Posts Tagged ‘Emotive’

Through this glass,
Is it a window?
I see you,

Your countenance is clear as day,
Perhaps you see me too,
Trying to signal you,

Something keeps us apart,
A vacuum of memories,
And past actions,

This crystalline field between us,
A killing ground of intentions,
A reflective barrier,

Its surface is chilling to the touch,
It’s made up of our pasts,
Times we had gone by,

And fear of shattering it,
Terror of reigniting the flame,
And the pain,

We dare not fracture it,
So we longingly glance,
Across this glass mile.

Hello there inmates!

So, it’s been yet another long while since I made a post like this. Once in 2014 and once in 2017. Oh my word!

But I felt that with a whole “new year, new me” mentality, I would display some of my older works. I realise it can be a slight pain to explore the archives here at the asylum. So I felt I could display some of my favourites from my past poetry and dark fiction. I believe I’ve said it before but I do fear it’s somewhat self-indulgent, so apologies for that!

Poetry

The Master Thief – A slightly satirical look at capitalism.
The Stranger – A silly little poem about wandering at night.
I’m Not Atlas – A poem about not feeling strong enough.
Cannibal Heart – A dark poem about a cannibal, or perhaps a lover.
Video Games – Simply applying video games and puns to life.
A bloody legacy – Part 1 of a “trilogy” of sorts.
Festival Of Blood – Part 2.
Cerberus – Part 3.
The Painted Man – A story of a man shaped by society.

Fiction

Bob – The monster hunter Ryan Sargent talks about his ‘partner’.
Seeing through the lies – Ryan Sargent talks about a past experience.
The Asylum Mythos: The Hag-Man – A bizarre inmate speaks.
The Asylum Mythos: The Pint-Sized Cult – The Hag-Man tells a horrific story.

So there we go! Quite a variety there eh? I hope some of you find something you like among all of that mess. Every piece of writing I create is important to me, so I’d appreciate it immensely if you would let me know what you think.

I am currently hard at work on some new poems and scribblings. In fact, I do expect to have one done within the next day or so. Also, I’m attempting to begin a new project soon, related to serial killers and criminology, combined with supernatural elements. That was actually why I included the Ryan Sargent stories. It’s all related you know! Thank you all for your time my darling fellow inmates!

Have a very crazy day!

A friend once told me,
I may be eccentric,
A conflux of wasted potential,
A lunatic,
I’ll never get far this way,

I beg to differ,
I simply walk a wildly different path,
While your path holds domestic bliss and career goals,
Mine holds glamorous noise and dancing clowns,
A cane in my hand and a top hat atop,

You live your grey life,
Chastise me if you will,
I’ll still be jaunting,
I’ll still be grinning,
The crisp earth will welcome us both all the same.

The Land of the Free quakes,
Disaster looms above,
Or so it’s said,
Many believe it to be so,

Neighbours look sideways at one another,
Rights become targets,
For the firing squad that is corruption,
Few tears are shed,
Even fewer protests are uttered,

Division and hatred,
These weapons of mass destruction,
Maybe orchestrated by a court of white,
Filled with a rogues gallery,
In business suits and colourful badges,

Led by something of a jester,
With delusions of grandeur,
Possessing a nationalist baton,
And a dangerous red button,
Poking the bear and dragon,

The time has come,
A red mushroom cloud erupts,
In the shape of a pachyderm,
The Land of the Free is no more,
The world is ending.

Three lions weep,
An English rose wilts,
Saint George hangs his head low,

Have we lost our way?
A lethargic populace and uncaring elite,
A blight of bigotry,

England is drunk upon past glories,
Like wines taken from distant lands,
At sabre point,

Empire is dead,
We are the ashes,
Soon to be scattered,

Our brothers of the Hills,
The Lochs,
The Isles,
And across the sea,
All creeds and ways of life,
All forsaken,

We are part of this world,
We do not hold thrones above it,
Humanity is our real flag,
Hubris has painted a sorry picture,
Something akin to a red cross.

I often feel,
I’m surrounded by insects,
Moths specifically,

They flutter in office spaces,
Flitter sullenly about suburbs,
And drift carelessly along sidewalks,

They commune briefly,
Then fly on,
Towards their each own light,

We’re all moths you know,
We flutter about on frail wings,
Fragile aimless things,

We don’t even know we’re doing it,
We all have different wings,
Yet we all strive towards the same thing,

Towards a light,

At least we believe it’s the sun,
But as we draw closer,
The sun is peculiarly crypt-shaped.

Hello inmates.

I haven’t done one of these in a rather long time. Not since 2014! I’m not sure why, I suppose it simply never really came up. Maybe I haven’t been reminiscing as much recently. Anyway, I quite liked the idea of it before, So I’ve decided to make another with some of my older poems in it. It seemed apt with the new year looming in the horizon. Mayhap a little self-indulgent, but I don’t want my older poems to be forgotten. So, I would encourage any newer inmates to take a gander, You might see something you like!

The Clockwork Dragon – A tale of a frightening mechanical nightmare.
Internal Hydra – A poem, or perhaps an introspection, on humanity’s inner monster.
Red Stamp – An experimental poem about the horrors of fascism.
Night Sky – A poem about my adoration of the night.
Shotgun Romance – A twisted poem about love.
Sorcery – A poem about the magic of our own potential.
Beast of Eyes – A story of an otherworldly being.
Dirge of the Jester – One of my few forays into rhyme.

So there we have it. Just my personal picks from my archives. Every piece of writing I create is important to me, so I’d appreciate it immensely if you would let me know what you think. Here’s hoping that you won’t regret having a read.

On a side note, I hope you’ve been enjoying my more recent works! I’ve been getting back into the routine of writing daily, and I’ve been feeling so much better for it. Thanks to every one of you who takes the time to visit the asylum!

Until next time, have a very crazy day inmates!

Death is my lord,
I am his reaper,
And his scythe,
My blade is his,
I am the Manhunter,

This long coat hides a herald of death,
He pays in cold coin,
And I pay in cold dead eyes,
Those whose time has come,
Those whom have his icy hand upon their shoulder,

My life was already taken,
Eons ago,
A bloody wedding gown and an empty crib,
Death made a joke that day,
I couldn’t help but chuckle,

I am the Manhunter,
Nothing personal,
Just business,
The cycle of life,
Even monsters must eat,

Do you feel his gelid breath?

Welcome to my home stranger,
Wipe your coats and hang up your shoes,
Make yourself at home please,
It is my fortress,
My sanctum,
My workshop,

Within its walls lies wonder,
And a hint of madness,
Here manifests my literary alchemy,
My lyrical experimentation,
It is a realm of perpetual loneliness,
But also true clarity,

I write every colour under the sun,
Angels in freefall playing violins,
Ballet with stars,
Dragons saving damsels,
Ghosts in pitched food-fights,
And heroes with villainous grins,

Stories and sonnets,
Poems and poesy,
This playground has all of these,
And so much more,
This is my castle,
This is my fortress,

Safe from the siege of outside rationality,
Safe from the slings and arrows of the world,
Safe from sanity.

There’s trouble ahead,
There’s hellfire on the horizon,
The drumbeat continues,
Humanity marches unabated,
Craters and mushroom clouds ahead,

Out of tune,
Ragged drums and dilapidated regalia,
Painted-on smiles,
Out of step,
Unwashed humanity parading ever onward,

Cracked lips and grazed knees,
The drumbeat continues,
Complaining of weary eyes,
Insanity personified,
Driven on regardless by the beat of life,

The state of this world,
The state of this procession,
Mired in misery and dissention,
Enough for a thousand dirges,
There’s trouble ahead,

The drumbeat continues.