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Poetry




The Hick Poem by L Chapman I'm a Hick....this is my poem [288 words]
Waiting For My Guest by Mary Jo Javier - [115 words]
Visions From Hell And Others
Victims by Richard Koss A satirical poem that tells it like it is. The poem confronts a disturbing trend in our society - trans... [255 words]
Unspoken Sentiments by Mary Jo Javier An account about the pain of rejection. [189 words]
Twenty-Eight by Ashley Burdett I wrote this poem for my parents' 28th wedding anniversary which was a few weeks ago. I admire the... [114 words]
Time by L Chapman - [170 words]
Through Me by L Chapman - [70 words]
Those Beautiful Eyes by Jessica G. This poem isn't deep, and it's not quite about love, but it's one of those deep love poems... [74 words]
Stop Your Complaining by Michael Hunter This doesn't strike me as a particularly novel idea, still, after another day of listenin... [151 words]
Ophelia by Redell Turner - [58 words]
Lost And Found by Richard Koss A poem that was originally written as a lyric several years ago for a country western song. [156 words]
Looking Through Glass by Mary Jo Javier - [54 words]
Just The Two Of Us by Ranay Mueller It's about being with the one you really love and just being there for eachother is all that... [166 words]
Jkpayson by Olef Ransom Saulles - [53 words]
I'm Bored by L Chapman - [95 words]
I Had No Idea Misery Compounded by Olef Ransom Saulles - [161 words]
Father by Candace Apple - [20 words]
Douglas Cliche Part Two by Richard Lynch - [255 words]
Consolations After The War by Mary Jo Javier - [132 words]
Chaos Derangements Vol. 1 by Tony Seljuk An excerpt. These are 3 poems from my first collection of poems and stories. [1,048 words]
Chairs by Mary Jo Javier - [34 words]
A Poem About Obscene Language by L Chapman - [153 words]
The Muse by John Thomas Barragan My poem that breaks down my view towards women, that they are not just objects, but queens that roam t... [198 words]
The 30 Seconds Poet by L Chapman - [123 words]
Sleep by L Chapman Another stupid poem [220 words]
Rice Krispy Treat Squares by L Chapman - [48 words]
Please Read My Poem - Again by Richard Koss The inspiration for this poem came to me after reading several poems (good and bad)... [195 words]
Being by Olef Ransom Saulles Poem [124 words]
Another Time by Ann Chu a plaintiff desire for a break from life [65 words]
The Saga Of Douglas Cliche - Part One by Richard Lynch Part one of a series. [243 words]
The Better Man by Richard Koss A poem about a lonely, young, soldier wating for a train to take him back to base. He becomes e... [238 words]
Sonnet by Olef Ransom Saulles - [81 words]
Poem Thread by Olef Ransom Saulles - [110 words]
My Blood Spills Out. by Olef Ransom Saulles - [80 words]
Home To You by Teresa Little Ever drive through the night with that one person traipsing through your mind? Wanting to fly, wis... [139 words]
Happenstance At 79th And Broadway by Olef Ransom Saulles The Dublin House, NY. [154 words]
Darkness by Kishore Daswani It is a poem about being alone, and the feeling that nobody cares if you are dead or not. [113 words]
Daredevle by Olef Ransom Saulles 'they're' is intentional. I am striving for a three-dimensional quality to my writing. The rules of g... [595 words]
Americas Burning, Excerpt. by Olef Ransom Saulles From a longer, unfinished poem. [239 words]
The Sound Of Lovers by Adagio A look at the sadness of lonliness against the contrast of love [147 words]
The Hunger Cult by Martin Rutley Short poem about greed, immorality, and coporate murder in a dying world. [80 words]
The Cartoon Vandals by Martin Rutley The new religion? [66 words]

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TITLE (EDIT)
Visions From Hell And Others
DESCRIPTION
A collection of verse from the dark side: includes Bloodlust, Ripper, more.
[1,277 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Horror
AUTHOR
Steven K Mitchell
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Adirondack Mountains born and raised...44 yrs. old... avid athlete... created five interlocking, symbiotic criteria which eliminate the need for the CONCEPTS of nouns, verbs, etc., by maintaing clarity and freeing writers from sequencing constraints inherent in traditional grammar.
[September 2000]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (4)
Infinity Of Evil And Others (Poetry) More dark poetry. [741 words] [Horror]
Journey To Xzorath (Short Stories) A dark Shaman finds what he seeks... [1,739 words] [Horror]
Spacesuck (Short Stories) Avant-garde sci-fi. [3,206 words] [Science Fiction]
The Steel Circle (Short Stories) Combat unto death! [3,053 words] [Action]
Visions From Hell And Others
Steven K Mitchell

Visions From Hell
           
           In the corner
           sitting on my bed
           I feel the thread
           which binds me to this reality
           
           Become taut
           
           Soon
           this world
           will be far behind
           vaguely remembered in my mind
           
           The thread snaps
           
           And on my lap
           is a mucous green rat
           with the face
           of a cat
           
           As in a dream
           I throw the horror away
           but what next greets my eyes
           shall remain with me till my dying day
           
           Over there
           a tittering bat
           perched upon a human head
           
           Here beside me
           a monstrous dwarf
           fondling himself lewdly
           
           Smells assail me now
           
           First, the stench of brimstone
           now, decaying animals
           fish I think
           
           Much as I smelled along the shore
           before I was banished forevermore
           to this shadowy world of evil
           
           What is this world I have fallen into?
           
           Surely that child with the dull gray eyes
           cannot mean to pierce me
           with that dripping lance
           
           I think it best not to take that chance
           
           This corridor
           with it’s toxic smell
           and greenish light
           is the way to direct my flight
           
           These carven figures down this hall
           what sordid sights
           figures of the night
           and so lifelike
           
           A young girl
           decapitated
           
           Here an old man has defecated
           and eats it with a spoon
           
           I remember my room
           
           But that was long ago
           far away
           
           I must be insane
           
           As the sickening visions rain
           I feel no fear
           
           Can it be that in hell all feeling is lost?
           
            
           Then what the purpose?
           
           Here the corridor divides
           
           I must make up my mind
           which path is best?
           
           What a strange thought…
           which path is best in hell?
           
           Oh well, let’s take the left
           
           A short way down the hall
           I see crimson stairs
           
           Looking up them I meet the stare
           of a pair of lambent green eyes
           
           The light is uncertain
           yet I glimpse thighs
           
           Naked and female
           
           A delicate musk smell
           fills my nostrils
           
           Much as I smell when I visit the brothels
           of my nebulous memory life
           
           Perhaps she knows why I’m here?
           
           Up the stairs I step
           one by one
           till at the top
           I see a huge cave
             
           The light is more shadowy than before
           it first shows less and then shows more
           so I know not what is in store
           as I silently enter the cave
           
           Eyes red and staring
           burn holes in me
           the occasional bodies that I see
           are mottled, misshapen, deformed
           
           Sill, I feel no dread
           as if my spirit itself were wed
           to the darkness and evil
           
           Suddenly green eyes flicker
           and there she rests
           in a wicker chair
           
           Long black hair caresses her shoulders
           and through a scintillate creme robe
           her body shows
           
           Full and alluring
           
           For the first time
           I feel passion!
           
           Consumed by lust and not rational
           I boldly approach the girl
           
           The musk smell fills the air
           
           She rises from the wicker chair
           left arm beckoning
           
           Her smile is viciously evil
           and full lips cannot conceal
             
           Razor sharp incisors
           
           Do I dare venture closer?
           
           Does the moth flee the flame?
           
           I am filled with shame
           yet cannot resist
           
           So consumed with lust am I
           before I desist I would rather die
           
           Something I may have already done
           
           We fall together as one
           
           As full lips envelop mine
           marble hands search and find my scepter
           
           No I am no specter
           
           For these feelings of pleasure
           are no delusion
           
           On this glossed stone floor
           we reach the conclusion
           
           While the gibbering creatures
           come close as they dare
           
           And burn my back
           with their stares
           
           She whispers seductively for the first time
           and her words come out as a rhyme
           
           “Now you taste forbidden fruit
           you stab me with your lustful spear
             
           and evil has it’s first root
           as my master seeks to draw you near
           
           if one more time our bodies entwine
           before you can find the thread
           
           when you awaken you shall be mine
           and become his when you are dead!”
           
           For a fateful moment memory returns
           
           And though my lust burns brightly
           I know I must strive mightily
           
           To find the thread
           which snapped as I sat upon my bed
           
           I run back down the crimson stairs!
           
           Hearing obscene laughter I do not dare
           to look back for an instant!
           
           Now I’m in the long corridor
           and though my lust calls for more
           
           I realize my only hope is to run on
           while my mind can see
           
           What my world
           used to be
           
           The end of the hall is in my sight
           and there in the corner to my right
           
           Is the cat
           with the face of a rat
             
           My eyes strive to pierce the uncertain light
           for if I am to end my flight
           
           I must find the thread!
           
           There!
           Above the strange child that bears the lance
           
           That tiny string
           my only chance!
           
           I run to it and grab it
           while the child seeks to stab at my thigh!
           
           I sit alone
           upon my bed
           
           In my hand
           a silken thread
           
           What a dream I just had
           and I pray to god on high
           
           I soon let out a fearful scream
           for there upon my thigh
           
           Is a bloody rip
           as from the tip
           
           Of a lance which resides
           
           In hell!
           
           
           
       Bloodlust
           
           Night is liquid black
           seeping through cracks
           fueling inner fires
           
           where innocence burns
           in restless minds
           on forbidden, flaming pyres
           
           Flickering licking agony
           
           Strain of knowledge
           loss of light
           law and order lose the fight
           
           Closed door opens on scarlet possibility…
           
           
           
       Food
           
           Depression holds souls
           with blackened talons
           foreshadowing defeat and death
           
           Cynicism is the devil's tool
           encouraging us to see the fool
           in everyone, including ourselves
           
           The maggots of society
           lie unborn in you and me
           waiting for the chance to be free
           
           worming
           
           writhing
           
           feeding on our fears
           
           
           
       Moonvisions
       
       Amidst worlds
       without end
       
       over eons
       of human tragedy
       
       a cold orb has witnessed…
       
       scarlet juices
       offered endlessly
       
       in trackless jungles
       and timeless deserts
       
       by ghastly worshippers
       their flint knives
       
       dully arcing into
       human breasts
       
       Over eons
       of human tragedy
       
       amidst worlds
       without end
       
       the mystical moon bore mute witness…
       
       as flesh melted
       seared from the bones
       
       of oriental children
       women and men
       
       whose lives were
       obliterated
        
       in the mad
       magical mushroom
       
       so carelessly unleashed
       by heartless neophytes
       
       Amidst worlds
       without end
       
       over eons
       of human tragedy
       
       the forever spinning sphere
       now expectantly
       
       watches me…
       
       
       
       
       Ripper
       
       Stealthily sliding
       slime-like
       toward pulsing hearts
       silent steel blade
       in quivering hand…
       
       
       
       
       I See With Poe-Like Vision
       
       Death, decay, defeat, derision
    
       Sometimes
       I see
       Peace and hope and light
       
       But tonight
       
       I see with Poe-like vision
       
 

 

READER'S REVIEWS (6)
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"Yes, I think you tell it well. How many dreams seem so real that upon awakening, we feel such relief to know they were not. But it can be frightening to discover tangible evidence that some of what we drempt was indeed real. Like the man who drempt he swallowed a giant marshmallow and woke up to find his pillow gone. (kidding aside) You handle this genre as well as anyone I've read." -- Dick Koss.
"Dear Mr. Koss- Thank you for your kind review, and watch for multiple poetry chapbooks in disparite genres (erotic, inspirational, more)coming soon..." -- Steven K. Mitchell.
"I dunno, I thought the dreams were a little conceptualized. I really shouldn't be one to judge, I have no way of knowing what other people's dreams are like. But my nightmares are usually based a great deal in reality, which is what makes them so frightening. Maybe you read the Inferno the night before. well told though." -- Michael Hunter.
"Dear Mr. Hunter-Allow me to clarify that none of the poems were based on actual dreams." -- Steven K. Mitchell.
"this is the first poetry that i love since i got here. it's great.keep up the good work,steven. i've never had that such idea in my mind. :)" -- Andy Green , greenland.
"Thank you Andy. Please eme if you want more. Steve" -- Steven K Mitchell, USA.

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2000 Steven K Mitchell
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
September 2000
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2003
 

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