Amongst us they walk
Mostly unseen
Once in a while you may hear them talk
Once in a while they appear in front of you; as if in a dream

These are not friends
They are not colleagues
Their life on earth came to an end
They are walking towards you one thing on their mind; to bring you into their fold and within the depths of their league

They appear ghostly but not just a two dimensional figure
They have clothes, hair and skin
Their skin has patches missing and is covered in fissures
They walk stiffly as rigor mortis has set in

By day they reside in their graves in the ground
As midnight strikes you will find them walking around
Arms held out in front as they walk towards you
Don't lose sight of them as you back away; keep your eyes glued, keep danger at bay

In a dream like state they continue to roam
Rampaging streets and destroying homes
Dont give them food or water
Lock up your sons and daughters

When the sun begins to rise
and the light hits their eyes
They will return to their graves below ground
Another day over they will remain in prose; until the dark descends and once again they rise as an army to fight their foes

Amongst us they walk
Mostly unseen
Once in a while you may hear them talk
Once in a while they appear in front of you; as if in a dream

Around and around the walking dead jog
Like a day of zombie ground hog

Dear music,
Thanks  for   always
clearing   my   head,
healing   my   heart,
and lifting my spirits.

It's  not  the  song  that
makes  you  emotional...
it'­s the people and things
that come to mind when
you hear it.

All it  takes is 1 song  to
      bring back 1000
                       memories.

One song ---
the lyrics, the melody, the mood ---
can take you back
to a moment in time
like nothing else can.

Each memory has a
soundtrack of it's own.

Music is life. That's why
our hearts have beats.

Never underestimate the healing power of listening to your favorite music on full blast while dancing around the house like an idiot.
                                                          ­                                  Jon York   2019

Vampires gathered in a Brood
One large group, up to no good
The most bad *** kids in the neighbourhood

The Vamps wear their, hair faces and clothes the same
White pallid faces, all colour drained
Against dark tailored suits of silky cloth
Their hair dark and long, the look they favoured was one of a Goth

The brood smoked cigarettes without a care
And the total look was one of flare
Blue Suede shoes upon their feet, with the Devil inside them made the look complete

When the clock struck midnight, they would all gather
Drinking, singing, shouting, it did not matter
Together they were going to Hell down below
To where the Devil would sell them some poor persons soul

They would hand over the price they had to pay
30 silver dollars would save the day
Then off to their lair, they would track
With the poor person they had bought, upon their backs

First, they would play a little game
Teasing the poor person with a burning flame
The Vamps, they had no shame
And did not need to know the poor person’s name

Next, they would eat a rather large meal
Whilst the person remained tied and at their heels
Knowing that soon their fate would be revealed

Lastly, they would stand the poor person upright
Bind their hands to a post, ensure they were bound tight
Then each of the Vampires would take their turn
To drink the blood from the poor person and feel the burn

As the blood poured down the back of their throats
Their eyes would roll, and they began to float
Such a pleasant lovely high feeling
They didn’t notice the poor persons soul leaving

This time the Vampires had won their game
No stakes, crosses or garlic to slay them and bring their families shame
They continued to feed on the warm blood
Until the sun began to rise, and the light began to flood

Now it was time for bed, the Vampires all retreated
To their coffins in the basement where they would lie
For now, they remain without worries and undefeated

They would use the time to regenerate, regroup
Tomorrow would bring the same
They would group together in a brood and follow the flame