Metaphor Holocaust Poems

My friend, don’t struggle so
Not much longer to go
No more working for the all-mighty buck
No more lusting after the…
Ahhh your dirty mind 
Will be the...

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The bar door is ajar only fading voices
echo into the void, from nowhere...and afar!

Here n there, trash drifts
ghosts in flickering neon 

Broken floating bloated 
dead...

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Is that you there 
I recognize that stair
Those eyes of a faraway dream
Fancy seeing you here, on this twilight day 
While walking along this 
Sterile...

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I can feel this heartbeat, gentle rhythm deep 
under my feet, I can feel the blood seep… 

I keep it clean, I can feel the...

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When is a house, not a house
but a home, a place to call your own 
a box to fill with treasures 
of heart and objets...

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White Lace

Mother died today. 
They called me. 
I thought they did not have, my number. 
They never called before, now. 
Why bother to call now?...

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a procession

shadowed ravens watch 
depressive day turns
the winds bring Frost 

Skelton branches clutch 

Ghosts dance after the fall 
The procession crawls 
To the point of...

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Hay now, now sing this corrosion
Of winter wastes and Red stars white nights

And waring tribes a bully on the block 
To kick you when your...

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And demons scream
Into the crowded sky
Of lands built in absence of mind
Of neon dreams, diners,
Haunted Malls n parking funeral lots
A ghost nation walking the wastes
Of...

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On forboding...


The rocky cliffs 
Stark against midnight 
Somber and austere.

Darkness sharp cold drifts 
In hollow halls 
In empty rooms with broken windows!

Deep underground...
In the deepest...

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The ground is hard 
from last night's snow
all creation has frozen, 
slick ice from a day of infernal sun

Twilight has bled away to pitch-black onyx...

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There it sits…
in the dark corner a hollow thing bony arms skeletal

Is it grinning 
There sitting closer in shadow even in Light.
Black Eyes staring. 

Things...

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the boulevard is desolate
as is the light that cracks bleeds 
runs here there everywhere! 

trash drafts like ghosts 
in the flicker of dying neon 
something...

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A chrome gun glittering 
in the hot sun raise, rays radiating 
like a heliographic rainbow,
drawn from shimmering halos 
of inferno light, hot.

White smoke from a...

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Out into the wilderness haunted by ghost town’s ancient bloodstains and lost history scars. 

We wander the dark borderlands between awakening dreams and incandescent seams....

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