Spooky Door ~ #CoffinHop

 

P1150073 crop signed

 

There is someone outside the door.
Through the glass I see him pace.
The haunting dream I want no more.

His threats are harsh, “Open the door!
Or you shall know the worst disgrace!”
There is someone outside the door.

Are the threats real, or is he just a bore?
Quick, the door I’ll bolt. Just in case.
The haunting dream I want no more.

It won’t shut! I can’t bolt the blasted door!
He’ll get us now, I know. No hiding place.
There is someone outside the door!

The door remains ajar. We’re done for!
For us there is no breathing space.
The haunting dream I want no more.

At times, the wartime blood and gore
my sleep envelops in a black embrace.
There is someone outside the door.
The haunting dream I want no more.

*

Copyright © 2014 Irina Dimitric

*

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Monsters #CoffinHop

I still get chills in the dead of night
I still get scared of the dark, sometimes
You promised that you’d hold me tight
To keep me safe from monsters

Monsters that roam the streets
And are more men than myth
The ones that hold my mind under siege
Make me toss and turn – Hide under sheets

Your sheets were safe, or so it seemed
Bully for you, making me a fool
I never would’ve guessed they’d be your mask
And you’d be the greatest monster of all

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NEW LEGEND of Arco and Venus Water-lily By Richard Lynn Livesay #CoffinHop

hadesandpersephone

I wasn’t sure. It was so long ago.
Was it the lightning storm or
The vivid dream that woke me?

Hours I paced around my room.
The dark shadows seemed to move,
Moonlight drifted through the window

The dream, a summons from the Council
“You must go on a dangerous mission
To save a maiden from Count Villus”.

Dad told me, “Someday the Council will call”
We were not a “normal” family. My dad,
Samilus, was part of the Nephilim, he

Had mated with my mortal Mother, I-Ann,
I am Arcos Demeter, part angel, part mortal
With metaphysical powers and compassion.

I arrived at the Count Villus’ mansion at sunset.
It was a dilapidated, three storied, dark structure with vines and mold.
As I walked to the door, I noticed a girl in the garden.

I knocked and the Count, a creepy, beady eyed old man, answered.
I told the Count that I was a bookkeeper looking for work
And would work for room and board.

Villus, invited me inside and showed me to my room.
It was musty with spider webs everywhere…and bats!
We passed two very large doors bolted shut.

Villus said, ”The doors lead to my dungeon where
Once a month, I entertain some of my friends.
You and my gardener should never enter these doors”.

I settled in and later met, Venus Water-lily, maiden-gardener.
We lived in separate rooms in a third story tower
And would meet and talk for hours after our work.

I explained to Lily why I was there and who I was.
Meanwhile I fashioned a peep-hole to the dungeon
And used it to spy on Villus’s depraved meetings

I watched sick rituals involving drinking blood from bowls,
Small animal mutilations, sex orgies and torture
As Villus and his clan walked around in black hoods

One night, hearing the eerie incantations of the group,
I opened my spy-hole and was frozen in time.
There on a dungeon table, lay the nude body of Lily.

Suddenly I became “other-worldly” and filled with energy.
My body swelled, my mind intensified, my mission had arrived.
I became a wave of particles and teleported to the locked door.

I walked straight through, the chanting stopped as black hoods turned.
Some raised their knives as Count Villus came forward. He said,
“Boy, come in and meet our Master, Beelzebub and watch the sacrifice”.

My energy exploded inside and sent a gale-force wind thru the room.
I spat on the floor causing a flash of lightening and from the smoke
Appeared a snorting, beautiful, solid white, winged stallion.

Mounting the stallion, I withdrew a magical, flaming sword from the scabbard.
As we advanced, all that tried to harm me, lost their heads.
Villus was the only one left; he stood with a knife to Lily’s throat

She whimpered softly but then remembered what Arco had taught her.
Lily breathed in and envisioned her skin as a body of armor.
Her body stiffened as she looked at Arco saying, “I’m covered”.

Arco advanced as Villus stabbed but couldn’t penetrate.
Arco reached down grabbing Villus by the throat, lifting him up.
They slowly walked to the wall where the hand of Villus was pinned.

Then the other hand pinned as Villus screamed obscenities,writhing in spasms.
Arco untied lily, wrapped her in a sheet and held her in front of him.
Looking at her with overwhelming love, he asked, “Will you marry me?”

“O, Yes”! She said as a force surrounded them and they flew through the walls
Into a beautiful starry night, transporting them on a wave of moonbeams.

(The Council smiled, then granted them stewardship of a Pleiades planet
Where they lived, raising a family in love, peace and joy)

#CoffinHop – Wild Hunt Duo

Copper Moon

 

Night of the Hunter’s Moon

 

They come by the moonlight

off the mountain, from the mist,

riding in the darkened night.

They come by the moonlight,

for their eve of haunting flight.

Hear the horn, by Death be kissed

They come by the moonlight

off the mountain from the mist

 

Sunset Ride

 

When the sunset sweeps that painted sky

and muted twilight steals across the earth,

He smiles…

When the crickets chirp, and the owls hoot,

when trembling mortals speak their prayers,

He rides…

 

Inside the storm, through the howling wind,

and the souls of a thousand dead, following.

Upon the wild, dark horse with scarlet eyes

he reigns the night, and brings the Wild Hunt.

Fear the horn, shrink from the echo of hoof beats

Flee his forever path, scorched and burning.





© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



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The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

Purification by Ash Krafton #CoffinHop

Purification

by Ash Krafton

 

It was the most beautiful of snow falls–

serenity fell in a hush

thick flakes shushing onto branch and bush

to lie undisturbed, spreading a sweet clean shroud over the still outpost

and the silence was a prayer that smogged out in a thick layer.

 

Even the wilds were subdued and still–

no bird nor forest-dweller broke the smoky, breathless twilight

or the cold bright morning that followed

when all that remained of the extermination

was the heart-aching beauty of crystalline stillness.

Cobalt shadows and fiery sunrise played upon the uneven field of white

gentle shades echoing the intense blazes that had long burned out.

 

If a single survivor remained to witness this singular scene

surely he’d have sworn upon his life

that the village had been touched by God’s hand,

littered with angels’ down, a wintery blessing

But the spoilers are gone, the outpost departed.

Silence lies undisturbed, a town denied sound

by the advent of untimely season’s end.


 

When Spring comes–if Spring comes–

the snow will melt, a quiet memory

revealing the men now dead and gone.

Dragons had cleansed the land.

Ruin of body and town

char and blood and terror and grief

extinguished, interred,

wintered

and gone.

 

 

I wasn’t kidding when I invited you to hop with us.

https://kintsugiart.wordpress.com/2014/10/24/coffinhop-is-live-dance-at-the-terrible-myths-legends-death-masquerade-ball/

Dark Justice… #CoffinHop a terza rima by Richard Lynn Livesay

haunting woman

my mind churned like ocean waves
voices vibrated a whispering chord
transmitting thoughts of illusory graves

the wind blew like a lion that roared
the window rattled: I grew uneasy
in the tree outside, a shadow soared

it looked like my murdered wife, Gigi
but I had dumped her body in a shoal
I began to sweat my head felt queasy

her shadow was haunting my very soul
the window crashed open with a fury
papers flew in the air and I lost control

a note in blood on the wall read, “JURY”
I reached for the gun from my drawer
Fired at the shadow; everything became blurry

I fell to the floor. Its all over, I’m done for
Put the gun to my temple and evened the score

#CoffinHop – Night of the Sidhe

Moon Clouds

 

Night of the Sidhe

 

The sun falls low, behind the hills

as the gloaming casts the land

in shadow and in fading light

and the wind blows over the water.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

They come to dance,

They come to play,

with we trusting mortal souls.

 

So lock tight the oaken door,

slide the iron bolt against the night.

Stoke the hearth fire high

and croon your children a lullaby.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

They come on moonbeams,

They come on the breeze,

Those wisps, those Fae, the Sidhe.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

So shiver, humans, as they pass,

secure your shutters fast.

Lest they take you with them.

 

In the half-light they have come…


They have come to laugh,

They have come to sing,

their beautiful voices, calling

 

For mortals everywhere…

 

To join their night,

to glory in their light,

to frolic with the fireflies,

and whisper to the trees.

While the wolf howls on the hill

and the wind tickles at the ear.

In the rivers the salmon speak,

and the stones scream from the earth.

Dance with the Sidhe, they cry,

dance my lovelies, and be free.

 

For in the half-light they come…

to reap from mortals everywhere

 

They sing of bliss,

and feasts and joy,

they dance in beauty,

in light serene.

They tell of paradise,

let you walk with gods;

in the night you live

an age of wonders.

 

In the half-light…

With your mortal soul…

 

They are splendour to behold

Captivating, mesmerizing,

tossing your dreams in the air,

offering harmony and joy.

 

A heaven in the half-light…

 

But as with all things,

a price must be paid.

To look upon immortal light

and dance with gods,

even for one eve,

such play will leave its mark.

A longing on the heart.

 

Of mortals everywhere…

 

With the dawn, a fortunate few

will depart with them

and leave behind this world of men.

The rest will remain upon the earth,

left here, lost in their wake

cursed to wander to their tune.

Friends will fall away,

love will wither.

As their song consumes.

 

In the half-light they come for you…

As they came for him…

 

Night after night,

they beckoned to his will.

Night after night,

he answered them.

He danced, he laughed,

in glades, on moonlight,

but never again with me,

only ever with them.

A pawn turning in their game.

 

In the half-light they took my love…

 

They toyed with him, used him,

until his bones lay white,

broken on the ground

under their feet.

 

Glinting in the half-light…

 

So heed me well,

when I tell you true

to lock tight your oaken door

and slide fast that iron bolt

against the night.

Ignore not my words

to stoke the hearth fire high

and croon your children a lullaby

to drown their song.

 

In the half-light they come…

 

They come on pale moonbeams,

They come on the howling wind,

those wisps, those Sidhe,

those dark of heart.

Hear my warning, I cry

 

To mortals everywhere,

In the half-light they will come…


 © All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart



Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE



Check out the rest of the Coffin Hoppers at:
CoffinHop

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The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

Join the Hop and support your favourite Horror Authors/Artists/Poets

BEWARE THE SANDWALKER #CoffinHop

Desert (3002-43)

Beware the great hunter of the desert, the Sandwalker

Huge and terrifying its visage, a tireless stalker

By day it sleeps, concealed beneath the sands

By night it awakes, hungry, to patrol its lands

 

Deadly its venomous sting, crushing its mighty claws

Prowling the sands for victims, hunting without pause

A blackened, scorpioid beast the size of a horse

Wielding a beak so sharp it can slice steel with its force

 

And if this terror you should ever meet

Know that it will never relent nor retreat

Unerringly, methodically, it will follow your trail

Cover your tracks as you might, to no avail

 

Can this nightmare be slain? No one knows

Where it is said to dwell, no one goes

Of those that crossed its path, none have returned

Beware and avoid, only this has been learned


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Wander down to the CoffinHop Boneyard…

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24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…

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The Legend of St Basil’s Cathedral – #CoffinHop

File:Ivan-Groznyi-Parsuna.jpg

The Tsar of all Russia, Ivan the Terrible,
stood in awe of the glorious sight
before his eyes: nine golden domes of
St Basil’s Cathedral,
resplendent, a testimony to his power and might

He stood mesmerised, transfixed, perplexed,
and in his mind a thought took form,
somewhat dark,
a mark of a jealous streak,
not uncommon in those of high rank.

Overcome by emotion and blind envy,
he succumbed
to dark forces, issuing a royal command
to the royal guards:
“Summon the creator of St Basil’s to our court
and in secrecy do away with the instruments
of his creations! Go on, make it fast!”

They did exactly according to the royal decree:
The poor wretch was bound and gagged,
his eyes gouged out
before he could bring to life another
exquisite work of art –
for no edifice on earth should ever rival
the splendour of St Basil’s Cathedral!

*

Copyright © 2014 Irina Dimitric

*

Remember to enter our fabulous #CoffinHop giveaway HERE

Wander down to the CoffinHop Boneyard…

The Penultimate Annual Horror Event
24th Oct – 31st Oct
60 Horror Authors/Artists/Poets
8 days of Fearsome Fun
8 days of Generous giveaways/sweepstakes/contests
Terrifying tales, Petrifying Poetry, Spine-tingling stories, Freakish Flash Fiction, Heart-Racing Horror…
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Limboesq…by richard lynn livesay #COFFIN HOP

Buried alive

intrepid vines choke life with anger
ripple through mine fields in slander
with snakes and blackened salamander

worms slurp my brain in warring militias
splitting my thoughts, forgetting my wishes
then mirrors reflect my life as fictitious

my status now cracked, a mossy symbol
I hang in effigy no one claims to resemble
anonymously, my hand begins to tremble

rotting in my tomb, I begin to fall
through that dark vacated wall
my screaming silenced, my last call

a poet I was, unknown and frazzled
blinded by words I tried to unravel
a race to nowhere in a pit of gravel

dungeons and daemons my pen did supply
with dank decomposition of flesh nearby
now buried alive, I sigh my last sigh

in a journey unknown of borrowed sorrow

I feel the fabric of entrapment
Like Poe’s prison of morbid enchantment
and I once again become a tiny fragment
suspended in a void like a damaged magnet