#ominous poem

[nenoname]

still love how the book starts out with stan beating up the statue and taking ford's discarded one dollar bills and then ends with stan completely destroying bill and ripping up money just to spite him

[sajanrai]

I flee when I see / Metal Man has been reformed / as the desert priest

[hersurvival]

The clouds have formed a blanket

And the winds have made their debut,

It is unnaturally warm tonight, though -

Warmer in this late-night dusk

Than it was at high noon

Dried leaves crinkle as they blow,

Recently uncovered

From the melting ice and snow

The window is wide open

But the only sound is gusts and rustles,

No birds, no dogs, no passing vehicles

Something is about to begin

Or maybe it is about to end

But something,

Something is definitely going to happen

[theloveandhorrorhere]

Our Good Friend, Mothman

Omen of the air

They call him harbinger of fate, of destruction

"Stare too long into those red, red eyes," they say, "and see beyond time itself... if only you dare."

By nature or science, by Earth or space, we know not where he comes from

Be he bird or moth or man, we dare not ask

For fear of his wrath, his haunting roar,

As he perches atop the doomed Bridge

And considers its fate.

In Point Pleasant, he makes his home, his haunt for now,

But where will he go when it's all over,

When the deeds of fate are fulfilled and there is nothing more to warn against

Here in this sleepy town,

Will he return to his forever home or is it simply onto the next disaster?

He is hunted, sought after, his visions demanded by men with suits of deepest black,

But he is more elusive still than these pretenders of flesh;

He flies away into the dark, becoming one with stars and shadow,

You'll never see him unless he wants to be seen.

[imminent-danger-came]

"Do not ask how the oceans blue, or why the tides their time do keep. To love, is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep."

[audliminal]

Feeling the earliest symptom of your coming period like watching a storm gather out over the open ocean

[cobwebbed-crow]

Girl Of All Things

The girl hasn’t moved for a long time. She stares at the cave walls, watching as the fire from outside creates shadows on the gritty stone.

When she waits for long enough, the shadows begin to speak. They start by whispering into her ears. They confess small, intimate things, things she must not tell anybody else.

Eventually, the shadows work up the courage to speak with a full voice.

“We love you,” they say “do you promise to hold your silence?”

She nods. Of course. It goes without saying. The shadows love her.

The shadows turn away. They coalesce into a large, dark orb. They speak amongst themselves in a language she couldn’t hope to comprehend. Tears prick at the girl's eyes eyes but the frozen winter air prevents them from falling. What she wouldn’t do to be a part of that beautiful singularity. Maybe one day, she tells herself.

The shadows return to their original scattered form.

“We’re going to reveal our wisdom to you. Do not be afraid.”

The girl touches the wall, where the shadows live. It feels smooth, smooth and warm. Much different from how it looks. She can feel it with her hands and see it with her eyes. It’s but an infinitesimal piece of the wisdom that the shadows hold.

"Share your knowledge with me.” She begs, “I will not be afraid.”

“Good.” The shadows smile, “You should know that you are destined for holiness. You are composed of the many things all living inside of you. Stay here and we will teach you how to divide yourself. Then, you will become a part of everything else. You will become the carbon in the earth and the helium in the stars. Your phosphorus will fertilize someone's garden.”

The girl’s eyes grow wide “That sounds beautiful.”

“It will be.”

The girl begins to peel away the layers of clothes that suffocate her. It is becoming very warm inside this little cave. The girl uses her coat as a pillow and her tee-shirt as a bedsheet. This cave will be the bedroom where the girl can finally rest her tired limbs. Yes. She will sleep here. When she awakes she will be one with the earth at last.

[gothiclit]

setting new records every day for how quickly it takes me to burst into tears when i open a uni site

[sneef-to-a-snorf-fight]

this time we made it to the water

[longeyelashedtragedy]

We tramped through the empty house, which had the comforting smell of lace and vintage furniture, and burst through the front door, discarding my suitcase by the stairs.  The smell of ocean and rain, salt and palm fronds hit me full in the face, and I sensed a raging power close by, the kind of unbridled force that only the ocean could ever have.  He pulled on his navy blue sweatshirt and we sat on the porch step.  He buried his head in my nest of curly hair. “Okay, so tell me about everything,” I said.  “Well, see that blinking light over there?” “Mmhmm?” “That’s Balboa Pier.  We’re going to go there tomorrow.  We’ll go to Ruby’s, we can sit outside.” “What’s Ruby’s?” “Oh, it’s a diner.  Their ice cream and milkshakes are awesome.  All right, so there’s the road we were on earlier…” My mind began to wander and I looked up at the sky, where Cassiopeia’s W was lit up by something more supernatural than neon.  I was used to watching my own eastern seaboard constellations: office building windows lit up with people working late, taxicabs blurring by like yellow streaks in the orange night.  Out there on the western edge of our country, despite the natural light from the sky, I saw dark.  Dark roaring beaches where I would climb rocks in my black boots, the dark hulking shapes of piers where we would eat ice cream and milkshakes, the darkness out in the distance that stretched all the way to Australia, Japan, Indonesia.  Dark where we had been.  Dark where tomorrow we would drive willingly.  The light from the house was nothing but a fuzz, a yellow flicker behind me.  I thought again of his hand reaching out to take away that one hour, and for the second time that evening, I felt something like fear. 

[neosatsuma]

you know that post that goes, "I am fast and full of teeth. I will die in a barn fire"? That post is like a lover to me. I am its biggest fan. I say it to myself all the time like a daily affirmation

[basic204]

One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret,

Never to be told

Eight for a tail that the stars have spun

Nines for a gate that can't be undone

Ten for River of forgotten more

Eleven for a key to the spectral door

Twelve for a mirror that reflects the night

Thirteen for a beast that lives in spite

Fourteen for a realm that none can reach

Fifteen for a speech no tongue can teach

Sixteen for a dream trapped in stone

Seventeen for the old gods hollow moan

Eighteen for the abyss that gazes back

Nineteen for the formulas cosmic Black

Twenty for magpies final verse in a universe where shadows converse

The end of the rhyme the start of the dread when not a single word is said

[sajanrai]

fifth shell boiling red / the locust clock never lies: / next year will be worse

[litany-writes]

consume (ii): the owl in the attic interrupts your weekend

[scorpioandthefrog]

Say! I like green eggs and ham!

I do! I like them, Sam-I-Am!

And I would eat them in a boat

And I would eat them with a goat

And I will eat them in the park

Beneath the most foreboding lark

And I do eat them in the wood

Where no one ever ever should

Now comes the leafling’s haunting call

Summer, winter, spring, and fall

Too late as spindly fingers claw

Good neighbors here now, bare and raw

I run and run and run my legs

Are screaming and my eyes they beg

Safe haven now I’m here at home

No will o wisp no wand’ring gnome

I find for me this ham of green

And eggs devoid of fey so mean

I like to eat them in the yard :)

I like to eat without The Bard

I like to eat them in the den

Oh no they’ve followed me here and then

In fey grin and eyes sparkling

It seems my world is darkening

Heed my warning, heed it good

Do not eat green eggs in the wood

[chaselebardpoetry]

11/27/2022

Never returning from within the city. Never forgetting to forget the forgotten. Making sense out of the senseless, winding words into webs. Trying to top the times, but l can’t quite figure it out. November 27, 2022