Dark poetry

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Murder Whispered In My Ear…

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Murder Whispered In My Ear…

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Murder Whispered In My Ear…

“The cold table remains forever open to all and is a muse for my darkened artistic lucidity,
A pact made with the Devil allows for my playthings to fester as in kicks their rigidity;
Oh how fragrant the stench of rot is to the senses and beautiful are the marks of lividity,
So many questions as to how they have arrived at their ending and what caused this morbidity;

Layer of dermis displaced and muscle past rigor are moved to show the grisly verity of fatality,
Manner and method of their expiration can be benign or sweet violence of the utmost brutality;
Many wonder about the ingredients and malicious intentions of homicide and its lasting lethality,
For eons the masses had visions of being forever but weep upon the ending of their mortality;

Fear not as I find the reasons for your passing and I prepare your body for its final destination,
The tools of my trade are sharp and precise as I cut and stitch with an almost unreal application;
There is certain glee to the machinations of my hands that some see as butchery and mutilation,
When mourners come to pay respects there are few who can’t help but admire the preservation;

The question will remain as to whether your death was natural or was it forcefully abducted,
In the casket you will take your final walk as the march towards the grave can’t be obstructed,
Whether to the gates of Heaven or Hell only you and I know as the final rights are conducted;
All that I know is that I have done what the voices in my head whispered to me as instructed…”

Posted by Dedman in Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum of Dark Poetry, FICTION AND POETRY, 0 comments
Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: A Wraith’s Infernal Lullaby

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: A Wraith’s Infernal Lullaby

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: A Wraith’s Infernal Lullaby

“Shadows of Dust, A Specter’s unrelenting Agony,
The splintered Reality, Blackest reward is Alchemy;
Enunciate thy Pain, Perpetrate outward in Blasphemy,
Vociferation details Anguish, A Soul befouled Maggoty.

Shade of Detritus, A Phantom’s inexorable Misery,
An unconnected Actuality, Baseless means of Mystery;
Vocalize your Torment, Represent forward as Trickery,
Exclamation without Angst, Psyche projects as Witchery.

Phantom of Rubble, A Wraith’s adamant Suffering,
Of broken Realism, Determination fades to Smothering,
Articulate thine Torture, Sufferance leads unknown Guttering,
Enunciate the Excruciate, Mortal coil experiences Puncturing.

Ghost of Wreckage, a Poltergeist’s unappeasable Bitterness,
Tattered bits Surrealism, Expectations dissolved as Dizziness,
Pronounce thou Distortion, Damnation begets a Slipperiness,
Alliterations within Consternation, Drained in Death’s Wilderness…”

Posted by Dedman in Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum of Dark Poetry, FICTION AND POETRY, 0 comments
Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum of Dark Poetry: Of Immolation and Graveyard Dirt

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum of Dark Poetry: Of Immolation and Graveyard Dirt

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum of Dark Poetry: Of Immolation and Graveyard Dirt

“The bells toll to start this funeral procession, much too late to hear a confession as I now release you from your transgression…

The smell of graveyard dirt is sharp in the air, pungent and wet as it is turned over by my spade,
A hole six feet deep into eternal darkness is burrowed while the worms watched, laughed and played;

The location is unruffled with a hint of perplexity, known only to my disciples in feverish secrecy,
Never will you be found in this unmarked grave even as you scream for unheeded mercy ceaselessly;

This unholy ritual performed by my mortician’s hands is unwavering in its complexity and yet simple in execution,
As the air runs low in lungs that burn and sound becomes muffled in a consciousness that now comprehends this retribution;

Ponder whether the betrayal was worth the kinship that was given up, collaborations that could have been legendary,
You sold your soul to a false idol whose words sparkle like false gold that have done nothing but buy your place in my cemetery;

It is now too late as you realize your role, I warm my hands as if by lumps of coal while watching the immolation of your soul…”

Posted by Dedman in Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum of Dark Poetry, FICTION AND POETRY, 0 comments
Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Aesthetical Massacre of Experience

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Aesthetical Massacre of Experience

Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum Of Dark Poetry: Aesthetical Massacre of Experience

“Whisper your sins to me as I am your Grand Inquisitor, the master of your torment and pain,
The tools of my trade promise nothing more but sheer brutality and a torrent of sanguine rain;

Secrets kept hidden in the shadow of cognition will be heard by ears in octaves that are profane,
Shrieking has polytonality that sends shivers through the spine that make it infeasible to refrain;

Arterial spray stipples the face as a grotesque mask of gore, a portrait of necromantic glamour,
A canvas of flesh aches for expression as I muse where to use the clawed end of a hammer;

Fingernails pulled and bones broken in a symphony of anguish not seen since the days of Inquisition,
Delight taken in spasms of distress as we press forward to unknown boundaries of this expedition;

Amputation is the butchers delight as the saw screams in triumph during the removal of flailing limbs,
Organs shine in the paleness of the light as necropsy begins like turning pages for the proper hymns;

Rapture that you thought was yours in passing now belongs to me as consciousness begins to fade,

You are now the newest piece in my gallery of sin, painted and sculpted with the brush that is my blade;

Whisper your sins to me as I am your Grand Inquisitor, the master of your torment and pain,
The tools of my trade promise nothing more but sheer brutality and a torrent of sanguine rain…”

Posted by Dedman in Dedman’s Morbid Mausoleum of Dark Poetry, FICTION AND POETRY, 0 comments
POETRY: Two Poems Inspired by the Art of Julie Dunic

POETRY: Two Poems Inspired by the Art of Julie Dunic

By Rich Orth

This Halloween I am collaborating with several artists to create original poetry/art combinations for the season. To get this started, I will ease us in with two recent collaborations with artist Julie Dunic.

Click to enlarge.


Words: ©Rich Orth / Art: ©Julie Dunic

Words: ©Rich Orth / Art: ©Julie Dunic

I will also be teaming up with Neil Tandy tomorrow night as well as Robert Uller, Jerry Langdon, Levi Lionel Leland, Sharon Maher, Mark Sean Orr, Xtopher Richmond, and Gaz Rees later this month.

Stay tuned to see what develops.

Posted by Alan Smithee in FICTION AND POETRY, 0 comments