Best Fiendish Poems

A collaboration with Ink Empress, a piece we wrote for “Woman’s Day” for all the strong women warriors out there. Your strength is felt. 

“Untamable...

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Her trembling twilight 
dims with streaking purple tears
bruised by youthful years of bleeding pain
hurting but never hugged --
locked in the arms of atmosphere’s apathy
that smeared...

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For I am death, the personification of pure evil,
The grand godfather, of legions of unnumbered generations.
Behold thy disciples, baptized beneath my crimson waters,
Of blood.
Then reanimated...

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On the night before Christmas, alone in my house, 
Sorrow gnawed at my soul, like a ravenous mouse.
Entombed in my blankets, I struggled to sleep,
Ready...

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Today I found you cornered, drenched in cold,
your fur coat nothing but a newborn's down,
a tiny ball unfolding while I hold
you shivering. Your lacerations frown

and...

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Once so loyal and always true the gargoyles watch everything now
During their stony slumbers with their careful one-eyed open view,
As evil red-eyed demons rain down...

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I was enjoying my time in the sandbox
When a redhead with freckles climbed in.
The glint in his eyes left no question,
His mission was ruin and...

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Note:***This poem is meant to be read from the bottom to the top, left to right 
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Never Again
and you remain—

For the World has gone from...

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Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery...

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Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery...

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A funny frog called Mr Snog,
once lived beside a slimy bog,
he was a most peculiar fellow,
his hat was red, his boots were yellow,
his waistcoat was...

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Once upon a midnight, ghostly,
Partied many, dead ones mostly.
Feasting in the graveyard, sprightly,
White eyed werewolves gorged, engrossedly.

In the bone yard, drab and squalid,
Apparitions (staring stolid
Neath...

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Made is she of the finest porcelain, that daddy's
Money can buy, with soft raven tresses, and blue
Hued shining eyes.
My pretty Polly baby doll, has a...

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I think that I shall never see
A lovely poem written in defense of the bumblebee!
The ponderous and not so glamorous humble bee -
Obviously dreamed up...

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* Many years now since this very talented, very HUMAN guy left us … those holes never fill, and he is sorely missed. (This is...

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