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Kalliope Amorphous
Teresa Conner
Onastasia Youssef
Eric Jobes
Bekah Farkas
Nicole Ellis
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Kalliope Amorphous
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The Looma weeping vein, like this a firemoves in flame through fractured dreams.a spider spins them threadbare at the seamsin the place where trembling breaths expire.by a blind birds loom composed of sight, the sobbing spirits rest.in crooked stance, their talons cracked and worn,they mend the filament and from their needle tongue is borna firmament of song; gold linen for the guest.wrapped fetal in the warp and weft,death’s roaming moan dissolves to gracein the tender bend of evenings drape.the heart of compassion is darkness and deft,a ghost on the mouth of eternity’s face,in a kiss parched with wailing, forever agape.Glassdancing face into the mirror,dancing shore into the sea,parison becomes a reverie,when driven by the wind,or a crack in embryo veneercalling the courtyard birds to heara molten hue drawn partiallyon lights fossil, skeletal and dimmedcold fusion inside a gold crucible mouthwhere blood chews time into a furnace,and casts decanters from a veins day;the glassblower has moved southwith his vases of temperance,his marver, eaten by his flameand here,and here again,his drunken fire with a facesews watersheds into rib cage latticewith needles of timehis hands cannot placefiling the most fragile of bonesto an immovable traceof white web thorax;regal snow dome for spiders,set around a heart treadingarchaic water and fetal ice;chameleon myocyteflashing frostbite and gracefrom the ventricle of Aletheia.Latitudethere is a space between the dreamwhere emptiness is sewn;cold fossils drawn up by a seamconnecting earth and bone.a ghost taps poems upon a rockto bake their valleys in the heatsmall veins of milk, packed thick with chalkcasting white shadows on a sheet.he mocks me by his flighttime is heavy; flesh is rockblood is a lock built in the nightand set inside a clock.from sanguine chambers banished,a wrist draws a line of impasseon the map of its own hand.like this a life will languish:a ghost inside an hourglasssuckling the bones of sand.- Kalliope Amorphous
Teresa Conner
Waking WolfWith hands to ground: sight sharpens, blood burns, heart hastens.With back to night: bones break, skin shreds, fur fashions.With fate, I yield:to become a hunter, to become the curse.Prey no longer:I howl and wake.- Teresa Conner
Onastasia Youssef
Of a Dead Man Crusting over you can hear it crack Bending near you see a broken back Easing in you spot the missing eyes Lying down he has you hypnotized Running around you trace his lumbar line Reaching in bones are smooth and fine Standing still he never even shakes Touching him you feel your insides break- Onastasia Youssef
Eric Jobes
The ShadowsBorn in shadow, raised in sinThey slither and they snakeThey make you squirm and shakeTheir night black eye's and Raven hairWith a gliding gait they walk on airSallow skin and shallow breathBe wary of them for they bring death!These Shadow men they raid and ravageThey can strike fear in the most feral savageTo summon them is a most black and frightful sinFor they have no inclination to begin only to End"Shadow men, Shadow men we cast thee out"That is what we must shoutAt increasing volume but even clarityTill the Shadow men become a rarityThough there is an easier wayYou must dismiss them before Morning's lightWhen they leave all is rightFor this is the end of a cold Samhain night.The ColdMarrow freezing cold and bone shattering windsSnow so cold it erases sinsIcy spears and frozen monolithsa testament to an omnipotent mightpray that you are in a warm place tonightPeople caught in this Devilish stormwill become statues upon the mornThe Waters of Coctyus descend upon the landGuided by a swift tempered God's handUpon the morn the storm is doneApollo races across the sky with the Chariot of the SunAll is calm and all is welluntil next winter when there is another descent into a frozen hell- Eric Jobes
Bekah Farkas
NecromancyRing the bells to wake the dead.They sleep in shallow graves,Waiting for the call to riseTo walk the earth againRing the bells to wake the deadThey're waiting for the soundTo bring them into life againWhere bodies can be foundRing the bells to wake the deadTo bind them to your willTo walk them where they should notYour purpose to fulfillRing the bells to wake the deadRing them loud and trueOr else the sounds raise not the deadBut come to swallow youRing the bells, put back the deadThey're time in life has pastTheir powers fade in bright sunlightTheir souls may rest at last.- Bekah Farkas
Nicole Ellis
GrotesqueAnd all I can hear are their screamsAnd all I can see are their gaping mouthsGleaming teeth bared in horrorAs they run cold fingertips down every vertebrae in my spineCaressing with hungry tongues every indent in my fleshAnd I shudder to feel so naked before themThey leave trails of ice on my stomachEmpty hands flutter like wounded birdsWeeping poison from soulless eyesThey beg me to tell my secretsThey long to feel full with my dreams They are but empty shells and they craveSomething to live forUrging me on with blood running down their throatsBrandishing claws like daggersWhispers of encouragement too saccharine to believe- Nicole Ellis
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