In the dusk of Autumn,
October thirty-first
you will see a lot ghosts,
and monsters at their worst.

They will rampage up the street,
across your pristine grass,
Dressed as super-heroes
Capes dragging past their ass.

"Trick or Treat, you little *****
here, have some candy-corn,"
He faces up to them,
with a manner born of scorn.

"I know your parents, Little Timmy,
that mask, it don't fool me,"
And you're that hulking Sonny,
Trick or treat at twenty-three!

Slowly it began to turn
a ball of madness,
sanity on the burn.

Violence on every page
perversions wage
to great outrage.

Humanity on the edge
open windows,
mounting the ledge.

Plunge into fiery hell
as demons gasp
the sounding bell.

From scripture they'd been told
would redeem them from
Hell's fire bold.

Where was this bright shining lord,
the one the fanatics
all truly adored?

Now nowhere in sight
on the precipice
of their darkest night.

Can you feel the grey
surrounding you!
You've got
to be medicated
to win this game!
Everyday, always the same
you sit on your ass and watch TV
Waiting for someone
to talk to
People who can't
possibly understand,
but it's Okay
it has to be.
Just send me downstream
past the rocks and debris.
I'll find a lush lagoon
to rest the goodness
inside of me.
Falling into pools
of cascading waterfalls.
Where confrontation

Moon high; middle of the night.
Drums thumping; bumping in hypnotic flight.
Cloaked hoods fall to the ground,
scattered chants mix with the eerie sound.

Candle wax burns at the fingertips;
Hecate's breath embraces swaying hips.
Shadows dance amongst the flames,
linking spirits to our world without shame.

'Tis our season, witches take hold,
The magic runs hot and bold.
Our veil is thinning, hear the roar of the thunder,
when the living and the dead are no longer asunder.

Mold is an inconspicuous bully
Decomposes reds, yellows, oranges
Blues, and even lime greens
Does not matter its outer shape
Covets the wetness deep inside
Feeds and declares dominance
Nest and festers, spreads
Like vermin and vectors
Permeates and inhibits
Its host hold on to structure
While degrading its bonds
In order to have its way with
Just about any old living thing
A temperamental nuisance
But it’s grotesque mold juice
caught the eye of Dr. Fleming
Its usefulness is no other

Bullies are everywhere
Under our noses, among our friends
Live to scare, hurt and attack
Learned at an early stage of life
Yearning always to be number one!

Im shaving my head to a skinhead my
Eyes are hemorrhaging red with hatred
I wish everyone was dead, vomiting blood

and spilling out a pile of guts and crimson lines
of dripping throats

My fist crunches against the mirror shards fly like
spears, like my life I can't fix back together

I snap out of my deep thoughts and take my
head out of my desk, as the school
bell vibrates my heavy restless chest . I walk pass
shapes of crowded

Violent silhouettes
on the horizon.
Staring through time
exposed to their lies.

Pagers and cell phones
exploding at random.
Warfare is rampant
were’re just running blind!

Arrogant Jihad’s
romancing their weaponry.
Crawling through tunnels
that no one can find.

Whispering threats
through a network of chaos.
Reposing in caverns
and biding their time.

Remember when goodness
was more than an attitude.
Something that dwelt
at the heart of mankind.

Bloodied and dying the end of his days,
He lie on the field life slipping away;
Spread all around his dead gallant knights
Lay with their foes who had been put to flight.

The cost was high so many dead,
He surveys the field from his own deathbed
Slaughtered they lay friend and foe alike
Dismembered and hacked in autumns sunlight.

The old miner, who’d been in the back hills
for some time, hailed our small camp.
Best to announce yourself when you’re in gold country.
Firearms, gold, the dark and surprises are a risky mix there.

His friendly manner, great stories and good humor
put us at ease, earning him an offer of a spot for the night
to sleep away the whisky we kept pouring.

With first light the next morning
we discovered the old man was gone,
along with a small amount of our food.
The fare for his company, we supposed.