I Love a Good Storm ~Poem (2018)

On a murky and tumultuous evening

With a roaring fire crackling

The thunder and lightening

Which so many find frightening

Seem to soothe me and almost behoove me

To dance in the dark and smell the sweet rain

But so many bolts of lightening

In a night sky the with shades of grey

Seem to reach for me to light my way

My heart beats along with the sound of the rain

Drip drop, tick tock

Loud enough to make my heart stop

Brought back again by the sounds of

Owls hooting and screeching

Wolves playing and barking

Winds whipping and howling

A symphony not a cacophony 

Making music sweet enough to wake the dead

Or scare them back into their beds

I love a good storm

The power, the chance

Calling me out  to play and to dance

 

Poem 8/22/18

 

 

In the name of Perdition and her warrior Damnation

Cursed be thy name

Your kingdom all encompassing

Also ever lasting, your will never questioned

To avoid persecution and condemnation

Though benevolent you say you are

We are left playing in your strange bazaar

You created the mortals, and The Arcane

And put them on a chess board

For your own little game

A game where the majority loses so that

No one may reign

Soulless or hellfire is what is left to us

Damnation The Arcanes only threat

The only thing they fear, certainly not us

So as we quiver in fear in our locked rooms

Knowing your wrath and waiting our eventual doom

We pray please be kind and dont take our souls

But we know you dont hear us not even the death toll

Poem 8/10/18

Angel Daemon (2018) Interview

My first interview is with someone I have wanted to chronicle for a long time, the infamous Angel Daemon or @Blutengeldaemon my good friend and part of the #horror family on Twitter.

As the Encyclopaedia Britannica states : Angel and demon, demon also spelled daemon, respectively, any benevolent or malevolent spiritual being that mediates between transcendent and temporal realms. And that is how I feel about his writing,  he is so in touch with his feelings and inner mind that they are a consummate example of what writing is supposed to be. Therapeutic, intriguing, thought provoking and yes, spiritual. Not in a religious sense but in a metaphysical one. On that note lets get to the questions:

  1. Why do you write Angel? ~ Writing has become an escape. It’s a way to vent all my anger, hate, sadness and even happiness into the characters I created. So, it’s not so much me escaping, it’s the negativity that’s escaping onto the page and into the stories. It’s free therapy.
  2. Why the horror genre? ~ I love all genres. Growing up I watched a lot of cartoons like most kids. But my first form of entertainment was Horror. I just loved it. Before I was 6, I had already watched 2 ‘Friday the 13th’ movies, 3 ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’ movies, ‘Evil Dead 2’, ‘House’, and ‘Fright Night’. It’s just something that I can’t really explain. The way some people love comic books, Star Wars or Star Trek, I love Horror.
  3. When did you start writing and what made you get into it? ~ Since I was a kid, I always loved to create works of fiction. Whether it was using figures, toys or writing. I implemented that into school work(elementary) when we had to write stories. Teacher would tell us to write a page and I’d write 10. Every time I watched a movie, horror or not, I’d get my brother’s G.I Joes and “remake” the movie I just saw. I created my own ‘Friday the 13th’ movies. I took Jason to Disney, Hollywood, the wild west and who knows where else. Even as a drug addicted teenager, I was creating stuff in my head with no idea how to display it. In the end, I got tired of saying that they should make a movie like this or that. That little voice in my head said, “Why don’t you do it?” That was the spark I needed.
  4. Who are some of your favorite authors or what about some of your favorite books? ~ I really don’t read that much. Growing up I read a lot of kids’ books. As a teen I read most wrestler’s autobiographies. As I got older, I became a huge fan of Edgar Allen Poe and his work. My favorite of his is Metzengerstein. It’s actually his first short story. Currently, I’m reading a lot of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Of course, the Brothers Grimm are excellent as well so I’d say them too.
  5. What is something you would like people to knw about you? ~ I always tell people that I may write dark content and have a morbid imagination…but it’s only my sense of humor that is dark and twisted…not my heart.
  6. Do you have a personal mantra? ~ I use 2 actually. First one, belongs to wrestler Rowdy Roddy Piper. I use this when writing to keep me motivated creatively. It goes: “Just when you think you have all the answers, I change the questions.” The other plays off of the “Methods to your Madness” phrase. It is there are Madness to my Methods. Using the former, it can be predictable in a lot of cases. Like a familiar madness. Madness to my methods sort of leaves it up in the air as to what am I going to do next?

This is a link to his WATT PAD page where you can read all of his amazing other works!

https://www.wattpad.com/user/AngelDaemon17

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The Darkness: An Arcane Poem (2018)

The Darkness came like black tendrils of the night

Slithering and creeping straight out of a nightmare

He came for her with his macabre smile

“Come over here my dear and sit with me awhile”

“But you scare me to death,” she said with great care

For a coldness had entered her bones

Just not from the air

It was a warm summers night

But how to stay warm when you’re filled with such fright?

“There is nothing to fear.” he said with some glee

“I can be your friend there’s no need to flee”

“What do you want she asked with trepidation?”

“Just your soul,” he said

“So that I may grow my great nation”

“My soul!” she screamed with much terror

“Yes your soul, did I speak with some error?”

“To do what with? I need it to live”

“Not really he said, its easy to give”

“What nation do you speak of”

Her eyes starting to loll

“No business of yours so dont try to be bold”

She tried to run, anything to get away

But the Darkness surrounded her

Capturing his prey

And  as he took her soul from her quivering form

He laughed out loud and finished his swarm

“One day they will all be mine” they will all finally know

“That I keep what I take and I reap what I sow.”

Poem 8/5/18

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ode to the Family of Horror

The revenge in my heart 

Is crimson and black

Even though I am perturbed

By the verb that is the word

I was revitalized by the gods that had the ichor

That drained the gore

That is the lifeblood

Not in the guise of a slasher

Just deaths ever after

Not the voodoo

That changed what I do

But the apocalyptic disembowelment

That harvest the macabre creepy pasta of what others do

From the crone to the zombie, from the witch to the cannibal

Life’s own revenge is more amenable

And on Halloween Night

The Feast of Samhain

When sanguine psychos scream out in pain

Tormented they are from their torture

And the abattoir contained

Oozing and mutilated, grotesquely vomiting

Their shudders and burning scaphism

None should know of these things

But those exhumed from the crypt or the grave

But the antagonistic ghouls and their black hearts

Experience a vicissitude under the harvest moon

Like a stabbing from a scimitar

Though I do love the night and a fool moon

How atmospheric and spooky the tune

That comes with the gloaming

And demons, and ghosts, and clowns abound

As unnerving nightmares dancing and prowling around

Chains rattling, dread teeming copious amounts

As the abomination that was the sticky prowler

Was a legend amongst the paranoid collector of souls

And possession or exorcism, we all die in the end

To where we know not but it certainly impends

But the autopsy of the visceral phobias was cadaverous

In comparison to the abhorrent rot

That was a gothic romance of a homicide

The only answer to dance

Dance in the dark void

No mercy shown, no congress given

Scream into the blackness corpse

Exhume the monstrous sinister remorse

Fore dark brains wrought

Definite recourse

Bludgeon and poison the paranormal

Exhaust the norm

Finality is our chaos

Can not avoid the approaching storm

Dark is the scream, the eek , the fear

The uncanny massacre

Obliterating our oblivion

Savage and morbid

Disturbing the putrification of the secretor

So this ode is done

But always remember that horror is nearer

 

Arcane Poem

“My soul soars along the ocean

My essence floats over the seas

My spirit dances in the forest

My Id plays in the trees

The animals do not fear this mortal being

Nor do the stars in the sky

Just a shame I ceded my soul away

Now all I have left is to die.”

Poem 8/3/18

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