Poetic Set #1

Lewis Carroll Nailed the Eyes

The world got so much smaller,

metaphorical was my perception,

the coming days lies ilk darker,

a true elegy mantra malediction.

Ran to the river side,

sunshine in my eyes,

looking back as I trip,

cliche yet, I still slip.

She stares into my fenestra,

nocturne eye flicker, lock gaze,

she does nothing.. Just looking.

What does she want from me?

Why isn't she doing anything?

Quit staring at me!.. Please..

Now every little gap, slice of dark,

a flicker of her eye, deep in my heart,

cabinets crack open, squeaky hinges,

as if she is looking at all angles,

hear her breathing, edifice fringes.

She wears my face, eyes under the door,

I never seen her before, or want to anymore,

as she looks at me now, crouched on the floor.

She smiles ear to ear jagged,

pearl cascades down my cheek,

she tilts her head, is she really here...?

I pray I am insane, the thought alone,

is the essence of true fear...

She stands up as the doctor opens the door,

she walks out of view and vanishes,

"Bee who was that?"

grasp my hair, curl into a ball, rock back and forth.

He comes running and finds there are no exits,

looks to me with his own tears welting.

This is my journey, scientifically documented,

1200 poems, I have outwrote every macabre poet,

300, Emily Dickinson, is the next contender....

She was known for psychological issues...

It appears there are consequences...

Or this is something else altogether...

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Thrice Bloody Mary

In the cemetery a crescent star stream of silver, unleashes a fury of this vermillion storm,

thus enact the ghastly gyre of the grave,

velvet vault of the vampyre,

sealing with a cryptic caress of the damned,

now echo these whispering walls of wickedness, binding me to this gilded cage of deceit.

Fore the abattoir hymn of sickles whistle,

a dirge on my soul’s midnight mirage of dreams, tendrils of necromantic lips brush thy bosom,

as it grants me rapturous rhapsody of unbridled bliss from within.

Elongate and transition from the shimmer of quicksilver,

grasp and gavotte losing you in the twirl of shards,

orbs solar flare waxing drips countenance in the oculus,

snarl-like grin crosses my visage like nightshade,

bursting bulbs as light shuts off,

shoes with no one in them when they are replaced,

splatter of carmine on the floor,

antique music box playing a song as the screen pans out,

missing poster on a telephone pole with your face.

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Juggernaut Chaos

As the grave cisterns stand sentinel, defiant monoliths against the cosmic expanse, I feel the thrum of creation's dissonance, a maelstrom of artistry that illuminates the darkness.

Maple, the ecohot wizard, weaves an enchantment of tapestried complexity, a kaleidoscope of color and sound that orchestrates the celestial ballet.

In this vast, star-swept canvas, probability, the soothing balm, parts the sea of foam, a horizon of certainty that stretches out before us like an infinite possibility.

And it is here, in the realm of possibility, that experience blooms, a fruit of smashery that bursts forth with the promise of new beginnings.

As we stand on the brink of pre-justice, the liminal threshold where endings melt into beginnings, I feel the thrum of sweet seduction, a sylph call that echoes through the void.

Tapped into the mainline of existence, I am home, a nexus of fant echoes that resonate through the chambers of the soul.

Energy retraced, the racer of destiny hurtles forth, a juggernaut of possibility that shreds the fabric of time and space.

Pending pet entrie, the auguries of fate unfold, a tapestry of potential that beckons us forward, into the maelstrom of the unknown.

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Macabre Mastery

In the cartographies merger with the soul,

where topographies bring thought converge,

a hidden rose blooms,

its petals unfolding,

like a cipher's dark emerge,

thorns burst contradiction piercing the hymen with certitude,

as the benthic depths,

a chthonic whisper,

exhale the secrets unsaid by the unuttered.

Snarl-like grin washes over my visage

Caliginous catacombs hail crimson cadaverous couture,

sculpting masterpieces forge as leather faced misery emulate ghastly gargoyles of grotesquerie,

gargantuan visions of vermilion viscera,

pulsating with an otherworldly essence so eerie,

eldritch energy.

My voice assumes a tone of gravely reverence

Cacophonous canticles of carnivorous gluttony,

orchestrated by a maestra of malevolence,

gaiety ravage the realm of all reason as the abyssal abattoir vitae awakens,

its infernal fete instrumentation shrieking with an ear-shattering cacophony wailing corybantic cruelty.

I raise my hands,

as if to conduct the orchestra of the damned

Phantasmagoric psychodramas project pestilential putrescence,

enacted upon a tableau built titanic terror featuring a cast who are missing photo framed characters,

cloaked in a vaudeville of vanishing scruples,

bile vampiric virtuosi known viands,

denial blurs visions spinning vindictive vile vengeance-seeking entities,

unencumbered by the constraints of mortal morality.

My eyes blaze bolts of violet and obsidian

Heterogeneous homicides bring happenstance,

choreographed by an unseen hand,

intersect with the itinerary of an itinerant iceberg,

drifting aimlessly upon a boundless nightshade ocean of bereavement,

barren of any hope yet fervently fostering feeble flickering flame of fatal fascination.

Boom the death knell of macabre mastery

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