And The Raven Laughs

The night, so dark and lonely
The day, so long and unjust
Meets the warrior with truth
His lies fall on dead ears
His looks fall on blind eyes
And his secrets, they die with his soul.

The night, so dark and lonely
The day, so long and unjust
Meets the love with anguish
Her screams follow the wind
Her tears lead a march to dry land
And her secrets, they die with her heart.

Both look to the sky for comfort
Finding only angry clouds
And in the midst of their confusion
They cry out, reaching for the other
Finding not love, but pain.

Hand clasped at her breast
She pulls out what has been hidden
A dagger; it’s gleam reaches the moon
And as she plunges it into her chest
She cries, “Relief from this pain”
“Release of your soul.”

Hands tap the left wrist
One, two, three, four
He feels whole, he feels safe
Relief from this pain
Resurrection of his soul
His eyes turn black as he sneers.

and the raven laughs.



the hourglass runs low

The original version of the it’s free form…before the rewrite. Written in a small bedroom of a small green house many moons ago… Keep in
mind it was written by a preteen.

The night grows dark around me
The hourglass runs low
The things I see surround me
Yet I know not where to go.

I see them drawing nearer
I have nowhere else to go
My love for him grows colder
And the hourglass runs low.

My eyes have now grown clearer
And all I can see is him
He who treated me so badly
And tore my soul from limb to limb.

The hourglass is almost empty
Because I see what I’m here for
There’s blood everywhere-I killed him
Now the hourglass is no more.

Dear Soldier

The world longs for peace and gets war instead
The breath of this world is shallow
The hope of this world hangs on a mere thread

All these killings, the battlefields are red
Hearts of the tortured are hollow
The world longs for peace and gets war instead

Into these wars we are but blindly led!
We have no choice but to follow
The hope of this world hangs on a mere thread

For all of the fallen who have, for us, bled
Thank you to all these dear heroes
The world longs for peace and gets war instead

You fight our battles and have never fled
Prayers for you reach the cosmos
The hope of this world hangs on a mere thread

Continued bravery still lies ahead
Strengthen the thread with your halo
The world longs for peace and gets war instead
The hope of this world hangs on a mere thread.


Knock, Knock

He knocked on the door

He knocked once more

He knocked like he had never

knocked before.

He kicked and he screamed

He came apart at the seams

And his eyes took on an

insane little gleam.

He pounded and shouted

He was deeply devoted

He wondered why on earth

he had ever doubted


When he kicked open the door

And his boot landed on the floor

Of a hallway so dark, it

chilled him to the core,

He shivered and moaned

The dark chilled his bones

The fear inside him had

grown and grown.

Yet he still stepped inside

Closed the door, couldn’t hide

It seemed the darkness is where

he would abide.

He closed his eyes to the pain

His life, all in vain

He knew how nothing would ever

be the same.

So, falling to his knees

He imagined a cool breeze

And ended his life so he

could finally be free.


National Hopeline Network 800-SUICIDE

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 800-273-TALK

Revenge of the Damned

heads outside my window
speaking the language of the dead
their voices strained with agony
their souls lost forever in the void
they seek retribution
they seek a change
from their tortured existence
their voices rise in harmony
cursing the one
who had damned them
cursing the one who laughed
at their misfortune
cursing he who thought
he ruled their world
their voices
lifted upon the air
and carried by the wind
reached the wicked one
he heard their chant and laughed
when blood flew from his mouth
when he fell to the ground
and his head
floated to the ones he damned
when they devoured him
his soul caught in limbo
as they now laughed
at him
relishing his taste
in their revenge
their spirits rose
and disappeared

this poem is expanded from a dream I had in 1989.
make of it what you will.
written 2011

The Hourglass

This horror poem was written in 1993.  It was accepted in 1995 for publication after my teacher helped me edit it. My father, thinking it was a “scam”, didn’t allow me to sign the authorization papers and send them back in..but being the hopeful writer – I still hold joy in the fact that something I wrote when I was 12 was good enough to be published.

Painting by Michael Whelan

The night grows dark around me

The hourglass runs low

The thing I see surrounds me

I have nowhere else to go

The thing I see grows nearer

I’ve nowhere else to go

The shape of it grows clearer

The hourglass runs low

The night grows bright around me

The shape before me clears

It’s him – the one who hurt me

 Author of all my fears

He laughs and tries to grab me

I’ve nowhere else to go

Screaming – I’ll never be free

The hourglass runs low

My thoughts – turn on a whim

I see what I’m here for

Blood everywhere – I killed him

Hourglass is no more.


nothing has changed


a smile, a thought


made by a kitten’s

tennis shoes


a love, once lost, found

in the torn soul

of fate’s survivor


nothing has changed


the business of war

has the blood

of innocents

gushing through the streets

of hopelessness and despair


what’s the profit margin

on mass murder





my world

once filled with love

now filled

with backstabbing and mistrust


nothing has changed


when a world crumbles

it’s almost impossible


rebuild it


nothing has changed

nothing has changed

nothing has changed

something should change..

written 5 March 2012

now i’m calmed down.