poetry

Ivor Steven: Pumpkin Soup Again

April 30, 2018 // 7 Comments

    Head’s falling like an unpinned grenade. Soon ready to explode. Burying shrapnel pieces in corners of shade. Scattered like broken retina globes. Razor blades shredding memory lockets. Slivered icicles inside blurry sockets. Needles of pain. Sheets of sleet before the rain. Bloodied [Click Here & Be Scared!]

Dr. Agonson: The Undying Heart

February 14, 2018 // 10 Comments

  I swear never my heart to give again, but locked away, letting it rest awhile out of the air—a shoebox burial— keeping its memory, so to forget the unfulfilled future. It still won’t die. I hear its thumping underground, beneath the wet soft earth it pounds and pounds. It will not go [Click Here & Be Scared!]

Walt Page: The Demons of Darkness

December 11, 2017 // 19 Comments

A glint of light shot skyward And summoned the creatures of the dark One by one their howls filled the night Their dance of the darkness had begun All of your phobias, your childhood fears Surrounded you, taunted you, haunted you You trembled and gasped as you felt something touch you A cold, slimy [Click Here & Be Scared!]

Ivor Steven: Smashed Pumpkin Brains

October 16, 2017 // 18 Comments

  What’s it like to be an orange Pumpkin-head Only black sockets for eyes instead. And a cut-out smile full of seeds. Queer ears made of rings and beads. Inside, your brain is scooped out for pigs feed Leaving a dark void that doesn’t bleed. On top you’re like a crinkled dome. And your [Click Here & Be Scared!]