Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
badtaste May 6
you break my heart
like an elephant running through a room on ice
just an earthquake exploding with revenge deep inside
don't doubt yourself twice
I have a new endgame
I've seen the outcome at least a million times
it all ends the same except with one
where I finally win with your head in my hand to my side
Minstrel dumbstruck in the mizzle.
All romances yield their September.
Atavistically wistful,
the horizon ate my ancestors.

Seamonkey cities in astrobleme
lived the dream, but now magnolia
twilight of dementia picks us clean
w/ friselis of Auld Langoliers.

Killcrop in wellingtons of raven
shine puts the boot in piled margherita
playing card suits. This ruffian's
God; the leaves have human features.

Neither fall nor the Fall are antigrav.
Autumn flotsam 'n' jetsam flutter
like a showboating judge's gav-
el, yet condemning to a yardfire

all the braeburn-variegated Satans,
russet Lucifers w/ wings of nervures.
Deciduous devils, whose crackling perdition
foretells season of hell sowed for gardeners.

No modestly moulting future tense:
life is a winter of autumnal adolescence.
Abscissions are but the frondescence
of the laurels of autumn w/ a vengeance.
BR Nov 2017
Wind berates the window panes in angry exclamations
And the walls groan with the intermittent vibrations of my father’s steady blows-
With every other heavy step the leaden strokes of his fury, a loaded roque mallet meets the wall, meant for me.
And deep in my body, white terror (boiler heat)
climbs the stairs in syncopated heart beats.

Daddy, can you hear me in there?

But I think he’s gone,
and I’m running.

Long hallways, deep black, and the crack of his weapon send shrill fear in (fire hose) snakes down my back.


I think daddy is gone,
This inhuman place took him.

In the back of my mind,
(You’ve got to keep your love alive),
In the back of my mind,
(I know that you tried.)

There always comes the end of the line, and as I beat daddy to the attic by a step, I know I’ve reached mine.
There is nowhere to go.
There is nowhere to hide.

“If my daddy is in there, he knows that you lied!
You’re just a false face, just a big hungry void,
and you swallow men like him to survive.
If my daddy is in there– ”

And all at once, his countenance changed.
A man hollowed by agonized sorrow, he bled,
(Monsters are real)
“Doc, run away quick-”
(And ghosts are too)
“But remember this-”
(They live inside of us)
“Remember I love you.”
(And sometimes they win.)

And I believe him.
I kiss his blood stained fingers,
And vignettes of sweet memories pass between us, fading with the hue of humanity in his eyes-

And I cannot say goodbye.

The mallet ascends to end him-
A coup de grace, a bleak salvation,
So that I can look upon the mangled maw of the awful stronghold that held him.

“Masks off, then,”
It says.

And I grin.
J Nc Sep 2015
"You're not one of them", he says
"I can tell, I got this GIFT, see?"
The relief clear on his animated face
Too twitchy, too... off
"They watch us, you know?
They got those satellites and ****
They'll read your ID through your pocket
Then they gotcha!"
I nod, only mildly alarmed
And throw down my smoke.
Step on it to make sure it's out
"Only you can prevent forest fires"
A childhood echo
He picks it up
Looks wildly around
"Your DNA is on that! Epithelials!
I seen it! I seen it on that CSI!"
I mumble something
His eyes narrow. He laughs too hard.
"Kidding man, I'm just kidding"
He skitters off, like an ant missing 4 legs
I look up, and nod to the ****** on the roof.

This was inspired by Stephen King's "Paranoid: A Chant", a short story/ poem in I think Skeleton Crew. One of my first two "grownup books", along with "Night Shift". My grandma and grandpa had given me a $10 Waldenbooks gift card, for my 10th birthday. I've now read almost everything he has written. Most of his works I've read multiple times. Blew my tender little mind, and I was free.
He wore a fickle grin
But it seemed there were worms within
Behind those tombstone teeth
He scares me
I dream of him opening that maw
Seeing other world's in the darkness of his cloak
Seeing only gleams where eyes should be
Oh this dark man
That seemed like no man at all*
Empty eyes That nightmare grin
And behind the vale the worms within
Partly inspired by the dark tower
Sydney Ann May 2015
Do it quickly,
God forgive me
Her eyes drifted dreamily
His teeth worked against her neck

Lord of the flies, favor me now
... had already pooled in it, something viscid and alive
I am the resurrection of death
He's undead, Ben
We must go through bitter to taste the sweet

Now your end.
and the blood that pulsed from his chest turned black

Look out!
You killed the master!
I'll be back
They were in the streets, the walking dead
They go crazy on the inside.
Jodie LindaMae Mar 2015
What was it like
Bleeding out into your wedding dress
When the wounds cut too deep to bear?
Fighting back our urges to help,
We instead flocked to the funeral
Where the beer was free
And finger foods flooded our senses,
Immunizing us against your cries.
Sydney Ann Dec 2014
Ye are not alone
Hear me, If ye will,
For I too have become one of the last of my kind
And my world falls apart
Just as thine own
And though we chase not the same Tower,
They are but one

Yes, Charyou Tree, come reap
I too have given up everything for my Tower
And if they knew,
They would demand I renounce my precious tower
But ka like the wind
Carries me forward
And I believe you understand
Why I know
I will draw
My last breath
On the path of the beam
The Dark Tower, written by Stephen King
(Unless you have read, you will never know)

— The End —