Chasing Midnight ~ I’ve Fallen

Running down.
Rays turn down.
Going down.

Ultraviolet heat.
Violent heat.
Burning heat.

Fangs rip.
Soul rip.
Life ripped away.

One thousand fears.
No fear.
I’ve fallen dear.

Chasing Midnight ~ Red Carpet

Seeing red streaks.
Bring out length.

White carpet turns red.
Bang to the head.

Sledge hammer screams.
No more red velvet glove.

Broken by erotic feeling.
Spun to another.

Pull the shades.
Red shade spread.

Feed the disease.
Relax…

See the divine.
Life/No Life.

Dance of life.
Embryo made.

Death of two.
Is the best one.

Dark Poetry ~ The Valley of Death Shadows

I walk in the valley of Death Shadows.
I feel her presence in the air.
I smell the corpses (those she has taken the days before).
I walk with her as a friend.
I see her for what she is.

Not evil.
Not bad.

Only as one who transforms.

That which she does,
has been firmly established

Bringer of change,
none shall defeat her.

Not one passes her unwavering eye.
A valley we all must pass through.

The rich.
The poor.

All colors.
All social class.
All… everything.

Everywhere.

She sees no boundaries.
She feels no guilt.

Grim she is not!
Only reaping what she must!

A job is a job after all.

Why not make a livelihood,
out of the dead?

She rips us all to this valley,
where we walk,
when we walk.

The hills we climb must come to an end.
A valley’s final curtain.

Rewards many and none.

Our journey has ended,
but, grim reaping goes on.

It is never done………

No one but grim can forever walk,
the valley of death shadows…

Dark Poetry ~ The Everlasting Purgatory of a Soul’s Gentle Tune

I now feel the clay beneath my fingers;
looking around at the gazing strangers.

I cry my tears.
Splashing down.
Rippling waters.

Creating mirrors from my mind.
Her face in time.

Clawing dirt.
I want her again.

In aquatic world frail body lost its oxygen.
Still, I found no release.
Now, my delicate love has joined the deceased.

She left that warm summer’s night.
Not a fear nor a care.
She… encompassed with joy and delight.

If only for a moment.
A glimmer in time…

Now you know the story;
tell no one my crime.

Dark Poetry ~ September 1939

Lightning strikes silently in the night.
Burned earth still sparking…
Terminals of my mind…
Re-ignited; ignited with spirit of renewal.
Thought dead long ago.
A plug had been pulled.
A circuit had broken.
By the flip of the switch the diodes spark…
(I am alive again!)

Soon comes the hum of an old TV… or maybe radio…

Turn crackling volume up.
Electricity surges!
Compression bulbs pop.
Coming too life again, too many years of silence…
Old tunes playing in rewired head.
Volume rises again!
Again, I feel the electricity in my veins.
These electron skirmish in my arteries.
Making mind feel alive again, a mind not of the tempered sane.

Hearing voices muted in unison.
Watching as minutes and hours pass.
Wavering, tingling… hearing the electricity in the air.

Feeling a tingle in wooden skin…
Feeling power flow, once again pouring in.
Please, take care not to trip over my cord.
This is an electric bill I can absolutely not afford.
So don’t say a word, you may lose your breath.
One can’t electrocute me, it is my blood.
See the twinkle in my eyes?
Forgive me, forget me… live in a flash, burn out in a moment.
Electronic, Electric… plug me in… spirit in a flash is surely no sin.

Dark Poem ~ Do Me Harm

My head.

My hands.

My eyes.

My arms.

All trying to do me harm!

My taste.

My smell.

My touch.

My sight.

All saying I should die this night.

My lust.

My greed.

My sloth.

My vanity.

All making sure I will bleed!

My heart.

My mind.

My being.

My insanity.

All bringing blades to my soul this night.

Dark Poetry ~ Pet Farm

A golden farce started with,
a thrust and a grunt.

Feeling hymen burst…

Intrusion of mind burn blister skin.
Things cool. Start to shiver.

Worry sets in…

Ask yourself, did you gave it?
to an angel, a demon, or the Devil?

Did passion drain from your soul?
Was it ignited with the force?

Lust unabashed within mind soul tonight.

End of beginning begins with thrust of flesh…

Now, there’s only the future left for you.
Find yourself hidden in passages of caress.

Expedient lustful undress.

Build the destruction of your auto-pilot.
Trained by society’s withered quarrels…

Change brings heights of new things to come…
Feeling fears change.

Thankfulness of wind thrown ashes,
of the robot you used to be.

Rising up of the forces,
that tried to pull you back,
from the beckoning unknown…

Seething carcases once beautiful.

Care forgotten as rust sets in.

Following in droll mundane existence.

Society’s robots,
the unlubricated pet farm.

Please, keep well oiled,
don’t become the rusted cog.

It is time to care about every step,
or don’t care at all.

Forget middle ground and…

Enjoy. Every. Moment.

Dark Poetry ~ Innocence

Supple skin on tear stained sheets,
where innocence now lies beneath…

Blood fallen below,
heart still hammering.

Chastity gone.
Pale skin turned pink.

Flushed face,
where new knowledge seeps.

A fracture in time.
Innocence gone but not forgotten.

Eyes not soon spent,
time came and intruder went.

Breath was meek,
hands do hold her until one weeps.

Ghostly memories times anguish released.

Be still the bastion,
as one learns peace.

Dark Poetry ~ Private Matters

Basking in guilty pleasures.
Mind flourishes with indulgence.
Sexual not sexual.

Flutters across mind’s eye.

A brush meeting canvas.
Painting pictures of unrealities.

Forbidden dreams.
Do you call them guilty pleasures?

A bar of chocolate.
Another adultery?
All the same.

Murderous act: retribution or abomination?

Lucifer in a sky with demons?

How can I see emeralds?
How do I see rubies?
How to break free of these diamonds?

I look to guilty pleasures.
I look to simple pleasures.
I look to innocent pleasures.

None suit my purpose;
break free from moral conquest.

Show gifts to yourself,
still they never do.

Why?

Because, they never embrace,

Themselves…

Dark places,
guilty places,
obscured by lies.

Afraid…

Better to show common face to
the adoring public;
self-loathing is a private matter.