The Stranded and the Asthmatic; An Alien Western

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

What I,

At 38, living

On my own Two pogo sticks,

for 15 years
Have to send
To my parents,

[Insert text here…]

*Hey, its late and I’ve been drinking, so I’m sleeping over at Irene’s (my sister). Sorry I didn’t tell you before. I lost track of time… and, I was really drunk… still am 🤪🙃😝*
Now, that I have been
Forced, to live with my own
Mamma and pappa… again,
So thankful, for their generosity
By taking me in, a stranded mouse,
On his own with his asthmatic cat,
What parents I have,
A pleasant surprise, at the end
Of a very strange tunnel,
Yes, I am back at my home,
Which at one time, was a place I ran from,
I now find myself there,

Here’s the pilgrimage, a western if you will,

That led me back, to my childhood home,


FADE IN; trading in, my Batmobile:
My first car, that I absolutely loved
And miss, so much!!!
I was presented, whith a fun spunk
To my arsenal of bat-motors,

A re-imagined batmo… robinmobile!?!?
Which, only trice, did I flip,
The calendar pages, of the Child,

I stood at the edge, of her total eclipse,
When a flash flood, came, and wrenched
Her away from me, her guts, sizzling,
While submerged, in the swampy depths
Of this wetland, where I’ve resided, for a decade
Of my perfectly contentnt existence,
[Sigh] She was replaced,

but not with the same luster, nor the same edge,
But a month and a half later, what fate
Has brought this to my entrée?
Hurricane fu’king Ida, barged in, shoving
This footloose, and fancy free stag, on the street,
No concerns, for where I can lay my head down,
Me, and my very own, Harley Quinn,
An asthmatic Sphynx, newly diagnosed,
Oh boy, honestly, because my twisted brain,
Thought the absolute, very fu’king worst,
But she’s doing better now

…thank you,


And thank you, to my parents
For taking us in,

…the stranded
And the asthmatic

There were no aliens…

©️Dorian Poe 9/19/21

~P.S.~

Happy birthday to my beautiful amazing sister Irene, and thank you again to my parents for everything that they are helping me with during this fu’king insane time in my life. I don’t say it nearly enough, but I love you guys. I am forever in your debt 🙏

~P.P.S.~

Thank you to Chewy for staying up until 5:30A.M. writing this and killing aliens with me.

… OH, WAIT!?!? There were Aliens

Thirst for Chaos

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

This rubble here, used to be a home,
Whispers of what once was, lingers in the ears
Of darkness, where these remains rot,
Memories and dreams, charred beyond thought
And recognition, in a still sleep, smoking
Amidst the forever residents, blended
Into the debris, left in the forgotten,
A sunken ship atop the exploded volcano,
No more life, no more cool breeze
Waking up the house where a family vanished,
Into fragile ash, crushed in the fine breath
Exhaled from their enemy, roosted upon demise
Of what he couldn’t bare to see, the good
Without any overcast, there needed to be chaos,
And in the calming of the after, he struck a match
To the gullet of this well made home
Just to watch it burn and swallow happiness,
All so he could smile watching from Olympus.

©DorianPoe2016

Unrecognizable

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

As the glass shatteres, at her feet,
The still of the moment
Is clenched between her teeth,
Her eyes, swimming, in the tango of sound
Around her, catching every whispered crash,
Even the hurried flap
From its wing, perched heavily,
Behind light shades, to see what she can,
When she, herself is encapsulated
In a narrow uncertainty,
The grim scene she sees, isn’t registering
Inside her corrupted mind, lost
To the horror in the spotlight
From the knocked over lamp,
A trail of havoc leads to where she’s frozen
At the nightmare she can’t get away from,
Blinking, in reaction to strikes upon
Open flesh, opening deeper in the crimson,
She continues to cling to what stands
Before her, stumbling into her eyes, yet
She begins to wonder,
As her heart drops below the iced surface
When she notices, how far from dream
All that is transpiring, she actually is,
The hand with the thick coating of blood
Keeps lunging down, at an elderly man,
A man she knows, to be her father,
She steps closer, breaking her polar stance,
The hand repeating itself
As the point of the blade is dulling,
No creaking wood as she moves in a bit more
With another fatal stab, to a vanished soul,
Clearing view of who wields death
Changing view, and back into her own self,
It is her, pinning down her father
Feeding him to the devil,
She stops the repetitive knife,
Looks back behind her, and to no avail
She is not disconnected, anymore,
Everything comes flooding back, memories
Of that day, and how she came to this end,
Her father smirking with a bottle in one hand
And a hand full of her hair in the other,
She shivers from the record playing
While he takes away every shed of her,
Too long, she let the slither of his disgust
Enter her domain, her tarnishing cage,
Until she broke free, in a rage
Leaving her feeble, broken self to follow,
Finding herself, unrecognizable.

©DorianPoe2016

Hunted Down

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

You wrestle with the shadow
To stay above you,
Afraid of Loneliness finding passage
In through the crack of light
From the fading eclipse,
Trying to pin down the cast night
Over you, pitching yourself out of view,
Wandering further into your veiling
Thinking your scent vanishes along with you,
But the hunters can’t be easily swayed
As you hear, their heavy breathing,
The lock is broken, letting in your villains,
Shining light from their palm, reflected
In your shaking fear-filled eyes,
Disbelieving that they’ve found you, paralyzed
By the hunters nearing their conquest,
Now a different kind of shadow
Rises above you, as the swarm you hid from
Comes rushing through the open door,
Beating you down, wrestling, with you
To succumb to desolation,
So you brave it the best you can
Until the next eclipse.

©DorianPoe2016

Birth of the Grim

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

Stricken by the monster, lurking in the open,
Feeding, off the blood left on the plank
From numerous lashes, when it strikes,
For it swings on the strings of your fear,
Everywhere you’d be, you’d hear it’s breath
Clouding your pulse, filling your shallow pool
In which you stammer, not really wanting
To stay above the surface, content in the gutter
Of your room, down the hall, in a labyrinth,
Right where this beast needs you,
With safety vanishing deep into void
The monster broadens it’s shoulders and stretches
It’s reach to pick you from the bunch
When your scream is ripe, licks it’s lips,
Sniffing the polluted dirt for the next troubled seed,
An insatiable hunger, a curse upon the monster
As well as a curse upon the petrified living,
Long before this monster trolled rage filled
And a shadow under the wings of fear,
He was consumed in the solace of his love,
Embracing the moments they shared together
Until, the erosion brought her to the doorstep
Where she will stand before the daunting judge,
Knowing, her fate even before the disease
Would strike, it’s final blow, with her in his arms,
Right outside their own living fairytale, 
In the cold blanket, of the saddened sky,
Placing his palm upon the earth, the damned
Hearing his plea to spare her, and take him,
A deal, the devil could not resist,
Using him as a tool of fear and death,
His Grim Reaper.

©DorianPoe2016

Room at the End

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

In a room, kept locked, by a serpent,
There visits, a tormented girl,
She puddles the emptiness
That keeps her in, echoing her pain
Into cup of her own hands.

Ran away years ago, into stranger waters
And swam out into the middle,
Wandered into her own abyss and found
This room, at the bottom of the shattered sea,
Abandoned, except for her fear,
Perched on the wall, screaming at her,
Keeping the shadow at the stalk,
A silent stampede raging toward her
As she continues to drown, on the tile
Swallowing words that swim in her head,
Hunted in the low light of her clouded mind,
Slowly closing the scope, making the room
Smaller, tighter and closer to her fear,
While she hides in her hollowed hands
Catching the dread pouring out,
At the same time, the lurking evil
Penetrates beneath her skull, letting in
The gushing tide, that suffocates her,
Laughing from it’s safe haven, enjoying
As she slips into the bleak, beneath the surface.

image

©DorianPoe 2015

Finale

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

The curtain is kept drawn, with Darkness
Peeking through slits, stealing Glimpses of the estranged, riding
The swaying chair, carved by suicide thoughts.

Beats upon the chest,
Thumping echo of the final drip
Caught still, while clenched eyes
Fear to open.

Panic in the cold morning,
When death becomes lucid
And less haunting, instead
Of uncertainty, you’re captured
In the spill into the everlasting moment
When we find ourselves lost.

©DorianPoe 2015

Underground Garden

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

As the light flickers, in the distance
A bitter flower blossoms within
The chocked heart’s rumble,
Suffocated throat in a noose, eats
Me whole, while wilting
From the haunted howl
In an underground garden, buried
Beneath my death, is the rising growth,
Wrapping up and through, swallowing
Whole are the twisted vines,
Thorn covered, scraping death off
The walls of my vanishing gullet,
Anchoring itself
Barricading, against the invasion
Of the slithering decay, looking
For its next meal,
Drugged, from an unsuspected bite,
Pulling me into the kaleidoscope
In the roots of this underground garden,
Lost, myself to its hold,
I’m swallowed whole.

©DorianPoe 2015

Mirror, Mirror

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

I’m consumed by the wreckage
In it’s reflection, tarnished,
From my rooted hold, over many laps
Of lives around me, I live with
Knowledge, to which I stare far into,
Dried on years and cracks, overrun
As I glaze back into the handheld void,
Imprisoned in my own grasp, holding on
To what looks back, showing the disgust
Of what I am now, from what I’ve done,
Cursed in the nightmare that stalls
My death, my escape from this skin,
I’ve corrupted the dirty,
Spun the weak webbed bridge
For it only to collapse, in the sway
From my sigh, repeating in vivid picture
Where I sit, holding my damnation,
Dry desert plains blanket my face,
Cracks, swallowing the men, who’s
Legs, I’ve broken into staying,
Now dread my sweet siren song,
For my past is projected
By the mirror, clasped firmly by me,
It has become my enemy, Demon
Crested, and worn
In my tormented hypnosis.

image

©DorianPoe 2015

The Hunter and it’s Prey

Posted on by the_dorian_poe

An abrasive squawk, barges in
To a tightly grasped serenity,
Always distant,
Running into the depths, from it’s
Predator mocking a chilled turmoil
Is I, as I hide in the mid summer’s
Night garden, from the dwelling beast,
Sniffing out, my dread,
Where is my resting scape,
As a vanishing point, loses sight
In the crushing waters
Swallowing, the unattainable light,
Silence in this wrestle,
As I plot my stiff, weary bones
Beside these huddled stones, upright,
Tall, as they seclude my pant,
But for how long,
How much of the sand wastes away
Before my hunter, catches wind,
How will I know,
Will it be when cold fire seizes
My heart, in the howling echo
Of the collapsed pendulum,
As the vacant chime, of a halted world
Shines just enough light,
Upon me,
Found in muddled fright,
How long will I do this, hiding
From the stalking truth
That I, am a stranger
Amongst the living,
So I rise arms open as swift wings
Of my scrounger approaches
And carries me away,
Into the ambit.

©DorianPoe 2015