“But as always in my strange and roving existence, wonder soon drove out fear; for the luminous abyss and what it might contain presented a problem worthy of the greatest explorer.” – H.P. Lovecraft, from “The Nameless City”
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2-16-22 – 9:52 a.m.
A dog barking in the distance in the middle of the night. A creaky door opening and closing. Soft, cold wind. A dark, moonless sky. Up in the twilight hours, this is what nightmares are made of. Calm before a storm. Before the attack, always imagined but never happens. Make sure all the doors are locked. I’m home alone and, though my mental health is good, fear runs below the surface.
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I want to burn it all down
I’m not proud of it
But I must admit
I’m drawn to the destruction
Like a moth to a flame
The death-instinct deep inside
Driving down the highway
Passing the car crash
And turning my head
To see if anyone’s dead
It’s deplorable – this overwhelming urge
And I notice how it surges
And it’s like a scourge
The self-sabotage and the purge
That puts us on the verge
Of tearing everything down
traveling the dark tunnel
there’s no end up ahead
only pitch-black fear
innocent cries I hear
the virus has destroyed us
but in our weakness
we find strength
Continue readinglook what emerges from black mountains!
God help us all – the army marches
toward the town, big boots breaking
hard winter ground, a sound
so horrible we clasp our ears
our worst fears coming alive –
they call these men “peacekeepers,”
& i scoff – they don’t want peace,
but to tear us to pieces
bloody bits splattered on cabin walls
the end of our lives for sure,
we’re sure when the first machine gun
rattles like a diseased lung
we’ll melt into the red earth
(Photo by Beat Schuler on Unsplash)
Unless you live under a rock, you’re probably aware there’s an election going on in the U.S. right now – and it’s ugly. As the vote drags on, I’m becoming more weary and tired of the ugliness.
Full disclaimer: I support Joe Biden. I’m happy it appears he’ll win, and for the past four years, I’ve grown to very much dislike Mr. Trump. Either way, I’m sad about what’s happening in my country and the way this election has driven us even further apart.
Continue readingwhen day becomes night
people tuck into beds
drop their heads
on puffy pillows & blankets
back from coal mines & factories
of fear, soaked in mud
smeared with oil of
dire times –
they were once in their primes
these working men & women
but now bones hurt
spines shatter
blood splatters
when day becomes night
Traveling through America, in search of the Shrine
you know the one, mister, the place that encapsulates
our nation’s fears, dreams, triumphs + loathing –
some say the shrine is a shopping mall
Mother Church of Consumerism
but you know better
Continue readingThe woman sits at the window
she’s always there, she stares
at the outside world
her sallow skin a testament to an indoor existence
terrified to leave the ivy-covered house like
a cat that fears and is fascinated by the outdoors.
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