The innocence is transfusing
the goat skin drums
children of the mills,
children of the junkyard,
and we keep filling them with
mercury, nitrate, espestice, baby bombs
blasted out of their shaved heads
Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2015
She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror
Copyright © Bill Kim | Year Posted 2013
Long love day's has past.
My mind felt with howling storms,
grasping to hold on to vanishing love.
Rape and abandon my weary soul
transpires, poring with instant fires.
Oh this dark secret love does thy life
Like amorous birds of pray,
Once ways, and known devoured
Your beauty no more to befound
nor shall the sound of your voice.
Love to dust, love to ashes.
Our love has now gone to a private place.
The grave yard of love.
Copyright © JAY JOHNSON | Year Posted 2008
Hell freezes over. Fire into ice.
Ice…but without the chill, the cold.
I try to rethink how this happened.
How a world so green, so vibrant, become hell.
And now a pale white wasteland.
Agony to relief. A relief that can’t possibly last.
Impossibilities. A dream. Numbness.
As I emerge from my shelter, built to withstand dry heat, not cool precipitation.
I wonder at the beauty of this new and strange world.
The scorching I’ve received, now soothed by the cooler air.
Miniscule crystals, floating slowly to the earth, sticking to my hair.
Like dust. Not cold.
I see others as well, marveling at this white world,
revealing themselves to be inadequately clothed for this overnight change.
I hear a child’s laughter, excited screams as she experiences the cold for the first time.
I turn to watch, a smile on my face.
There in the white, brash scarlet stains the pureness.
The girl’s excitement turns to anguish.
She clutches her head, letting out a piercing cry.
Before my eyes, she transforms.
Her arms, becoming broken and lengthy, ending in tentacles.
Her face, distorted beyond recognition.
More cries, bawling, hammering of fists.
All around me, those whom I’ve grown up with become unrecognizable.
Their skin becomes a sickly green beige, the colour of vomit.
Suddenly everything stops. Silence…
Copyright © Zach Nathan | Year Posted 2012
A knife digs into my leg.
I look down and see my leg turning the same colour as the other’s skin.
Rotting, putrid flesh, spreading its disease up my thigh.
Pain arcs across my chest, spilling into my neck.
My hands, they’re becoming tentacles as well.
I can feel my bones shattering, slicing through my skin.
A flash of pain, and I’m on my knees.
My head is splitting from the pain. I can’t even think.
What’s my name?
Where am I?
I hear a hoarse voice in the back of my mind.
Give in. Let go. Now.
Unfortunately I don’t have a choice. My mind, it feels crowded.
Something is in my mind.
“GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD!” I scream, deafening myself.
A blood red is creeping across my vision, clouding my view.
More piercing pain, I can feel my back snapping.
I topple over to my side. My body is convulsing uncontrollably.
Finally, the pain gets the best of me. I can’t take it any longer.
The pressure in my head, consuming my being.
I attempt one last bravado.
I cling to one memory.
The memory of the girl.
But soon even she is corrupted.
The voice, calling to me. Tempting me. Strangling my mind.
Then, just before I black out, I hear her voice.
Come play with the me. Join us.
The sickly sweet, echoing charm of her morphs into a deep, throaty rumble.
Join me in the grave.
I am the Gravemind.
Copyright © Zach Nathan | Year Posted 2012
Elephant Grave Yard(OLd Eagle Feather)
Elephants do it or it seems they used two.
Made a place to leave they bones and went two there place
in great droves or herds i think they are called.
Old Eagle Feather was watching the women by the fire one day.
They were chewing jerky to make it soft for meat to eat.
Softening the jerky for little mouths to chew.
Old Feather he is now been called got up and off he goes.
Took up two stones of suprising weight,
and carried them toward the elephant grave yard.
I am going to my fate.He never shed a tear.
I have done it all my time is gone.Let me make no haste.
NO more wasted time in stories bye the fire.
I am just in time.
I see the elephants again,
they are all in line waiting to get in.
To my heaven.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2006