Success Horror Poems

NOTE: Some of you seemed to enjoy my stories from the past. Of course, posting this in the story folder is tantamount to burying it...

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III.
Christine began crying, Zack vomited,
Klaus couldn’t move as he stared at the mess,
only stammering,“W-what could do this?”
Surely no beat to which they could attest.

Then came...

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SSP Rao Anwar sab kia ap nay 
444 Fake Encounters kiye hain?
Agar kiye hain to phir ap 333 kay 
muqabalay mein 444 gang bana Lo..
Note.Corruption...

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In the remains of the day 
Looking away into the planes 
Green horizons void at the end
Of the gray dawn man washes 
His façade and...

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The Bloodstone, The Raven And Master Poe,
Part Two of Three

For seven years it had been wickedly clever
Doing just enough to sate its wicked desires
When begged...

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Questions

What defines... success?
Is it how many people you know. 
Is it where you have been, 
or where you will go? 

Is it who you talk...

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Peasant girl was now a knight’s wife 
Enjoying the step up in life 
For a spell 
She left the desert in order for the two...

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March came in like a lion
And never let up, not really 
The children, Markie and Stu, spent most of their day outside
Except, usually, for a...

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They all sit there lined up in a row 
Not knowing when exactly when to go 
Decisions are made on the image they are looking...

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What mankind dreams,
he will create;
his dreams will likely,
seal his fate.

Plenty of men,
have fallen prey.
To dreams that left them, 
to rot and decay.

The great inventions,
that man’s...

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Dance, my little pretty, dance. As I pull the strings she rises off the floor. Gracefully I dance her across the stage. How pretty she...

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Within womb universe’s birth
nebulous placenta housed 
seeds of life and white lily
billions of years in future

mid-wifery lady Madonna i.e. Gaia
twill abort... cancel... fail 
cosmic amniotic...

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PTSD

My nightmares are violent;
rifle jammed frustratingly dead,
broken stock useless as a club,
only a k-bar knife and free hand
reaching for those darting figures
leaping over my fighting...

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...It came two weeks later when Bud Biandi,
got his throat slashed in his garage.
He’d directed Cody in four hit films,
and made him part of his...

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Look inside my genocide, I have no more fears, but something to hide
My sweet success of emptiness, I shed no tears, for they have dried
Alone...

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