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Evil Science Poems | Evil Poems About Science

These Evil Science poems are examples of Evil poems about Science. These are the best examples of Evil Science poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |


In the name of blood, for it is the source of life itself,
Plasma's crimson essence of liquid infusion, to the undead's
Pulsating heart.
Intravenously feeding cravings passion, through the carotid
Artery at the throat of humanity, thou'st not love, suffer
The pleasure indulge the pain, the out come shall be the same,
To be embraced by the black ebony arch angel of death,
Release thy darker side, let the instinctual behavior of the beast,
Know freedoms unshackling at last.
Become one of his sacred disciples, a creature of his dark dimension,
A kindred being, unto the legion of the night.
In the moon's elliptical light, shadows thus move from 
Left to right, shifting as transparent figures, phantoms of
Illusions, taking winged flight, soaring on the currents
Of air mingling with their ancestral brethren, the vampire bat.
Run does not the lone wolf, along the side path next to man,
As we do so walk amongst them, yet never attempting to belong.
Oh are we not the a shunned, the accursed, by a God known
For his forgiveness, to love all living things under
Heaven, but for us this mightiest of lords, turns
His gaze away, not acknowledging our existence.
Our we not his lost sheep, missing from his flock, why
Does not this Sheppard seek this black lamb’s wool,
Is it too coarse for weaving's wheel, as it spins thus
And is it not said that he created all life within his image.
Nay I pray this vamperic prayer, why has he abandon
Us, the darker of his creations.
Behold the unascended, begging to enter beyond the gates
Of light, children of the lost are we, seeking a father blind
To his responsibility.
Harvesting, by the basic instincts given unto us,
Taking only what we need to survive, for this he has turned
Against us, and thus taking the light of day with him.
So my father of damnation's hell, has offered salvation's
Darker domain as a sheltering harbor of comfort, I will not
Abstain his patronage.
For I am the ashunned, living by the moonlight's haunting glow,
Yet yearning to see one last horizons sunset, but the Holy Father,
Hears not my humble vamperic prayer.


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |


Wrought liquid metal, hued in the fire's of hell,
Pored into a castings shell, then hammered well,
By the angry fists of Satan himself, behold the skeleton key.
Accursed by evil's malevolent spell, one size fits all,
No locked doors can resist against its turnings twist,
Opening unto the supernatural's mystical power, and unlocking
Humanity's hidden passages and darkest corridors,
Leaving no secrets left unspoken or in silence.
Crimson blood spewing forth from corrupted key holes, oozing
Downwards unto the floor below, staining ancient
Tapestries of the royal gentries, and the upper classes refined.
Skull to the cross bones, it possesses a will of its own, 
A vile living entity, with its own consciousness.
Molding, reshaping itself at pleasures dark whim, 
Feasting on hatred's malice, then releasing it unto the world
Of men.
A twisted wanton thing, laughing with intentions cruelties,
And relishing in our agonies pain.
But Homo sapiens are a curious species, never realizing when to
Leave things well enough a lone.
We must know what lies beyond that forbidden
Door, where mankind is not allowed to trespass.
In these dark places of shadows ethereal, it rocks in a fetal 
Ball, a creature, waiting to be disturbed, go then seek what lurks therein,
If you dare, only the key knows what it really is, and it laughs,
At our ignorance, mocking us in the darkness.
Four it is the beast, chained and shackled within our worst
Nightmares, a fierce devilish demon, that pierces through the
Darkest of night, to hunt the innocent souls of wayward men.
You've have ventured to far, beyond thy safety zone of no return.
Four death lies in those reddened eyes that watch you within 
The darkness.
If you move it will attack, motions movements attracts
Attentions reactions, so remain frozen there is no safety's retreat
Thou'art trapped, again the key so laughs in the abyss,
Mocking at humanity's ignorance.
Shaking with anticipations glee, it begs the next
User to place it into the key hole, of the unknown, come along 
Now what can it hurt, just one little peek, let’s look beyond the crimson
Door, as the skeleton key heckles with unbridled happiness.


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Clerihew |

Modern Prometheus

To Victor Frankenstein, let's give a nod
Who was most infamous for playing God.
What he reanimated deranged his head
And left many that he loved all dead.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |


It is the magic held within the darkness, the whispering of the night winds,
Echoing through haunted graveyards, cast are thus ancient spells, illuminated
Beneath the harvest full moon, in this eerie landscape the underworld is 
Released, and the undead are free to walk amongst the living, mingling on
This sacred holiday of mysticism, and it is so called, Halloween.
In the ethereal shadows figures move with shades dark eloquence,
As ghostly phantoms enchant the souls of the innocent, passions
Pleasures soothes the hearts of sadness, for tonight the very air itself
Is magical, offering a moments release for the spiritually condemned,
Until the last stroking bong of midnight, is heard off in the distance.
Sorcery's wicked witchy women, fly by sources unseen power of the
Supernatural, cackling with laughter's wild sounding of the jackal, do
They weave their intricate incantation's, to capture their victim's of hearts desire.
Blooming on the mountain side, the wolf bain does blossom, and hidden
Beneath its evergreen leaves, is the star gazer dressed within wolves
Furry garments, howling love sick, unto his ill fated mate, she so answers
With screams reply, and the pack adds another member, and now
These forbidden lovers run together, beside the path of humanities kindred.
Mischievous tricksters are they; poltergeists playing trick or treats pranks,
Vaporous creatures whom thoroughly enjoy frightening humanity unto 
Their inner most core.
But heed my warning dear friend; call no priest, for blessing sake for
These demons of mists, shall reek, havocs vengeance upon thee, 
Instead leave them well enough alone.
A twisted fellow is Mr. Jack-O-Lateran, appearing body less, with his head
Impaled upon fencing’s spike, what a Gringrichy grimace does he so make,
As a candles light aglow shines from within, his mounted handled top hat,
Exposing the freakish smile on his orange pumpkin face.
The vamperic ring master, on this night of horrors terror, welcomes the unwary
Traveler, to take part in this celebration extravaganza, come one and come all.
Let us so partake in these evenings’ festivities, El Carnival, 
As the children of the night, serenade mankind in the back ground,
Beyond our earthy realm.
As the mornings first rays of light, brush their finger tips across the
Horizon's canvas, the darkness is banished once again, creeping 
Beneath the under belly of the sun, as all evil creatures melt, and fading
Within the shades hollows, until next years celebration takes place once
More, on this darkest of holidays, called Halloween.


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic monologue |

Tell The Monster

Tell the monster
Tell the monster, you little coward

That it mustn’t murder
To show it eternally wretches and writhes
To show your inner maggots that crave malcontent

It mustn’t murder 
To bring down all with its own misery
To give the world a taste of what they have inflicted
On such a poor, abandoned soul

Oh, deprived prey!
You were born for this man’s selfish strategy
Toward power and impertinence,
To desecrate the human body in the name of science
For one wretched worm’s pursuit of renown

Oh, murderer, you have done your damage long ago 
The moment your pride turned to the innocent dead
To rob their shells in search of gold


Tell the monster the truth
That it murders to ravish your failures
To make your innards whimper and quiver
To sustain the guilt that has long eaten you
Since the creation of your surfaced flaw

Yes, in your arrogant aims, the murder of millions commence 

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


Is it simply just a wooden music box?
Charming the human soul, with its melodic undertone,
What a hypnotic melody it so plays, enticing the listener
With its delicate waltz' sweetly strumming, exposing it's
Mystical quality of the supernatural
By its spiritual essence attractant, I'm thus so memorized,
A ballerina dancing in step, with the spell cast upon me,
Thus do so I spin, on this stationary pedestal, unable to move
On my own volitional power of chose and free will, 
I've be consumed utterly,
By the haunting tune, compelling me do its evil bidding.
The notes grow slower, unwinding until perfectly still,
But I'm not in a daydreams nightmare, I suddenly realize 
This absurdity is reality, has become real.
I'm that tiny figure within a child's musical box,
Frozen in stances freeze, unable to cry
Out for help, for made of wax am I now.
Then the lid is gently shut upon me, and in the
Darkness a sadistic voice, heckles and mocks
Me, speaking in musical notes it sings a deadly
Lullaby, rest eternal my beauty for you belong
To me now.
I've become a play thing to be tormented,
Languishing within this jewelry box.
Caught in this land of giants, whom wind
These musical chimes, to join me as a 
Prisoner's collection, of a thief called music.
Whom orchestrates this symphony of the demonic?
I dare not ask, for the voices anger would
Ravish what little is left of my humanity,
So I smile, and I dance at its pleasures
Whim, but within my soul a flickering
Ray does burn still, and it is called hope.
The music screams in terror's disbelief,
For the giants house has caught in flames,
And now he is the prisoner captured
Within a wooden tinder box.
I do so smile as I myself melt away,
Listening to the voice begging for help,
But no one comes to aid such evil as he.
But I am free at last, and except death
As a comforting friend's reprieve,
From the beast, is it just a simple?
Wooden music box.


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

The Future Starts Here

The innocence is transfusing
and overturning 
the goat skin drums
children of the mills,
children of the junkyard,
and savaging
and we keep filling them with
mercury, nitrate, espestice, baby bombs
blasted out of their shaved heads
and foraging

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Sense and Science

There's power abounds within our worlds,
that science will deny.
Just silly folks with twisted minds
who rant and rage and lie!
If they can't see, or touch or smell,
they know it isn't there.
Until the day, to their dismay
it's forced on them to share!

Now television, planes and phones,
it's very true to say.
Would surely have been witchcraft
in a not so distant day.
But seeing TV, seeing ghosts,
convinces you they're there.
Or does it... do you choose the things
you let your senses share?
You can't see evil's presence
when it's aimed to do you harm.
You think it rather silly
to return it with a charm?
So live in total arrogance
and die because your ill.
No doctors precious potions
will cure evil with a pill!

Believe in what you care to,
and say I’m off my mind.
But there's many times I thwarted
things of supernatural kind.
I will use the things I need to,
be they physical or 'crap',
But if your directing evil
then I'm going to send it back.

Take a warning from my ramblings,
there's more than meets the eye.
It's not the ground you stand on,
or the covering of the sky.
There's things that some call heaven,
and things that some call hell.
That combine to make our lifetimes
and we all live in their spell.

So if you ever feel a prickle
from the hairs upon your neck.
You will know that evils found you,
    ......so you'd better run like heck!

Ivor G Davies

Copyright © Ivor Davies | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


Entombed behind isolation's walled prison, a haunting 
Malice has so trapped me within, evils chamber of the forsaken.
It crouches beneath shadows shroud, its leering eyes pierce,
Through the darkness’s pitch black covenant of the night.
A pacing beast, anticipating my movements, mocking my
Feeble attempts to evade this frenzy's tormentor of darkness.
Deceptions deceiver, silver tongued weaver, spewing lies
Deceit, intricately aligning its widow makers webbing,
Feasting on innocence betrayal.
Heckling laughter echoes against dead reckoning, a chilling
Appetizer is my soul of innocence, as if pleased at malice's intent,
Fiendishly, delighting in torturing its human pet.
A vacant numbing feeling over comes reasoning,
A deeper anger begins to rage, rebelling against hatred's 
Horrifying entity.
Motivated to survive beyond my spectral captivity, 
Hear me disgusting creature, I shall destroy thee,
Leave me alone screaming aloud, sanity's domain gives way.
In musty halls empty hollows, an odorous stench fills mine senses,
It speaks unto me, cease mortal miscreant, none leave here alive.
A deepening realization rushes against the conscious mind,
I'm deaths play thing, to be pounced upon, a toy mouse, captured
Between claws, extracting, retracting at whims invoking.
Invisible hands grasp, choking life's breath away from me,
Feeling every heartbeat slowing, quietly ceasing.
A stinging pain rings within my ears; death has claimed me at last.
Oblivion's muted dead, never part shall we, my lips are so tightly closed,
I can't scream with horror's terror anymore.
Let mercy's fallen be forgiven, released from beyond hells hidden
Regions a place devoid of spiritual salvation, foul demonic spirit
Haunting madman's kingdom, it whispers to me in sweet melodies
Aftershock, now we begin!
 You truly belong to me, with satisfactions grimace, the creature smiles
At my deadened corpse, with satisfactions pleasure, the jackal reveals
Itself unto me, the demon himself, called the devil, thus stands before me,
And now I know the shattering truth, I am the forsaken.

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sestina |

Dark Woods C F H

I have this story of the garden of evil I saw.
Darkness called to me, I was drawn inwardly.
Walking, a glimpse of beauty came into view.
She intrigued me as to why she was inside.
When I stepped in front of her she smiled.
Not an ordinary smile, one of pure wickedness.

She spoke to me calmly at first, as my eyes did view.
Transformation began as her beauty faded inwardly.
I swear to you that I felt like darkness had smiled.
Her shape changed and now a devil my eyes saw.
Beckoning me she said come with me inside.
My soul captured my mind knew now wickedness.

She told me that I was hers now as the demon smiled.
That I had to take my place beside her in wickedness,
Which the garden of evil was now placed inside.
That the evil call had embedded my heart inwardly.
As she took me aside to a mirror where I could view,
What happened to me, undeniable is what I saw.

I was changing outwardly, as well as inwardly.
My eyes were blood red and horns came into view.
I had become her male counterpart, we both smiled.
Within a couple of moments, I was lost in wickedness.
Then out of darkness other creatures came from inside.
More and more demonic creatures are what I saw.

She said, Meet our armies that mankind cast inside.
That she had waited for me, again her lips smiled.
Upon wave of her hand a mist came into view.
It was me in previous form, yes, you were evil inwardly.
Your whole mortal life you felt you had no wickedness.
Suddenly I knew she was right, this was a prediction I saw.

My destiny was sealed; garden of evil will keep me inside.
A consort I will be to her evil heart, fulfilling wickedness.
Thinking back in my dreams I could have changed what I saw.
Though forever and beyond, darkness grows inwardly.
As we held each other, a vision cast came into view.
We looked deep into each other’s eyes and we smiled.

What we both saw, within her womb something was inside.
We knew we shared wickedness, as the birth came into view.
Love, lust held inwardly, looking on, our baby demon just smiled.

Note. This was part of a dream I had and I feel it was a release to write this to help me fight my personal demons that have always plagued my mind and dreams, maybe I watched to many horror movies when I was younger, I have seen almost all of them more than once

Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |

Star Gazer

imperial evil rings the rebellions bell  
and awakens the rebels fight 
allow for a new tomorrow 
a skywalker will be in plain sight 
his mind as sharp and committed 
as the nail that split the force
a parasite of the night are we
 the padawan has chosen his course!

 BY Mark Taylor: ......Star Wars......

Copyright © Mark Taylor | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |

Sonnet 14, Part 3 of 3

11. They came to devour and sin.
I was briefed by a cornucopia of beings:
From Torchwood, ARGUS, SHIELD and their kin;
The Talamasca, The Shop and MiB Greens;
A BPRD agent who was burning in Hell;
The Syndicate, Consortium, Watchers and Trust;
The Illuminati brought a golden bell;
C.L.I.T.O.R.I.S., MHI (such knowledge robust).
The collider at CERN had opened the rift.
A nanoscopic tear in a monstrous dimension.
Worshipers, ever vigil, exploited that gift.
Now we must, utterly, curtail their ascension.
Then into the house she entered, shrugging.
There was a kiss and a hugging.

12. There was a kiss and a hugging.
Rescued from a cult in Ipswitch.
Her demeanor, ethereal, bugging.
She slept with a peculiar twitch.
My angst and attention will have to wait
For monster judication and portal castration.
Outside, we gathered, fearing our fate --
Awful things floated like blimps in formation.
By whatever means, we search in teams:
Arkham, Innsmouth, Dunwich and Salem;
CERN, Antarctica, the Nan Madol dreams;
Jerusalem's Lot, Beelitz-Heilstätten Asylum;
Transylvania and the Isle of Dead Creeple.
We worship a circular steeple.

13. We worship a circular steeple.
Time repeats when trapped in a vortex.
I'm driven to Brooklyn in a VW diesel.
A Tesla device in a Gravesend complex.
Bug-eyed tenants, oblivious, contemplate.
In the boiler room, it whirs and hums.
A competent team attempts to recalibrate
Until a big blobbish Shoggoth comes.
Then two ... and three. We scatter in fright.
The Shoggoths engorge and enfold the device;
But, not before a self-destruct is set alight.
The object destroyed; but, at such a steep price.
These things are here to herd the sheeple.
Soylent Green is made of people.

14. Soylent Green is made of people.
The rift at CERN has closed at last!
A major cleanup, and a mess of fecal.
Civilians clueless through a MiB blast.
The sun is out, the sky sublime.
I drive, antsy, anticlimactic, anticipating.
A return to normal space-time.
Sad goodbyes. Partnerships dissipating.
I hold her hand on the couch of gloom.
Stroking her witchy, Veronica Lake hair.
A warm wind kisses the flowers in bloom.
The radio's singing, cable's back on the air.
She hisses with a tooth-decaying smell.
Ripples in warm sunbeams dwell.

15. Ripples in warm sunbeams dwell.
A soul in flux begins to stall.
I meditate on a living well.
I pray the night may never fall.
A flicker blurs beyond my eye.
Softly she sits upon my knee.
A many-legged thing I spy,
My silent lady tries to flee,
It's a beautiful world we live in.
A hole in space needs plugging,
They came to devour and sin,
There was a kiss and a hugging,
We worship a circular steeple,
Soylent Green is made of people.

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Ghost of the Raven

Sinister scene of a dark September sight;
Hell's horrific harridan, heralding the night.
Tangled and twisted, like taut, twirled twine;
Set upon Satan's wicked, shameful, sordid shrine.

Interred in a musty cellar deep in the earth;
A questionable life, without any worth.
Entombed in stone, imprisoned in time;
A ghost lost in a world of foulness sublime.

A cathedral lovely, it's steeple plated in gold;
Under its floors a demon, horrific stories untold.
Laid down to rest many a year ago;
Sepulcher to its sorrows, troubles and woes.

A massive stone door encrypted with ominous crest;
Leading down a corridor of perilous quest;
Anyone who would dare enter and walk down the stairs;
An incredible journey, beyond compare.

Ghost of the Raven, it's soiled tainted nest;
An edifice embodying every foul, decaying, rotting stench of death.
In this ghost's darkened, abysmal' crypt;
A squalor befitting betrayal - it's tainted carcass dripped.

As I stood in the horror of this insidious crypt;
Insanity beckoned to me as I quickly began losing, my tenuous grip.
As I gazed down that awful corridor of death;
I sensed, no I felt, the dark angel's searing, hellish breath.

Conjured from the depths of Lucifer's night,
It's evil eyes blazing, in obvious delight.
Breaking through the bonds of human desire,
Reaching for my soul, to harvest my being for his hellish fire.

Realm of darkness, fading into the morning light;
Contrasts of the netherworld, and the depths of the night.
Radiance of the dawn to dispel all my fears;
Ghosts of my conscience - yesterday's tears.


Copyright © R.A. Marschall | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

Sonnet 14, Part 2 of 3

6. Softly she sits upon my knee.
I doze and drift as the radio squeaks
Of sunspots and the honeybee.
The cab wind whistles and creeks.
I sense monstrous, hidden beings
Attempting to open forbidden portals
To hideous, evil, inhuman fiends,
Elder gods and insatiable immortals:
Kassogtha, incestuous sister of Cthulhu,
Craving worship and flesh to devour --
Shub-Niggorath, Ghast and Gug, too.
And what of the Mi-go in space at this hour?
The cabby awakens my dream to deny,
A many-legged thing I spy.

7. A many-legged thing I spy,
That swiftly creeps the fences.
My silent honey starts to cry
As sleep restores the senses.
In designated, remote locations,
Misshapen, proto-human forms
Recite blasphemous invocations,
Starting Tesla portal storms:
At the Transantarctic Mountains,
To the Lost City of Pnakotus;
At R'lyea's nightmare fountains,
To Yemen, Babylon and Memphis.
In subterranean caverns at the LHC,
My silent lady tries to flee.

8. My silent lady tries to flee.
I force an Oxy down her throat.
The phone is dead; no net, TV.
A car horn sounds a bleating goat.
I sit with her on the couch of gloom.
It's a hard day's night to be resting.
Recalling a pleasant Beatles' tune
When a bump at the door ... testing.
Three shark-eyed strangers, swaying.
She has risen, bloated, not right.
They crash through the door, decaying.
I'm immobilized by greenish light.
They molest her with unspeakable sin.
It's a beautiful world we live in.

9. It's a beautiful world we live in.
That Devo lyric the sound I hear.
Repeating cycles of Yang and Yin.
Darkness consumes light in fear.
Wrought from multi-infiniverse string:
Voyager probes sing DNA pattern;
Kong is the eighth wonder world King;
Flying parallel the rings of Saturn;
Andre the Giant, Bismuth crystals;
Jupiter spins its great red spot;
Machu Picchu, Yellowstone thistles;
Red bananas and old Martian snot;
Pyura chilensis (living rocks loving).
A hole in space needs plugging.

10. A hole in space needs plugging.
That's what I saw; but, I must have been dreaming.
Alone. Angry. That vicious mugging.
A connection to others who can see this scheming.
Why now? Perhaps, a rare cosmic alignment;
A natural or premeditated dimensional break.
The solution is clear: capture and confinement.
With senses enhanced, I cause allies to wake.
Thankfully, most of the planet has yet to succumb.
She was taken by monsters, forcibly -- or, voluntarily.
I wait patiently, in misery, for smarter ones to come.
Save for insanity, the Summer day proceeds ... warily.
The room is crowded with new friends who begin:
They came to devour and sin.

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

Sonnet 14, Part 1 of 3

1. Ripples in warm sunbeams dwell.
From a sandy cocoon I wake and stir.
A floater in the blue does knell,
A dot, a stain, a blackened blur.
Am I the only one who sees?
No, the beach is afoot with myriad peeps.
The knell is deep -- a woofer wheeze.
A transient blot that fades and creeps,
Until it is vanished and we all take a seat.
I gather my belongings, pining for home.
An odd Summer chill swirls the waning heat.
A disquiet, discomfort invades my bones.
Driving like ants, mindless, small.
A soul in flux begins to stall.

2. A soul in flux begins to stall.
On the cool of an evening breeze,
We listen for the cicadas' call,
Lighted by the firefly trees.
"They're disappearing," so she speaks.
"The birds, the fish and the honeybee."
My disquiet returns with an odorous reek.
I shamble in for beer and tea.
We retire to the living room
To watch a passive, virtual play.
On a couch that sinks into the gloom,
A strange perception has its way:
An eerie change that has befell.
I meditate on a living well.

3. I meditate on a living well
Through oceans of calm and chaos,
To deep depths where Dagon fell.
My teeth bleed of paste and floss.
The news is grim, the weather bright.
Two automatons breakfast in business style --
My eggs and bacon, her vegan delight.
Commuting to work from our secret isle.
Yes, a change -- imperceptible, queer.
A singular irritation of the masses.
An impossible shift in the magnetosphere.
The populace don their blocking glasses.
Stubborn separation and a promise to call.
I pray the night may never fall.

4. I pray the night may never fall.
In an outdoor cafe, absent of her,
A fish-eyed woman loosens her shawl
To an odd-smelling wisp of ocean liqueur.
The coffee cools in Creamsicle light.
Up in the sky I spot crosses.
Still no sign of my better sprite.
Some things land in saucers.
The city appears dimensionally off.
An amazing woman crosses the street.
"What happened, my love?" I cough.
"I can't ... remember," in deadpan greet.
I hold her close, without reply.
A flicker blurs beyond my eye.

5. A flicker blurs beyond my eye.
Cafe 14 shrinks in the rearview beams
Of the cab where I breathe a sigh.
A curious fly flits hither and preens.
She has not uttered a sound since 14.
There are people in the street disrobing.
The scenery swells, offensive, obscene.
A mist on the Hudson rises, disturbing.
I see ... things on the Bridge,
Across bumpy roads in disrepair.
Odors pervade like a forsaken fridge.
The Isle of Coney is drawing near.
Into the darkness we three....
Softly she sits upon my knee.

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Still Within Time

Still within this beginning of Time,
Her Goddess planted
one Tree of Life and Death
regenerating cycles of RNA intelligence
and permaculture.

RNA was and is in and of this Tree of Time
searching for what might rhyme
and rhythm as DNA collateral,
bi-elliptically smooth structuring
boundaries of genetic syntax.

Sun God impregnated RNA's 
Tree Time of ReGeneration
sprouting DNA's bicameral disposition
as if the Tree of Life and Death
had itself transformed
into a Second Millennial Tree of Knowledge of "Good" and "Evil"
as Life and Death,
ego's left-brain deductive transposition
of eco's right-brain Yang v. Yin disposition,
primal relationship,
comprehensively bilateral,

DNA started developing
icons and symbols of natural system experience,
and their dynamic seasonal-fractal perennial development,
numeric systems,
then linguistically encultured language,
new left-brain deductive grew Yang positive-dominant
elder right-brain's RNA,
more inclusively intuitive yin-yin's ecological reason
still squarely functional
within information's 0-core fractal-binomial,
gravitational as centrifugal balancing eternity
of Time's +/(-,-) tap root.

in this Third Millennium,
a binary digital 3rd echo-wave
liminally reflects both Trees coincidentally
through each other's evolutionary historical root system.

Bionic systemic intelligence grows where planted in QBits,
8 Bits per octaved, double-fractal, Byte,
open-systemic root systems
in bicamerally comprehensive consciousness systems
of information polynomial
not-not self-perpetuating polynomial
eisegetical wisdom
pre-languaged exformation
as "death"
"negatively correlational coincidence"
"paradox of Pandora's temporally co-redemptive convex v. concave redundant Box"
"Dark Hole pregenetive root compost dense diastasis"
"reverse-hierarchical Tree co-operative economic prescient information"
"cognitive dissonance 'un'consciousness"
"intuitive personal knowledge"
sorting through subconscious pre-language right-brained cultural awareness,
core tap rooted,
still spacetime's RNA fractally unfolding 
prime relational function.

Bodies function much better as intentional co-operatives
divested of endosymbiotic Win-Lose competitive monocultural entities,
toxic cancerous uncivil warriors within,
arguing about who will rule this formerly polycultural evolutioning nest.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Spoiled by Carson Eelman- 7th grader

A tribute to Ray Bradbury's The Veldt

by Carson Eelman

The nursery is a curious place
a place where dreams came true
inside lied an African Veldt.
In there the leaves would sway,
as the grass danced in the wind,
the lions roar, the sun beats hot,
it seems so real but know it's not.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

The power of imagination,
can be a wonderful thing,
full of magic, fun, and wonder;
but it can turn to darkness as well.
The nursery became corrupted,
with thoughts of death,
becoming real to Mom and Dad.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

The called a man
to see what's wrong
but honestly he wasn't sure.
He said they should take a break,
and so the father said,
"Shut down the house,
     we are ready to go," 
         but the kids said "Please No!"

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

They couldn't let it happen,
so they locked both inside.
The parents screamed and banged,
but to no reply.
The lions came and they were gone.
Peter and Wendy flashed a wicked grin,
then settled down and ate a meal.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

In a world where thoughts come true,
what evil acts young minds will do;
I don't think we are alone,
in this place where lions roam.

Copyright © Lynette Munich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Lyric |

Too much

Too            Much

Masochistic & Meretricious
Deaf, dumb, and desensitized
These roads are haunted
We become Superstitious
As the hills grow eyes

These actions have consequences
An open mouth full of flies
The putrid smell overwhelms the senses
Fervently escape your time to die.

These are the destined of the masses
They will not rest in their graves
A pandemic, global panic, supply stashes
Spreading terror with their mutant plague.

Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |


No smoke without fire,
Smoke to fight men fire,
None to fight smokers fire,
The smokers to fight cigarette fire,
Cigarette in face to face not in secret,
It's in fact a case brings regrets,
Smoking is like carrot to rabbits,
Days come to realize it isn't correct,
Our heart and soul born strict,
Our believes warning like a stick,
When some one picks smoking habit,
It becomes soon addict,
To decide and deliver his own verdict!

Copyright © Muhammad Safa Thajudeen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |

Chair Man

Chair Man 
He made a decision to clean the factory chimney out. 
Did he know it would be messy? 
I look out of my window and see so much smoke emanating from the chimney. 
It blanketed the fields in particulate sulphate alkali acid. 

I was so happy! I could be a zombie now. 
I ran down to the fields and danced naked in the grass. 
I was in a real pea souper of man made chemical arsenic fog. 

Right away it happened: zombification! 
My skin bubbled like acid and fell off in tatters. 
My lungs filled with liquid and I drowned in my own blood. 
Every orifice streamed liquid, a real cock burn. Won't be using it no more. 
The only gals for me will be ones I eat. 

The smoke thins and I see a watery sky. 
The pause between before and after. 

My life and my very body have changed for the better. 
I feel my teeth turning into steel shards that yearn for female zombie flesh. 

I go in search of my first victim. 
As I stroll thru the summer grass I see her. Mrs Peters from the farm. 
She looks disorientated. 

I close in.

Copyright © nick armbrister jimmy boom semtex | Year Posted 2014

Details | Classicism |

Was Evil Created by God...?

Challenged with this university question,
One researched Truth's 'whole confession.'

How many, to such a question, might dare say yes;
If God created evil then He is evil, one might guess.

But, then, one student did profoundly asked:
"Tell me professor, does cold exist to last...?"

The professor replied, "Of course it exists."
What was this brassy student's logic, or gist?

Amazingly, the bold student retorted, "That's not true."
"With laws of physics, cold is the absence of heat (for you)."

All can succumb to a proven study, as energy will transmit.
Cold does not exist; the word only describes how we feel, to fit. 

The calm student continued, "Sir, does darkness exist?"
The confident professor retorted, "Of course it does."

The student replied, "Again, Sir, that's not right;
Darkness is actually the absence of the Light."

Newton 's prism is used to break light into colours of aura.
Wavelengths cannot measure an unilluminated area.

The light's ray can break a world of darkness, illuminating it.
Darkness is termed to describe the absence of light, present.

Finally the youth asked, "Sir, does evil exist?"
A bit unsure the man said, "Of course (not wanting to resist)."

At last the youth replied, "Evil does not exist Sir (neath God's rod)."
Evil does not exist 'unto itself,' it is simply the absence of God." 

"God did not create evil, He created beings with free-choice."
The youth was Albert Einstein; I am 'only relating his voice.'

Copyright © Milly Hunter | Year Posted 2007

Details | Sonnet |

No Evil Bows (Heroic Sonnet)

I am the gray, damp, muted mist which slides 
Between the large, carved, marble marker stones; 
Alone they sit like weighted, gargoyle brides 
Above the dried-white, brittle, lambent bones, 

Now dead and silenced for iniquities. 
I glide inside the dance of death each night 
As wasted graves belch loud obscenities 
To rage against the blaze of righteous light. 

I am but smoke within a wicked wind 
But stand as witness to this brutal truth: 
The black of death ends not the pain of sin 
For evil preys on pulsing blood of youth 

And once possessed these young ones will be made 
A matrix of malevolence 'till death; 
Though even then no evil bows to fade 
Benignly, with death's rattled rales of breath. 

Do not take lightly words that I now speak; 
Great evil thrives when human will is weak. 


Copyright © tom mcmurray | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric |

Forty Six and Two is Descending

A time of pain
Lost in your mind
Playing games
The will of hers
Is strong like his
Soothing like furs
The weakest wills
Without domination
Or scepters gaze
No one will beat sin
Or get past this phase

The few have seen it
The few do know
Majority fails
While shadows glow

Walking the path
Is older now
Then gliding through it
Past Satan’s bow
No one can tell you
What lies past the way
So take back the two 
And conquer those who stay

Though few have seen it
Not many do know
That when majority fails
Our shadows will glow

Pick up the ashes
Retrieve lost tears
Stand up beside us
Let go of your fears
No more wandering
Alone in ourselves
Take back what was once yours
From a life you once dwelled

Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

the tale of the law the tale of evil

the law is the evil of a tale
the making of the law,
is the making of a evil tale
a evil tale is a evil law
a making is a making of a evil tale
a telling is a telling of a tale
a telling is a telling of the law

a telling of the law is a telling of evil
a telling is a telling of a making 
the making of the law is the making of a telling
a law’s telling is a law’s making
a law’s telling is a law’s tale
a power’s tale is a power’s tale of evil
power the mighty tale of evil

a mighty power is a mighty power of evil
a mighty power is a mighty tale of evil
evil is a mighty power of evil
evil is a mighty power of power
to power the law is to power evil
to power the law is to power the mighty tale of evil
a tale of a law is a tale of power

author notes: my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravanganza,etc… this poem is about a evil’s law is a evil’s tale. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.

Copyright © lucifer very very very 1st | Year Posted 2017

Details | Personification |






Copyright © E.M. Tingle | Year Posted 2012

Details | Narrative |


Stepping out into the Autumn night of Halloween
It is the Witches and the Warlocks turn to dance
Their air of mystery and mystic is all around
The zombies or the Undead cannot speak
but,their presence seems to be abound
Ghouls of the Men
Vampires within the Ladie's evil grin
It is out here on this Night
When old wives tale frighten us with delight
My footsteps carry me beyond the hill
A cemetery there which omits a deathly thrill
We(meaning a friendly spirit beside me)know the Cackle
Inside many tomb,ready to come out like a babe from its mother's womb
The moon is full and the Old Man paints his smile
Trick or treaters are out,,having fun for a little while
Tonight all Halo as strange yellow mist creeps from behind a boulder narrow
Dancing amidst the moaning dead,darkened shadows surround this timid Head
I feel like Ichabod Crane,strolling,with terror,upon the Midnight Domain
Maybe the old Headless Horseman
Perhaps,the wretched creature of a certain Frankenstein
Many of these apparitions could be just a figment or Reality having a smile
The Corridor of the dark as I wander through a deserted Schoolyard park
An evil happened there,just a few moons not  long ago
Halloween Night..1980 when I was ten
A grade schooler was being hazed upon
He was locked in a decrepit old trunk,tucked,not so sweetly away,in the attic of 
this old place..his peers left him for the night

They came back the next morning before the session began
after lifting a set of keys from the sleeping janitor,they went up to the attic to see
The trunk was open,HOW COULD HE HAVE GOTTEN OUT??
tip-toeing near the open trunk and peering down with trepidation..
only to find,a bloody handwritten note,written with EXTREME AGITATION


The school was beset by this horrible deed,and it was closed forevermore 
because the children confessed and the Pain would never recede
some say..the spirit of the little lad still haunts the old school
Laughter could be heard if many,who dare,decide to explore it and play it cool

Pardon me,my weary Halloween reader..it is TIME for me to head back before
I become no more,by an ominous Night Creeper(or the Ghost of The Attic Child!!)

Copyright © Bart Jonas | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |

**Devils Holiday** (The Horror Show)


                  An awful odor arises through a quick developing pea soup fog.
          Sounds from nearby crickets and frogs fade as light footsteps draw close, 
                                                       then stop.
              The fog gets thicker, thicker than before. The odor gets worse, more
                             concentrated. Your now ingesting an evil toxin.
              Violently your shoved to the ground from behind, something pierces
                                                      your neck. 
                      Evil memories, pictures of death swirl through your mind, 
                                  convulsing, as your body begins to turn.
                                             Suddenly all goes still...

                 You come to, but not like you once were. Something feels different, 
                 your vision is altered, you see only a crimson red. Motor functions
                                 once average feel almost supernatural. 
                                                       You died,
                                           revived, rise from death.
                                     You've become a dark death dealer.
                                          A new hunger has emerged
                                                       You leap, 
                                            submerge yourself in the 
                                                crimson substance, 
                                            riding the bloody waves.

                                           relentless in your attacks.
                                                Screams of horror 
                                                 a mass slaughter.

                    Your alarm rings soft, minutes later it screams in terror....
                                             I'm awake, I'm awake!!!!
                                              You open the curtain

                                                      The sun.......  

To be continued........

Copyright © Jared Pickett | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme |

Shadow Dreams

Evil lurks within the darkness of night it seems.
Humans hunted down by this creature in dreams.
The creature I speak of is evil to the supreme.
They satisfy their desire, within anyone’s’ dream.
Sceadugenga, shadow being that travels in darkness.
Shaping them and evolving into known likeness.
Taking a familiar form to negotiate simple madness,
Stretching the lucid dream driving one to aimlessness,
Folding your dreaming desires into evil beyond compare,
Shaping harmless dreams, into terrible ugly despair,
Captivating the goodness and spreading pain of mind.
Surrendering to the electiveness of a fantasy they find.
Twisting and turning the hallucination into nightmare.
Transforming your soul into helpless rubble to scare,
Until the shadow of Sceadugenga appears at nightfall,
While human is awake though in trance, total thrall.
They do bidding of the shadow beast, without recall.

written by
Cecil Hickman

written for

Sponsor Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Contest Name "CREATURES" of the Night!

Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Didactic |

Acts of God

Neither Mother Nature nor Father Time
Has ever railed any accusation
Against God with reason or with its rhyme
For earth’s travails, there’s no gratulation
In deeds of the gods evil to the hilt
Who bring such slanders; yet, they hold the guilt

With the prince of the power of the air
Who comes to kill, deprive and raze; the theif
Of the kings and rulers everywhere,
Orchestrating casualties and grief,
Thrusting in his sickle and clutching the snath
In anger and hatred reaps earth in wrath,

For he was cut down; falling to the ground
He drew the third of the stars of Heaven
With him, and his pomp; his viols did sound
Within his chaos until day seven
When God had made good that void with form and
On the day before gave man its command.

Thus, rage of the serpent was so subtle
To steal the crown to be god of this world,
But his time’s cut short since God’s rebuttal;
So he takes out his vengence, and it’s hurled
At those who have no law and make no pledge,
At overcomers gaurded with a hedge;

The winds, earthquakes and fires pass by with force,
But God only good, is without the blame
When Father tells Mother to take this course;
Since the gods follow evil to the flame,
The earth is in sorrows to be redeemed,
And God is the One most often blasphemed.

Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2006

Details | Dramatic monologue |


There is an evil haunting at my house,spirits roam around as free as the 
breeze.Callie sees dead people ,they frightened her,now she has stopped 
speaking.Liza hears voices,some people think she is insane.Devlin sees 
images on the walls ,sometimes he laughs with them.Max talks to himself,he 
even answers   sometimes.I am   the only sane  person left here,or at least i 
think i am.Aunt Elsie   comes to visit ,she brings the ghost hunters with her,to rid 
the placeof evil spirits .The ghosthunters are frightened so they leave.Aunt Elsie 
urges me to leave with her before the evil overtakes me too.I can not let this evil 
take my family away from me ,I must stay and fight to the end and never give 
in .Aunt Elsie leaves in tears ,for she fears she may never see me again.Two 
years has passed and the haunting is still here .Now  I am starting to hear 
voices    everywhere.Aunt Elsie has not visited for over a year.My body is getting is 
getting weak and the evil is getting harder to fight.There is no longer any hope for 
my derranged family,so I leave quietly in the night.I whispered a sad goodbye as I 
left crying in the night .The house has won the battle but not my soul ,I made a 
new life for myself in the village with Aunt Elsie ,the devil no longer has my 
soul.Everynight I say a prayer for my derranged family,that one day their souls 
may be freed,but I would not dare go back to that house of misery.

Copyright © kathy Gregg | Year Posted 2008