Archive for the ‘Dark’ Category


In Abuse, Amanda Todd, Bullying, Dark, Death, Suicide, Ugh on October 17, 2012 at 12:26 am

I don’t have a problem with suicide. I have a problem with a society that drives people to despair.


Hard Candy

In Abuse, Dark, Drug Addiction, Fear, Indifference, Life, Loss, Madness, People, Poetry, Poverty, Sex, Ugh, Very Bad Poetry, Violence, Weird on October 9, 2012 at 8:52 pm

Camilla d’Errico, Cotton Candy Curly Cue

Candy gave sold the Man-child what no girl ever really had

Sold it

Took it

Is what she did


She took her requital

Again and again

Then she took some more

More and more

Days become years

Candy took and took

She took what he had

She took what she took

She put it in her arm

When that wasn’t enough

She started doing him harm

Grave harm

Failed to make her

Go away

Just leave

Him alone



She came

It wasn’t her problem

But, hey, all the same

It had to be someone’s

Should have been



The kitchen

Candy’s throat

A blade

A glint

A sharper look stabs her eyes

Take a hint

“You’ve got one last chance, bitch

Grab what you can

Run for your life

You come back again

I’m not thinking twice

Gladly do Time

To see you go ‘bye.”

Right on the edge

Girl made the dive

Scored a 10 and 4 nines

Her very first try

Candy booked it

Right outta sight


Until now it would seem

Candy’s sweet meet

She dictates the plays

Basks in her fame

To beat


At her own game

Save him

Someone had to

Had to



to that

Black pool

I fear

For Girl

Cannot swim


Girl is my friend. Candy is Girl’s ancient history ex’s ex. Man-child is his brother.

The Magic Tree

In Dark, Fear, Life, Loss, Love, Madness, Magic, People, Places, Poetry, Very Bad Poetry on August 8, 2012 at 2:34 pm


Alone here

In the secret garden

Heavy, sickly heat

My snowflake gown


A cool breeze

Just now

Consoles me

I feel him


I see him

Walk on by

Dripping with dread

Clad in Red


He stands now


The Magic Tree

Crashing cymbals


Anguished screams

“Where are you, my Love?!?

Where, my Everything?!?

Why hast thou forsaken me?!?”

The first stoic man in Blue


Striding through

“Blue Man,

The man clad in Red,

Full of dread

Is this the one

You seek?

Be gentle

He has lost

Is lost


He is crying


You will find him


The Magic Tree…”

Blue stoic

Growing empathy


For Red’s sorrow

I see the Tree

Is not as Magic

As I hoped

It could be

For, surely,

If it were


There would be


The Blue men

Gently shepherd

The Red man


I must

Make haste

Of this place

Tout suite

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters

In Art, Batman, Dark, Death, Fransico Goya, Indifference, Life, Loss, Love, Madness, People, The Joker, Ugh on July 31, 2012 at 12:14 pm

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, Fransico Goya


The ‘Joker’ is a tortured soul?

This is REALLY bad.

He looks really afraid and bewildered — no doubt heavily medicated — to me? There’s something in his ‘ness’? He doesn’t know what’s going on anymore than the rest of us? He’s broken?

The ‘monster’ show isn’t materialising for me, yet again. Vilifying this young man will not serve us well. No. Not at all. He needs help. We need help. This is a monstrous scenario. Our society — all of us — are implicated here. We’d best step-up.

Maybe there are few real ‘monsters’, only monstrous scenarios? What if they’re all just sad, pathetic, broken people? Broken beyond reason, comprehension?

Who broke them so badly? Who? What? Where? When? Why? How?


The help being offered many is no help at at all, Batman? Someone should have seen this coming? It would seem those who did stood idly by?


They chose to do nothing. Then said, “Oh, we knew something was wrong.” They let him down. They let us down. They let everyone die. Don’t make he same choice they made. If you choose not to decide you still have made a choice. Don’t be indifferent. It doesn’t look good on you, baby…

And… Everyone is destroyed. Just. Like. That.

The victims. The kid. The psychiatrist. Their communities… The Batman. It’s ripples reverberate ever outward. All because no one acted to help the boy. Maybe they even helped push him over the edge? I dunno? I think someone, something did.

The sleep of reason produces monsters. Let us try to understand this boy, this tragedy as best we can. Try to heal it and each other. Lest we become the monsters we fear so ourselves.

We can do better than this. We must.

Sleepers just stop sleepin’

We’re burning daylight.


American Pie

In Dark, Don McLean, Life, Loss, Love, Music, Poetry, Very Bad Poetry on July 25, 2012 at 6:18 pm


The Day The Music Died

I believe in Rock ‘n Roll
Music saved my mortal soul
I can teach you how to dance
Real slow, baby, now’s my chance

Something touched me deep inside
What it is I just can’t hide
Searched the lost and found
But, I couldn’t find the sound

The men I had previously admired
Stole my Love inspired
She split with those three
She chose them, she left me

Helter Skelter
Summer swelter
The sky came down
Crushing the town

The girl who sang the blues
She had NO happy news
Children screamed
Lovers cried, poets dreamed

Nothing will ever replace
That stricken look on his face
The man down at the sacred store
When learned what I was grieving for

In deafening silence
The cruelest kind of penance
Saw all the pain at once magnified
On the day the music died…


Dark Magic, Frankenstein?

In Boris Karloff, Dark, Death, Fear, Frankenstein, Life, Magic, Poetry, The Universe, Very Bad Poetry on July 16, 2012 at 12:57 am


Who has put this dark magic on

Only despotic cowards would deign

The Universe could have unfolded as it should

Karma reigning her sway

They in their realm

Us in ours

Uneasy peace

Who are they to pull at its strings

Please, cease

I feel ill

Swirling sick

He could to be so beautiful

The Frankenstein creature

He couldn’t not be beautiful

Still, for that is what he is

The epitome, they profess

Cannot see it today

Just the hurt







Whirling Calliope

Am I

Is he




Frankenstein, the instrumental, brought to you exclusively by Winter…