Best Horrific Poems
The glass chatters, clanks, and shatters
As it hits the ground
But makes no sound
The only thing heard is the
Screams of pain
As I get hit into the glass
Blood everywhere
Pain unbearable
The ripping of flesh
Cracking of bones
Screams of pain
Yet no one hears the screams
No one to save me
From this nightmare
From that thing
Evil and putrid
Bragging of his virtue
But he’s hurting me
Ripping my skin
Breaking my bones
No one can hear my screams of pain
Why can’t they hear me?
Does virtue truly block others from seeing the torment before them?
Does it make its followers so blind they cant see the bruises?
Does it make its followers so deaf they can’t hear me begging for mercy?
First of all, forget the rhyming - it's not gonna happen.
Or - if it does, by happenstance, be mildly surprised.
No loft or glory here be found - AR!
Now, like a pirate I do sound.
Dammit!
I promised you no rhymes.
A hazard spun from occupation;
a rhyme, a rhythm: (entertainin'?)
Well, maybe not, but rest assured, no fear.
'Tis not an epic, nay! The end is here.
Hooray!
~TH~ http://wrongwaywriteway.com
Horrific News
The horror of dreams
Crashing and causing me flight
I saw him fall
Like the crashed plane
I had a hope
That of waking up
In blinking of an eye
The horror of reality
Men dressed in foggy
Singing an unknown elegy
His face upside turned
In his only chattel
Adieu Amis curiae
A tragedy without raison d'être
From whence it came and for what purpose, completely mystifies.
Could be from earth's galaxy with The One God to look toward
or another universe, though those with degrees say such is jive.
Perhaps, said denial is one omnipotent wisdom has long adored.
Here it did appear, causing humans to endlessly, painfully agonize,
as it senselessly, cruelly, ever stains us to deny us an Eden accord.
Hate is why we are here, we are to love it away, make it vaporize.
God made egos sick prone so hate lessons come and are absorbed.
To aid this, He put truth in our souls that further nudges us to realize
all hate guises and love alter them radiantly, spiritually restored.
First hate likely fast flashed with potential to pass ignored
but due to an attention need, first man chose to dramatize.
Seeing his feelings fed, others wished to feel likewise preferred.
Egos grew and began dramatizing all happenings under the skies
as if all time brought was for just one person's discord or reward.
Since, selfish, hate based fallacies have destroyed peaceful lives,
caused horrific wars and nightmares harmony cannot afford.
Earth and mankind are saturated with violent blood and soul cries.
Some do not even know why they were handed a gun or sword.
Still, back and forth, hate ever slithers towards peace's demise.
HORRIFIC HIGHWAY
Driving at the speed allowed
On Highway N17, traffic ploughing,
Zig zagging, racing, and over taking
Accidents in the making,
Motor bikes screaming past,
Driving fanatically fast,
Showing off thinking it’s a blast,
A terrifying scene,
Spades, The queen
Of death on the road,
A taxi collides with a
Garbage truck,
Taxi overloaded, what
Incalculable bad luck, people just fly
As most the passengers die,
And garbage and muck,
Fall out of the truck.
Driver trapped underneath,
Fire men, paramedics
Try to pull him out from beneath,
Traffic police guiding cars, into
One lane,
For some, it will never be
The same,
As ambulances carry the
The injured away,
To perhaps see another day!
The dead covered with silver
Thermal blankets are waiting
For the mortuary van
Damn,
Don’t want to see any more,
Want to run,
But trapped in heavy
Traffic jam,
I want to scream and scram,
Suddenly the police open,
The road,
Other cars also broken,
But minor injuries
Thank God,
1st responders, I must
In awe, laud!
NON METERED TAXI’S IN SOUTH AFRICA ARE ALLOWED UP TO 15 PASSENGERS IN A MINI TAXI
AND UP TO 22 IN THE LARGER ONES – THIS WAS AN OVERLOADED MINI
TAXI – MORE OR LESS HALF THE PEOPLE SURVIVED. THIS OCCURRED JUST OUTSIDE
JOHANNESBURG
Rose cut letters
and lines on useless trains,
Cardboard cities
and coffee cut blankets,
At the end of leaving you
I saw you once before,
how incredible
to see you again,
some time...
Stance of bleep calls
ruffled admission
a million windows a go...
Doorways will light up forever
through the wooden combat I go
to open and pass
back and forth.
Shapeless flickers.
Goodbye
in hoping to say hello.
Horn Horrific Haiku
Was I horrific
Or have I been terrific
Be more specific.
Jim Horn
found natural flow
now where will I have to go
who would tell me so
my poems are greatest
unless may be a sadist
read my poems latest
they slowly dissolved
what around had they revolved
with poems are involved
reality stark
either daylight or in dark
read my poems in park
a blanket statement
make sure you know what you meant
may have to repent
Form:
A noise startled her, and thinking of cats, she didn't bother to look;
it turned into a groan, a scratching noise, a squirrel loud munching.
She ran to the kitchen and jumped on a high chair holding a book...
" What could that thing be? " It emitted groans and had a bad smell.
Lynn panicked, she had left the cell phone on the folding chair outside,
and fearing the worst, she positioned herself in a slightly curved-up pose
with her head drooping while she tried to spot the unwelcoming intruder;
soon her fright would become horrific, spotting a slowly-moving raccoon.
The ugly creature looked up and saw nothing moving, then trudging
on his four legs, he climbed up to the table and started eating apples.
Lynn's horrific experience taught her to stay very calm and breathe;
waiting and not giving into fear, she felt relieved when he raccoon left.
Any difference between feeling horrified, on one hand,
and disenchanted terrifying thoughts, on the other,
seem connected to punishing error and folly in others
unlike our self-righteous ego identities
trained to settle for a Win/Lose anti-communal
anti-trusting world.
Such disparities are even less wise when paranoid
and manic,
a difference in degree
between tragically toxic and merely Win/Lose business as usual,
between outside projection and inside rejection
on our shared global potential enchantment stage.
Then, too,
perhaps any disappointing difference between climatic ecstasy
and everyday enchantments,
in-between wu-wei,
still kindly loves our best
and healthiest
and most beautiful,
sensual,
graceful local cooperative presence.
Each ecstatic day may bring some of both
cooperative enchantment
and Left v Right disenchanting competitions
to avoid horror and terror out there,
without doubt,
but also everyday disenchantments
of a complex,
sometimes chaotic,
domestic inside/outside competing darkness.
The man staring back at me
I knew what he’d done
He killed my friends
He killed my family
We had lost our battle
What would I do?
I knew what was coming,
That dark forsaken fate
That soon would surround me
For I was locked
In this mans chains
Of Cell 25
The day that my life changed
I’ve seen too much blood
How will I recover
I know what would come next
For I slowed his process
But he was on the bad side
I did what I had too,
We used to be friends
But then he changed
He wanted revenge
The vengeance was undefiable
The fate that is near
Is Death
Prolific used to refer primarily
to people, animals and plants
Those who produced abundant offspring
like kittens, puppies, and ants
Today we hear about prolific authors
Steven King comes to mind
But thanks to Malthus, Marx and Lenin
Folks in the West are disinclined
I received a bag of mystery seeds in the mail
I didn't know what to do with them so,
I took them outside to be sorted out
When some birds swopped down, grab
The seeds then flew away, three days later
Some giant birds flew in my yard an sat
Suddenly,they begun to tear through my flowers
As if they were looking for something
I recognized two, from their feathers and markings
But their faces had turn into something horrific
Big budging eyes an growth covering their faces
They had turn into monsters from eating the seeds
If humans had planted the seeds to grow food
They would be ugly monsters to
Cognitive disruptions becoming commonplace
In a world where decay is perversely normalized
A society so infatuated with chasing
the next dopamine fix
Fiending for a superficial recognition
The days of beneficial discourse
And genuine regard for the well-being of others
Have withered away into a most malicious wind
One that carries good intentions into graves
And perpetuates the degradation
Of those who, in waning hours
Might have been able to reverse
The course of an insidious massacre
He slips the noose around her slender neck
Cloaked and masked with heavy breath
He can't help but be obsessed
All the dolls hangin' around - pretty little lies that make not a sound
The poison of passion imagined as they are undressed.
The dead in their eyes is magnificent
Ivory skin - chill to win
Realm of the dark, lips apart, he just has to do it - again and again
The equinox of evil with the essence of sin
Is it vanity or insanity - his dressing up to lure them in
Disquiet Devilry and a sip of gin and the perplexity of the evil twin.
The morbid beauty of death and dying
The lovelies I have twirling in the twilight
Death has changed my life - the quiet peace holds the ladies and - I tight
The divinity of debauchery - death is not treachery
It's like an estuary of decadent innocence.
Dainty damsels dangling Breathless but fabulous
Envisioning slitting their throats as if they were flowers
Heinous and horrific the macabre abounds
A carousel of corpses, a ballet of cadavers, a symphony of death
Dazzling
The eloquence of the end-of-life - exquisite and eternal
His masterpiece just hang'in around.....