Here are a few of my favorites. One, "The Monolith", which was written in homage to the late, horror author and cult mythos creator H.P. Lovecraft. The second is a perennial favorite of mine, which I share every Halloween, "The Vampire" by Lord Byron. http://hokusgrey.com/2015/04/20/the-monolith/ http://hokusgrey.com/2015/10/29/the-vampyre-lord-byron/ Have a safe and scary Halloween!
Tag: horror
Unspoken Knowledge
There are things that we know that we never speak aloud, like secrets, but secrets have words, and words can be spoken. Not feelings, because feelings can be unknown, formless and vagrant, and even when they are powerful, they are not knowledge. No, there are things we know about ourselves, about others, about … Continue reading Unspoken Knowledge
The Monolith
"Unto that barren patch of blasted heath I shambled, bruised and bleeding, numb to thought. Eyes stricken with the sight of what beneath forsaken heavens dying must bequeath to men who have with madness cast their lot." Source: The Monolith
Return of the Wicker Man
There are no more wicker men, no more straw. Fit to beg for the sweets, but the sugar's all raw. So far the rain has kept the fire at bay, so we have no sacrifice today. Old bones held up the old bell tower. Ashes to ashes, wheat into flour. Breaking the land broke … Continue reading Return of the Wicker Man
The Old Burn Barrel
Momma used to tell us daddy went away to a special place that we couldn’t see. Momma used to tell us never go play by the old burn barrel and the Hanging Tree. Daddy worked away back in ’33. Came home crying to my mom and me. Little sister was too young to remember … Continue reading The Old Burn Barrel
The Heart of Mystery
Mystery. It was embedded in her dark eyes, hinted at by her dress and though her lips parted at first only to smile, they whispered of it. I had no desire to solve her, like some detective in a cheap novel; no, she would not yield her secrets by way of clumsy persuasion. I … Continue reading The Heart of Mystery
The Dead Part
The city never sleeps, but it nods; drifting in a waking dream state. Colored by blinking traffic lights, neon hues lend a sickly pallor to the dream people who walk the streets. Night is inhabited by the yellow cab, their drivers more vampire than man and I am thankful that a half-inch thick sheet … Continue reading The Dead Part
Run
I've made peace with the end of the world. I've talked with the Man in the Sky. He told me, "Don't worry, I'm coming." so I'm waiting to watch Him walk by. He's coming home, gonna clean His castle by burning that bitch to the floor. When the land's been razed, all those little … Continue reading Run
Pt 1 – The Harrower of Souls
I have walked among darkening shadows, down windswept lanes resplendent in their late autumn fare. With night falling quickly, the bare trees that line the path reach out with spindle fingers, to quicken my step and hasten me on. Even though I profess a scientific mind, for no sum would I dare stop, in the … Continue reading Pt 1 – The Harrower of Souls
Night Terrors
The footsteps that wake you in the night, when you look, there is nothing there. When you finally reason away your fright and fall asleep, I will be standing there. As you sleep, I'll whisper in your ear, making sure that every word is clear. I make the dreams, the very ones you fear. … Continue reading Night Terrors
From Dark Before
I was born when the universe was dark. I was shaped when the Earth was cold. I was born by the mother of the void and the father of singularity. Birthed in silence before the light was spoked in to existence; I witnessed the first dividing line. I am the last of the everything. … Continue reading From Dark Before
When Midnight Came to Call
When Midnight came to call, we were asleep, dreaming gossamer promises on fat, puffy clouds of comfort. We were sedated. Full to our teeth with self aggrandized portions, helpings heaped with our satisfaction and swimming in a rich sauce of wanton disregard. Of course, we had not been shy with the wine of opulence … Continue reading When Midnight Came to Call
Hollow Dolls
Given to temptation, trouble and tragedy. Tangled in webs that we weave, intricately. Sin so sublime, there’s no time for apostasy. Claiming the name, we defame our own ancestry. Playing with life, like a cat with a bird in its mouth. Never so lost as we are when it’s all heading south. The … Continue reading Hollow Dolls
Atrocity
It was never easy, it was never quiet, the atrocity had merely moved on. It changed location, to a distance that must have seemed like it was gone, but it wasn't really gone. We mourned, we grieved, but then we resumed our lives and after a time, the memory of pain faded, as it does, … Continue reading Atrocity
Attempted Dream Escapes
Hey, hey, why are you scratching and clawing at the wall? There's no use in trying to escape. I wonder why you even care at all? Beyond this room there's only nervous shapes, that reach out of the shadows try to drag you to their sorrows; save your fears for the inevitable day they come … Continue reading Attempted Dream Escapes
Now I’m a Believer…
I never used to believe in Hell. Until all I could do was watch you, as you were laying on the floor, shedding tears, for days that would never be. I could see no wounds, but they were there; deep and ugly. Jagged tears in vital parts of you. All I could see … Continue reading Now I’m a Believer…
Deep Black
Deep, black. This chasm that divides us, though, if it were only one inch of division, it may as well be the distance to the Moon. I reach out, but my arms do not span the vastness of the gulf that separates us. I call out, but my voice is far too weak to … Continue reading Deep Black
Odd Bob
Bob was an odd boy He only played in the dark with shadows of things
Fire
Liar, liar, pants on fire, hair on fire, skin on fire, heaped upon their funeral pyre. Hope they got what they desired.
The Picture in The Hall
A picture of Stonehenge adorned the wall in a hallway of my friend's mother's house. It stood out amongst the family portraits, graduation photos and vacation shots along some sunny beach. It just hung there, inexplicable. A monolith, a mystery. She told us she had never been to England, though she was well-travelled, never had … Continue reading The Picture in The Hall