Posted tagged ‘Gothic Poetry’

The Flood

May 27, 2013

Blowing your own trumpet can be discordant. However, yet again, I’m getting fed up with this, too much of anything is bad for you, why does it have to be me? Why oh why oh why? this website has won an award. Here we go again. I know, tell me about it. Award-winning Everyday Gothic Horror Stories. Yawn. Details can be found on this orange line here.

It was raining cats and dogs and frogs and
Fearing the flood would not abate I built
A boat; And two by two my zoo took shape

Caterpillars shared room with centipedes
But man, I kept the spiders from the flies
No tigers about so no life of Pi
Gathering my flock I prepared to sail
Then the heavens closed to bring sunshine
Thank God for that as I am no Noah
The animals are all female, probably
And it would be the end of humanity


The Bench

August 2, 2010

The squirrel descends the bark
So effortlessly
It hops along the verge with a grace
Evolved in centuries
And I’m watching it, studying it
But I’m also watching the time

There’s a jogger mp3′ing along
Tizz titi tizz tizz
I’m trying to work out the song
Titi tizz titi tizz
And as I’m thinking, thinking
I’m also thinking about the time

An elderly couple strolls by
Hand in hand
I wonder when they first became
Woman and man
This aged Adam and Eve
Walking beside dead leaves
And as they wander, I wonder
I wonder what time it is.

This bench will have many memories
Stored in its wood
It will be privy to many secrets
Not all of them good
Will it keep mine, keep mine
As I sit and lose track of time

She’s not coming now, I fear
She’s failed to leave the house
It’s hard for her to keep our rendezvous
When she’s someone else’s spouse
So I sit and wait, sit and wait
And fritter away the time

Wooden Heart

May 27, 2010


We are the wooden men
We are the stacked men
Bundled together
Headpiece filled with splinters. Alas!
Our dried pallet cracks in the heat
Giving grief as Rat’s feet
With a skelf
Paralyzed, yelp for help

Those who have passed
With broken wood, to purgatory or side of the road
Remember us
As the wooden men
The stacked men


Every day a new voyage
Of discovery
Passing through the wasteland
More caressing acquaintances than Warren Beatty
Fondle us daily on our delivery
Tracy Emin would run out of graffiti

In our warehouses
We crate together
Slaves on a galley
Never knowing where to next

The beast with forked tongs appears
Darth Hideous!
Transported without a goodbye
To another ship, another load, another day


The sealing contraceptive wrapping
Engulfs us
Warping our frame
Suffocating us
From our four corners, we’re tied
A Gulliver on Lilliput
We play possum the cat
Every journey could be the last
Passing away of stacked men

In dreams of death
We see a broken slat
On a funeral pyre with flames high
And a boy shouts
“Penny for the guy”
We remember
Our violent chainsaw birth
Born with a timber
End with an ember


On an abandoned road beside a pond
Not hitch-hiking
A man picked me up with great hands of brawn
It was a carpenter who was able
Turned the ugly duckling into a swan
I breathe anew as a bedside table

The Eels in the Loft

January 10, 2010

Craving for sleep to spirit you away

For you’re awake with a room gone insane

The clock ticks, ticks on and the wind runs down

The chimney; and it blows open your window

And it lets in somebody.

                                      Afraid under

The sheets you squirm. The sheets cover and crawl

All over you, a mighty planarian worm

You look for respite -escape- the ceiling

Then you remember the eels in the loft

The beating of your heartbeat beats thunder

Below the bed, coiled springs vibrate

A shuffling sound. There’s someone un-der- you

Afraid to stand on the floor in case you

Feel a living carpet. Entombed eyes

Can see scary creatures inside the room

Breathing. Unaware your feet have fallen

Outside the bedclothes. Its gone cold as a

Slimy hand touches your toes.

                                                You explode

Explode into the night. The dark has torn

Your brittle mind apart; Insanity looms