The self is the spring of all things—
Of all emotions and feelings,
Of all wonders and dreaming;
Of all horrors and betrayals,
Of all evil and deceptive portrayals.

good and bad both

With more dreams than dreamers;
Too many hopes that could not be,
Too many ways the evil schemers
Could erase the future we might see.
There were millions stealing hope
From all the people everywhere.
There were even more of the people
Who sat silently and did not care.

That is the way the holocaust came
Not from starving people without hope.
The people were the richest ever
Not a multitude on a slippery slope.
We all had our toys and pleasures;
Some less and the chosen had more.
Technologically we were moving
Into a future we could explore.

There was no reason for us to fail,
To turn on each other screaming hate.
We almost had a perfect nation.
We cry and hope it is not too late.
We had begun to fix the problems
And corporations became afraid.
They would lose control of us all
And all the progress we had made.

So, they bought a gang of thugs,
Paid them well to win their seats.
They knew they could change the laws.
The rest of us would know defeat,
Because they counted on the lazy
And the uninformed to buy their lies.
That’s the way the ending happens.
The greedy murder off the wise.

The evil leaders speak in circles
And say the bad things are good.
The good things are disparaged
They would jail us if they could.
The cloak it all in Bible guises
Claiming they are fixing things.
Some of us can see the truth here;
They try to make a throne for a king.


On the barren northern moors lies a dark lonely tower. No one ever goes there, not a bird sings or a rabbit jumps. This is the place of loneliness and of despair and foreboding.

The sky is a leaden grey and the wind howls around the tower. Long lost souls cry for release. Some may be your friends of long ago or some long lost lovers of times gone by. This is a night time place of the lonely day.

A traveller comes along, over these barren cold hills. He sees the tower over the horizon distant, far and on its own. In a minute he is there standing before this stone monolith.

Slowly he enters the dark tower. The stairs are steep and the walls cold. Coming to the top he sees the souls, they are of everyone we knows. Just his presence there will set them free.

Violet light hits the tower, the sky turns blue and the souls are free. The traveller meets his long lost love dead for a thousand years. Now Lancelot and Guinevere are together again.


There's distant scratching like strings on a loose violin and rain shattering against the hood of a shambling man passing me from a place I've never been.

This night seems to bring a comfortable chaos like the sound of a dying drum inside a weaning rib cage with the wind that screams through trees mimicking a wheezing child's vocal range.

Each step forward is a chant from an old god and each drop of blood is a sip from the paradigm, voices scream and hiss from the nearby fog while I climb down a mountain I've never climbed.

Bones snap and buckel while fingers curl and twist, blistering skin flaps that insects suckle and searing eyes that unfurl and wince.

There are things worse than nightmares, like an orchestra without strings or a breath without voice. Something simple to grasp but impossible to understand if you live without choice.

oni Jan 11

read at
seen at
not delivered
heart attack

user blocked
call dropped
heart stopped

Adam Robinson Jan 11

A Male fatale,
Eyes of golden green.
Hair like a Doré angel.
And muscles so mean.
Subverting the life of another.
Pale or frozen.
Glass blown and sharp.
Angels of heaven dancing on his skin,
A King of Clubs and diamond studded desire,
Keeping me in line.
Leather, shades, and wings outstretched,
A Poet joker.
A dancing demon.
Shush sweet Vampyre.
You devour the love out of me -
Paradise might overhear.
You to me are everything I dreamed -
Jealousy will ensue.
I wish I was your only,
As you are to another,
And another and another.
So help me please.
There's no blessed plot for me now.

Get Out Of My Head
Robert Jan 10

I'm easily scared
I hope you don't like horrors

In this darkened hour, a chill will kill a flower.
The clock stands still in freight, when  your standing in the darkest night.
Patiently waiting to make his move, the poisonous snake takes his bite.
Hungary shadows begin to lurk amongst its prey,
Until the fear has driven you to fray.

Isaac Ward Jan 5

Oh child,
The void knows you by name,
And it calls to you,
The end won't hurt at all,

Oh child,
We all sleep alone after all,
Nothing and no-one,
Will trouble you dear,

Oh child,
Don't pray for your mother,
Or father or brother,
It'll be dust in the wind.

Oh child,
It'll be okay,
Another will great the day,
And take your place in the play.

Melodie Fowles Sep 2017

The tip of the blade as it touches my skin
Is the ecstasy of pain, now let the pleasure begin

I crave the dance of emotion as contact is made
The depraved breath in, as my skin you degrade

Don't stop now, the sensation is real
Give me pain for my pleasure
Till it's rapture I feel

Stroke my irritation till the blood gently flows
Wrap yourself around me, does my desire now show

Slide along my skin, now it's slick with my blood
Your crimson body now like my lifes new drug

Is this what you wanted, has your soul been freed
Because if you make me want, you better feed my need.

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