ve angered/and plot against/all that unnecessary sleep business
Andy Chunn Sep 4
A silent scream cannot be seen
Nor captured within our hearing
It lies inert somewhere between
Our normalcy and our fearing

A silent scream is colored green
When envious matters may strike
And one so preen becomes so mean
With quiet rage and hate alike
Laokos Sep 3
Ecstatic in the sea breeze,
a magnanimous moment of
interloper pride ******* the day.
Uncoil—my heart, my chin,
my unglamorous abstinence
enforced by fear.
This is no lapse, but fury
and fortitude forging me
in the crucible of love.
Yet again I am up against it—
the stage of floating eyes and
overcooked feelings pawing
at my attention like
squids in a pool.
Ink and jelly in a room temperature soup
swirling and sloshing under
the authority of a rented room.
By gods, this time I’ll make it work—
plant leaves and blunderbusses
leaning against teal paint,
the sun really is on a fishhook.
Stand apart from me then and
judge the waters for what they are—
a storm too small to surface
in a sky too big to swallow.
I’m sweating in it
and the alarm clock is going off.
bleet
   bleet
      bleet

Too deep to turn back.
Too tired to go on.
This is where the end begins,
in the middle of it
with no ground at all.
Kalliope Sep 3
One day
Some day
Probably soon
I'll be nothing
Dust on the moon

Never could be solid
Never could be whole
Never found a way
To fit into the mold

Bleeding through the pages
Crossing all the lines
Aching in my soul
Pretending I'm just fine

This ache is such a feeling
A hard one to forget
I've never been without it
Yet I never do regret

Some souls can do wonders
And others are so wise
Some of us are filler
Background till our bland demise

Not quite meant for great things
Just put out here to live
I wanted to be special
My expectations I must forgive

I can't live up to her
Never will live up to him
Living up to myself?
A barren truth discovered on a whim

So hush now, do be quiet
It's so loud in my mind
I'm so sick of noise
Leaving thoughts of grandeur behind

Staring at a wall
No time to even blink
Living a life mentally
Reality making me sink

Such a twisted sickness
Being great in your head
Wasting all your hours
Decaying in your bed

Feet that once danced so
Unashamed through city lights
Lips made for conversations
Slowly stitched shut for the last time

A heart made for adventure
A soul yearning for great love
Bones that take you nowhere
And fears of all the above

Whispering so loudly
Yet speaking so **** low
"She never did make sense,
Never knew quite where to go"

A recipe for disaster
Chaos by her hand made
Falling slowly then faster
Replacing parachutes with grenades

"You made your bed now sleep in it"
Is what they like to say
But I never made my bed
Yet here I am destined to lay

So tomorrow I will fix it
A new lovely day for change
A promise never kept though
Being true to myself is strange

You'd think it would be freeing
To live right here, right now
But possibilities are endless
I'm overwhelmed- I must lie down

But now please don’t do that
My nervous system shouts at me
You'll never overcome fear
Hiding from the world in sheets
The push and pull of anxious mind
B C Steffan Sep 1
I’ve never met
Someone like you
You’re just so…

“In control of my emotions”

No
Scared of them
A conversation with a friend.
I was sitting by a pond
gazing into the water
when I heard uncertain footsteps
Fear tentatively sat down beside me
" what are you doing in college?
it's so far away.
you need to be at home with your parents.
it's familiar and comfortable."
he says to me
"sometimes being comfortable means you
stop growing and experiencing things."
I replied
"but aren't you scared?
you should be."
"of course I'm scared.
but fear is part of life and you get to choose
whether you're going to let it
limit you."
Fear nods his head
finally understanding
he gets up and walks away
I bask in the cool breeze
and soak in the sun
breathing in the crisp air
as my heart rate slows
and peace settles over me
George Krokos Aug 31
I don’t think it’s such a good idea
to prey upon other people’s fear.
It may scare them out of their wits
and come back to haunt us in fits.
____
From 'The Quatrains' ongoing writings since the early 90's
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