The windows in this house
have seen more tragedies
than playwrights could ever pen.

Nightly on TV,
mortals treat lives
like dice in backgammon.

Reality is so fierce,
even pain must
breathe into a paper bag.

These words
are bandages
for wounds only love
can heal.

Love’s been quarantined,
too contagious for men
who became gods.

Debates turned to civil wars,
making those with sense
stingy with their views.

A distant cackle of a witch
Spells a crafted costume, stitch by stitch.
Clanking bones are moving in the wind,
Jack skeleton winked before he grinned.

Pumpkin heads seem like they're alive,
Glinting in the moonlit drive.
Ghosts and ghouls came out to play,
On this Halloween scary day.

The corpse bride, with her shriveled head,
A scary beauty before she wed.
Sparking an image of fear or dread,
In this world of the living dead,

My corpse will rot
in mother earth.
The worms consume
my bones.

There's nothing here
worth saving.
The grave will be
my home.

Once I sang a happy tune,
for all the world to hear.
Now I'm standing in the rain
grinding all my gears.

Stuck here in this chaos,
I subsist from year to year.
Waiting for the End of Times
to satisfy my fears!

She is a delicate presence
as thin as daylight
washed in the cool of morning

Her daily aspirations
stained by a shadow
streaking from beneath a single cloud

A cloud that follows her
and every yesterday

..a miscarriage
of some god's injustice

But, even so
she drives the want
that I have always known
The hunger of curls in the fog
perfumed by that field of lavender

I wander...
and when I breathe her in
she appears as a tiny goldfinch
then rises like the sun

Horror stories aren’t always about ghosts
Or goblins scaring us beyond belief

Watching a loved one in the last hours of life
Far exceeds any Halloween fears

Seeing a child with her days cut short
Rips out our heart and sucks the air from our lungs

Hearing the Doctor’s sad response
Brings tears to our eyes and knives to our chest

A picture unable to exist in our thoughts and words
Is a true horror story that scares us to death!

If I don't confess,
You'll know nevertheless—
My eyes, they effortlessly express
What the heart longs to dress.
Kinda silent obsess,
More or less,
I guess.

I believed fortune cookie maxim
cryptic message couched
Apple Macbook Pro update process
alternately titled “markedly
a Luke warm welcome Matt unfurled
courtesy Jimmy John,
who embarked on
imp apostle bull mission
going to find Mark Twain.”

British 50th infantry
began at seven twenty-five
morning had clear and dry weather,
each man happy to be alive.

Gold Beach, in the center of sites
battling their way through a long day.
The battle ran hot as blood spilled
the fighting British did not sway.

A floating harbor built at "Gold"
allowed immense supplies and men
unloading at this new beachhead
Creating a welcome demesne.

They wake up naked
Bereft of morals; ethics
The carnage took place

John was surrounded by a clowder
of cats trapping him in his shelter
They were

Undernourised for human flesh
Haggard with dilating glowing
chips of silver green and golden
hues

spearing through, the dim retreat,
Lit by a few waving candles and
Climbing shadows. Their

Bladed claws and famished
lips
of strings of drools, heads
outstretched

skulking towards him, paws
like blades,
getting nearer.
Pink tongue grooming,
licking off
Human blood soup.