Bill Kinsella Died Today

by Axel Howerton

 

Bill Kinsella died today

leaving, as he always did,

when he was damned good and ready

It broke my heart a little to hear it

little cracks forming, splitting, glowing red from underneath

at the idea that he chose to leave us behind

Those cracks were already forming

the last time I saw him

tall and thin as ever

paper thin and faded like an old page

more crooked and folded and dog-eared than I remembered

Bill told me he was tired

worn through

and I nodded, as one does

as if I knew the weight of the years he’d lived

Bill taught me

A long time ago

about the Music of Words

about the Magic that glows behind Life

and Baseball

and Brautigan

Bill taught me about Love and Loss

about Moonlight

and the hanging curve

and the terrible joy of hitting it square on

Bill wrote stories of regret and redemption

and the writerly things about writers

because that’s what he was

Always

He took me on trips to Frank Pierce, Iowa

and Hobbema and Vegreville

and the weird back rooms of Vancouver

I rode with him across pages

from our own hometown in Alberta

to the jungles of Courteguay

where voodoo chiropractors turn out iron-armed infielders

and Dennys Kelly turned into a wolf

Bill showed me the world

with all of its cracks

and the Magic glowing red underneath

the hot stuff

and the thundering tempo

and the seventh-inning stretch when we all get to look

and feel the heat on our face

Adios, Teach

Enjoy the next game

and save me a seat

  • For Bill 9/17/2016

HUSH MY LITTLE ONE #CoffinHop

photo credit: 尽在不言中 via photopin cc

Hush my little one, dry your tears
Sleep my child, forget your fears

Mummy’s here now, you’re safe and sound
The ghūls are far away, underground

The graveyard’s their home, and there they stay
So you’re safe from them, if you keep away

They need to feed, do beware
So let another, find their lair

Let their sacrifice, feed their lust
And give their life, for someone must

Else the ghūls will stray, into town
Choose a target, and strike them down

When they come, they’ll cause no fuss
Because they’ll change form, to one of us

They lure their victims, with such disguise
So remember this trick and don’t trust your eyes

The one way to tell, if it’s a ghūl
Is by their hooves, that’s the rule

What’s that you say? You see my feet
Yes they are hooved, but there’s no retreat

Your mummy’s already dead, I drank her blood
It tasted delicious, a warm dark flood

And as her life, began to fade
I thought of you and my mind was made

I’ll eat you first, and then the rest
Because I like… Children best

So be still my dear and don’t you cry
Your tears won’t save you, it’s time to die

 

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Midday Terror ~ #CoffinHop

IMAG0567 auto contrast light signed

Midday sunshine
Church bells ring through
Steamy fields
Farmers run for shelter
Helter skelter
Some climb up tall trees

Twelve bell strikes resound
The Midday Witch
Comes out of ground
Black snakes peak
From underneath
Her black peaked hat
The old bat
Is on the way
To catch her prey

Groan she does and cackles:
I will get you all
Hee hee hee
I’ll put you all in shackles
My faithful snakes will
Bite and smite
I’ll bake you in a cake
Or grill you as a steak
So there!
Hee hee hee

Now then
Wriggly, hissing beasts
From underneath
The black peaked hat released
Enjoy rampaging
An orgy staging
For Midday Witch’s feast!

Church bells ring
Angels sing
The Midnight Knight will bring
His mighty dagger
Keep at bay
The hissing mob
No child will ever sob
So there!

War now rages rife
Midnight Knight
A fair fight fights
For precious life
His dagger swishes, slashes
Red blood splashes all around!

The Midday Witch at last
Concedes defeat
With her wriggly, hissing band
She makes a swift retreat
Down the gaping hole
In blood-stained ground

Church bells ring
Children sing
What a day it’s been!
To Midday Witch
They bid goodbye
So long!
Until next year
At Halloween!

*

Copyright ©2014 Irina Dimitric

*

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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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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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

*

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TWICE THE FEAR #CoffinHop


It was I thought an abandoned tomb

An ancient relic, in eternal gloom

But within this eldritch, slumbering womb

Lay an imprisoned terror… And my doom


I found it as I crossed this lonely desert land

It was but a stone wheel, buried in the sand

Perplexed by this discovery, I knelt to uncover it by hand

Revealing an archaic portal, whose purpose I could not understand


Gripping the wheel, I struggled to wrench it free

Eventually succeeding, and opened this portal of mystery

Before me stretched steps untouched since antiquity

Obscured by a foul darkness, through which I could not see


Curiosity ruled my thoughts, and so I began to descend

Holding a flashlight anxiously, wondering where they’d end

Down a hundred steps I went, before reaching a bend

And came to a cavernous expanse I could not comprehend…


Strewn across the floor were artefacts of stone and clay

Smashed and left to lie for the ages to this day

Yet over the remains hung the heavy stench of decay

More recent, undiminished, filling me with dismay


As I stood in silence, puzzling over what I’d found

There came from the hidden depths, a tortured sound

An inhuman groan, so intense it shook the ground…

Then I realised, something fearful towards me was bound


My trembling torch cut a swathe through the dusty air

But where I’d heard the noise, there was nothing there

Overcome with horror, I mouthed a silent prayer

But my fate was already sealed – I would die in this lair


Then from the dancing shadows, it began to appear

Half a torso, one arm and leg, hopping near

Its head half a mouth and nose, a single eye and ear

It was only half a man, but twice the fear


Faced with such nightmare, I strove to disbelieve

But it was the dreaded Nasnas, I failed to conceive

Spawn of a demon, my flesh it began to cleave

Ignoring my cries, my slayer, its domain I would never leave…




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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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CAGED

D
E
A
T
H

only in death see
not dead—in words
the only star
prove God’s existence
amused nightmares
those who die

carcass cage
muscles cease
seize freeze wheeze
eyes cry
downward ether lie
cracked blood crater
downward ether lie
eyes cry
seize freeze wheeze
muscles cease
carcass cage

those who die
amused nightmares
prove God’s existence
the only star
not dead—in words
only in death see

E
F
I
L

An Echo of Trumpets

Banner

Herald the thunder, ragged
Battle banners, set flying
Like the broken blade, jagged
Remnant in war met dying

Harbinger, bring the sorrow
with ease of grace so willing
to greet fate, on the morrow
the blade to blood, oh, spilling

Roar the tune before us, blaring
Ride for glory, whenever
the call to arms comes bearing
Be it our last endeavour




© All Rights Reserved A. F. Stewart