Hellhounds Poems

The Seed Of Fear - Cinderella

Ominous bays of hellhounds thunder in the bleak night
As a shattered glass slipper is found amongst powdered ivory snow,
The glint caught within incorporeal warping moonlight—
Leading to a blue grey corpse, mangled with frozen tears cemented in place.
Hands clenched around a copper timepiece,
The minute hand paused at one past twelve.
The putrid scent of desperation still hangs heavy in the air.

A note, scribbled in vermilion, is tucked within her bosom:

I'm sorry. I was overwhelmed—and so very lonely. She came to me with promises of grandeur. All I had to do was make a pact: be home by midnight, or my soul would forever be hers.

How could I resist? She seemed so innocent, with the smells of childhood lingering—conjuring up all that is glorious.

Besides, you, my dear family, seemed not to notice, nor care, about the pain quietly consuming me. So I took the deal, inked in blood and sealed with a poisonous kiss.

If you happen to find this note, I never made it back in time. And my fate lies within her mercy.

How far from earth are heaven and hell and other hellish verses?

How far from earth are heaven and hell?
And which way do you go to get there, pray tell?
Did God create a GPS for the soul?
Or did he give little devils or angels the role
to escort you to the place where for eternity you'll dwell?
It was so hot, my nose melted off my face.
It was so hot, my blistered feet got fused in place.
It was so hot because of an infernal fire
that God eternally stoked to fulfill his desire
to flash fry those who'd refused to be in a state of grace.

If not for this fence, there'd be no shade,
and we'd be burning up watching this hellscape parade
of hellhounds and lizards ~
and three-headed wizards ~
and griffins with gross gizzards ~
making the little kiddies afraid.

A Vine In Winter

Dewdrops, on me, like diamond dust, roll
Do they know that I shiver in my soul?
I feel the earth beneath me pull my roots.
Are hellhounds assigned to destroy my fruits?

In me, no birds and beasts find any fun.
I yearn for the graceful glimpse of the sun.
I feel the life sap in me is drained out.
I doubt whether new leaves from my stems will sprout.

The pruning scissors break my bones and veins.
Culling of my tendrils surges my pains.
I bear all these as they aren't forever.
Isn't, after all, life an endeavor?

Demons

Dog, a man's bestfriend.
Hellhounds, they are.
My spirit, you cannot bend.
I will not be your burning star.

Chaos, wicked and sneering.
The physical and the unseen world.
For everything is fearing.
Everything so twisted and whirled. 

3am is their favorite time.
Black magic, pentagrams, and their voodoo dolls.
Trying to get me in prime.
Living in the walls.

As above, so below.
In God you trust.
In the lake of fire, he throw.
You go back to dust.

The sleep until resurrection is eternal death.
They want me 6 feet under in a white gown.
He who takes the human breath.
Heebyjeebys, they wear their frowns upside down.

Like Hellhounds They Dance

  The sky, aloof now
    midst turmoil beneath
  Faint inspiration 
    can she bequeath

  Denizens of darkness
    like hellhounds they dance
  Stalking prey on shore
    the coastline explore

  And we few humans
    cower behind closed doors
  from the unlikely return
    of the hadrosaurs

My Vacation To Hell

I blazed a trail
On a trip to Hell
Fire and brimstone
Down a wishing well

I spent some time
On Satan's dime
A hot cocktail
With salt and lime

Then went ten rounds
With three Hellhounds
Using boxing gloves
Knocked them out of bounds

I met tortured souls
In deep dark holes
All wearing chains
And juggling coals

Then became aware
Every Demon there
Had a taste for flesh
Without the hair

After days on end
With my new found friend
With little doubt
Had no soul to mend

The Gates Below

Unto Acheron, great river of woe,
  the buried to the entrance gate are led,
in the underworld to Charon below
  to ferry across the souls of the dead.
Upon your lips, your eyes, a coin receive,
  a fare lest you be trapped between two worlds -
allowed to enter but never to leave
  where the waters of oblivion purls.
Where Furies dwell and Hellhounds guards the gate
  and souls are judged in Hades’s deathless reign -
to wander the Styx and Lethe in wait
  till rulers of gods and men part us twain.
The Pit of Tartarus where the soul yields
or sweet blissful isles of Elysian Fields.


              Written: May 2012

Demeter Cries

DEMETER CRIES

Sun in center and white wings around
The hundred florae in one stem, cheated; 
My daughter never knew t’was him.
The fragrance was sweet but toxic.
His chariot stood with black steed.
And he took her away to hell.
Long nine days I got killed by inches!
“Why have you done this to my daughter?”
“Hades wanted to marry her”, Zeus with no shame.
She burns in that hell guarded by hellhounds. 
She whispers to the air to save her,
I, her mother with a roiled heart stands, in the field.
No one turns to my wailing; I snivel day and night.
My tears have made the earth stiff and barren,
And the monster in me showed up.

The Unicorn's Return

Sam Adams 
was a paranormal researcher 
he was searching 
for mystical creatures 
that he was sure 
still existed somewhere. 
 
The banshees, bigfoot, the centaurs, 
the demons, the dragons, the giants, 
the hellhounds, the minitours, the leprechauns. 
The snowmen, the unicorns, and yeti. 
 
Sam Adams found a book 
the legendary infamous necormicron. 
Which many had dismissed 
as nothing but a story 
by Lovecraft and his fellow 
demented writers. 
 
Chanting from the book,
He opened the door 
the first through 
was the king of the unicorns. 
 
He brought with him 
thousands of his followers 
who launched a war 
against the modern world. 
 
The unicorn and his army 
quickly overwhelmed the world 
appointed Sam Adams 
as their ambassador, 
 
the unicorn smiled 
at his victory 
it had been a long time 
living in exile 
in the other dimensions.

Provoke Me

Hell has no fury,
        Compared to me.
       If you hurt my kids.

       If you craving for hell,
           Provoke me.
      You will see the burning flame,
          That ignites, inside.
       I rip your heart into pieces,
       Feed it to the hellhounds.
       You don’t want to see my rage,
         And cross my blade.

          I’ll slice you open,
         Let you bleed for days.
      Use your body as a voodoo doll.
        Don’t hurt my kids.
       My eyes will scorn your flesh.
       And your bones turn to ashes.
        Don’t hurt my kids.

        You will regret you are born,
              Beg for mercy.
            But it will not come.
         Flames of hell will rain on you.
            When I am done.
           Don’t hurt my kids.

         I will walk into hell,
          To protect my kids.
             So be worn,
          Don’t hurt them.

The Feeling of Getting Lost In a Book

The Feeling of Getting Lost in a Book
When I read a book,
I lose sense of what's around,
with unimaginable creatures,
like multicolored baboons or hellhounds.

When I read a book,
I leave everything behind,
To enter the story,
With the power of my mind.

Imagining the actions taking place,
in front of me,
through my mind's eye,
I become what I want to be.

In some places its funny,
and I break into peals of laughter,
While in some I think,
There should be a happily ever after.

I like adventure and mystery best,
with comedy in the rest.
I LOVE BOOKS

Hellhounds Doggie Chow Part 2

While you’re around he pretends to be with you until the bitter end. He never intended to honor his words, nor carry you through thick and thin, to have your back or be your friend. And when at last the spell is broke, Turn around...Take a second look.....

Banksys On Razors Edge

In a house of cards
in torrential rain
social media overload
floods my brain.
Wave after wave 
you feel the pain.
Heading down the hallway
into the dark,
the imminent 
and dissonant 
hellhounds bark.

From the penthouse of hypocrisy 
I jumped onto a train
Heading nowhere and arriving too soon
I watch as a little girl forever reaches 
for her red balloon.
The Queen of hearts has her axe to grind
Her targets locked.
She rears back
Lowers her blade
As another head drops
We’re well away from this blood lust fray

It’s just a matter of time
til the skeletal banshees and their vigilantes
wave red flags 
for their divergent paths
Driving away
ALL that is meek
ALL that is good 
Running in circles
forever misunderstood 

In a black glass
Chipped and cracked 
You can see them still
Never approaching 
Never fulfilled
In a timeless dance
They writhe and flay
This storys’ musical refrain
Frozen silent 
Their world will ever remain.

Free Verse Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor Joseph May

Bug Eyed Lady By Aspartameloaf

by Aspartameloaf

Bug-eyed lady ugly lady
Strolling slowly towards the sun
Bug-eyed lady cavern's lady
Child of hellhounds, friend to none.

Why Do You Keep Coming Back

why do you keep coming back

Sometime after I stopped writing, I began again.
And the time after that.
After that as well.
I threw the words away, but
they
came 
back.
Like loyal puppies.
Or hellhounds.
I would curse the demon
that took possession of my fingers
and forced me to tap-tap on the buttons
until the edges of my mood smoothed down.

I never thanked it.
I never understood why I needed to.

But perhaps I have learned my lesson.
They reached into nothing
and dragged me into light.
And now I have found them and they will shake my being for months to come
And I will write and write and write until I am ready to feel safe again
Safe knowing I am safe from all meaningful knowledge
All esoteric verse and corrupted metre
Until-

Until I am ready to lay claim to 
words written on walls.

It seems like you are very much back with a vengeance.

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