Dark

incey wincey spider

 

Incey Wincey Spider

By jfarrell

 

Incey Wincey Spider, climbed up the water spout;

And when you fell a sleep; he got his stinger out;

And when you woke the house, in fear and alarm;

Incey Wincey uncle says… “I wasn’t doing any harm.”

 

Twinkle, twinkle, little star;

My younger sister, I wonder how you are;

So many years, we’ve been apart;

Like a lead-weight in my heart;

Twinkle, twinkle, little star;

My younger sister, I wonder how you are.

 

Three blind mice, a coward dad

See how they run, see how he drinks;

He beats his wife because she cheats;

He beats his kids because he’s weak;

He blames the drink, but it’s his fists that speaks;

Three blind mice.

 

Ring-a-ring a roses is about mass death, disease;

Baa baa black sheep is about taxes;

All nursery rhymes come from somewhere ‘orrible;

Somewhere far darker.

 

Just a thought…

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

the story behind nursery rhymes is remarkable, don't think there's any horror story behind twinkle ttwinkle little star, but bba bbaa black sheep was about taxes, and cant remember if it was the plague, or turculosis for ring a ring a roses, hehe

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

Seirenes

Folder: 
Tales and Fables
They say that love is an action
Not a feeling
Then why did I feel that way
Like spiraling down Charybdis 
To the sound of your siren song
 
Your haunting melody embraced my mind
Teasing me, clutching my heart
Until I could do no more than listen
The pain in your voice evident
The struggle against your very nature
 
How I wish that I could have saved you
That I had borne you far away
But you knew my thoughts
You sensed my intentions
And saved me instead 
From the surf of your tsunami
 
So now I sit alone on the sand
And perhaps my greatest torture 
Is standing on the shore of your pain 
And crying out to the oceans that separate us 
To receive nothing but silence in return.

Immortality

Folder: 
Light and Dark

Sometimes I hear the ghosts of my past

Often they whisper in my ear

Just out of consciousness

Barely audible, but present

 

Memories of those gone by

Now immortal in my mind

Forever they'll exist in me

Or at least as long as I live

 

For we are scars on the membrane of time

Carving our existence deep into it's flesh

Dying to gain immortality

Our existence tantamount to the memories of others

 

 

View seraphim's Full Portfolio

It

It

By jfarrell

 

(stephen King’s ‘IT’ - one of the best books ever written)

 

It doesn’t go bump in the night, and you know it;

And you know it isn’t under your bed or in the closet;

 

You can smell it’s foulness right behind you;

You feel it’s breath on the back of your neck

 

The hand slides over your shoulder, like a caress;

Then grips you, like a vice

 

You stumble to your knees, in terror

And see the darkest shadow tower over and engulf you

 

Caught; no escape

“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.”

 

 

 

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

Welcome to the Dark

Welcome to the Dark

By jfarrell

 

Roll up! Roll up!

Right here;

Is this seat comfortable enough?

Please keep your arms, legs and head in the car.

Are you ready? …. twinkling, charming, innocent smile

…... (whispered) Let’s go!

 

….(with a hushed, suppressed excitement)

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me thank you for choosing Jim’s Tours,

My name is Jim and I am your tour guide tonight.

But, enough about me, you’re here for Dark;

Hope you’re not screamish :)

 

On your left, police tape, long dead baby in the attic;

Look right, rapist uncle, lying dead with his throat cut;

Left, just under the bridge, a terrible ghost

This is where my mum should be hanging;

But she’s not dead. Yet.

 

…..tour guide collapses, but quickly staggers up, uncertain;

Oh my; wot horror; right next door;

His neighbours, 8 christian souls, innocent and pure;

All with their throats cut and drowned in petrol;

But, not burnt. Yet.

 

Please DON’T be sick in the car; over the edge please;

Are you sure you want to see THE bedsit? Where it happened?

No, you’re not a sicko - you’re here for the…

Waking middle of the night with a lit cigarette

So close to your eye it stings with the heat.

 

It’s your turn tonight, in the children’s home, with this wacko;

He’s bored; so, tonight, it’s your turn to burn, again and again;

Arms; legs; chest;

Tell who? My keyworker who is trying to groom me for abuse?

The pornography he’s giving me, suggests he wants more then ‘friends’.

 

Or, the park behind the library, that summer;

That one day, school holiday;

Playing hide and seek with friends

And seeing what happened to that poor woman.

The punches. The kicking.

 

…. tour guide takes out walkie talkie;

It’s Jim, get the wake up and cleaning crew again, please

This place stinks of sick

And my tourists have passed out;

Again.

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'll see you on the dark side of the moon

View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

Fey

Folder: 
Tales and Fables

The heart within me turned to stone

Like a wolf pack's lonesome cries

Darkness woven in my bones

But starlight fading in my eyes

I hear the whispers in the trees

A wisp's song fluttering on the breeze

But ne'er will I go home again

Ne'er will I go

 

I heard the call of maiden fair

But swore again I'd go not there

My lonesome crying in the night

Has formed me as a sullen wight

Oh cursed fairy! How could you lead

A child to such an awful deed

For ne'er can I return again

Ne'er to return

 

Alone at last, my will is done

Now, forever this must be

Before my mind be overrun

To hurt no more, my final plea

My past is lost, the future nigh

My story dead on sands of time

To home I must return again

Again I must turn home

View seraphim's Full Portfolio

Scars

If life was like a letter

And reality a dream

If love was somewhat better

Alive but less extreme

 

If the past was dead and rotten

And Death was just a door,

Then I could bear your loving scars

For now and evermore

View seraphim's Full Portfolio

My Masterpiece

Folder: 
Stages of Change

I found him small

    when he was happy

        and oh so innocent

 

When at night I could see him,

     he would close his eyes

         and wished he was normal

             like everyone else

 

So he began calling out

     and there I was 

          guiding him to his normalization.

 

I wrapped real tight

      he had trouble speaking

         so he had no choice

              but hear my whispering voice

 

I got his arms so he could stop

       stop fighting and let me consume him.

 

When one night he did.

       Now look at him,

           My Masterpiece

 

He was different, and now he is like everyone else

You can't tell from which is which.

Which stone is his?

 

      

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Not my greatest but sure is the newest. I made it in the perspective of the "devil" or the inner demons that whisper and whisper until you can't take it anymore.

 

Let me Know if you have any questions.

View ajohnsmithstory's Full Portfolio

Figment of my Imagination

Figment of my Imagination

By JFarrell

 

I am just a figment of your imagination

I don’t exist

The grumbling of a piece of cheese

Eaten too late at night

 

A shadow stirred by a

Tap-tap-tapping on your door

Memories awakened by

A howling on the wind

 

The breath on your neck

Of “Spring-Heeled” Jack

The knife at your throat

In Whitechapel

 

A ghost, a wisp

A vivid dream

Already forgotten

As you wake

 

The flea bites me

Then bites the arm of God

And I am nothing, forever

Just a figment, an echo

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'm i my imagination or yours?