thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 17: Joshua D. Miner
http://thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com/2008/05/joshua-d-miner.html
Joshua D. Miner. Al Nihaya or The End. 8220; . . e. Ven under anesthesia the monkeys blinked . . .”. A Wired News article, scrolled halfway through, showed on the dimmed screen of a Dell XPS 3.030 laptop not currently plugged into a power source – but no soul was there to view it, for the quiet American who had been reading was now at the window. STITCH. STITCH. STITCH. 8220;Christ – already I’ve got something on my jacket. My black Jiuche Diesel jacket. How long have I had it? 8220;True. And yesR...
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Danse Macabre 17: Felicia Florine Campbell
http://thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com/2008/05/felicia-florine-campbell.html
This is a cautionary tale. Beware of Stick Men. You cannot hear their bones rattle when they walk. You cannot see their darkness when they talk. Coffee will not satisfy them. Where they feed is desolation. The Stick Man probed the edge of her mind. It was a delicious crispy cookie, fresh from the oven. "Hi, I haven't seen you here before. Welcome to the family." He leaned toward her, his voice soft, approving, very different from Jeff's. Could the dingy surroundings reflect the spirit of their owner?
thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 13: LATE BLOOMERS a Poem by Steven Kilpatrick
http://thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com/2007/10/late-bloomers-poem-by-steven-kilpatrick.html
LATE BLOOMERS a Poem by Steven Kilpatrick. These grovel churned damp soil to life. The flower off the grave. Fans a nocent scent. That rises, lurks and stumbles like the rose. Neighborly smiles borne flesh that’s torn—yet terribly craven. These grovel churned damp soil to life. The flower off the grave. Reanimates the starving. Drowned among rust shoveled waves. Tollways of dust-trod-empty-feet dance death in body’s clothes. These grovel churned damp soil to life. The flower off the grave. Menu de la lune.
thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 17: Taylor Collier
http://thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com/2008/05/taylor-collier.html
Ed had invited Robert over for dinner Saturday night so Robert could fix Ted’s computer. Linda had just finished preparing the meal when Robert knocked on the front door. Ted knew Robert from work, but Robert had never met Linda. He came in and shook hands with both of them. 8220;Hope you like your steaks with a little pink in them, Robert,” Linda said, ushering everyone into the kitchen. 8220;Everything looks and smells great,” Robert said. 8220;Wait till you taste it,” Ted said. 8221; Ted asked. 8220;S...
thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 13: OCTOBER a Sonnet by Robert David Michael Cerello
http://thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com/2007/10/october-sonnet-by-robert-david-michael.html
OCTOBER a Sonnet by Robert David Michael Cerello. How diff'rent October- whose energy is dark,. Writing its change in stricken leaves of red,. In gusts, grey clouds' lines, blue sky (intense),. Of urgency spurring actions. If Spring's bright. Are glints of morning sun on wavelets thrown,. Autumn is shadows cloak'd in a brilliance; haste. Measuring acts with sinews; time's fleeting days'. Speaking commands of frost from bright Danger's. October can lull; but past its summer cloak,. Menu de la lune. DM 2 -...
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Danse Macabre 13: MAGNIFICAT a Poem by Elizabeth I. Riseden
http://thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com/2007/10/magnificat-poem-by-elizabeth-i-riseden.html
MAGNIFICAT a Poem by Elizabeth I. Riseden. Sierra and Sage stand. On the upended blue tub. Arms reaching, harvesting. I rush, mold quick cookies. To celebrate Mothers Day. Why don’t I stop? Picking, worshiping apple pink. Outdoors more than indoor. Distractions; barrel, blossoms,. Gray day warm enough to pick;. Oven, sugar, fat, flour. Chocolate, stirred in a frenzy. Of forgetting that we work. In fragility- -shaping, mixing, picking- -. While the kids’ war-. Deployed Daddy could be dead. Menu de la lune.
thedansemacabre19.blogspot.com
danse macabre 19: Roxanne Hoffman
http://thedansemacabre19.blogspot.com/2008/09/roxanne-hoffman_07.html
Ripped from the safety of earth. Aunched at warp speed into deep space, I brace myself against the thrust. The conversation in the control room, already fragmented into squeals and clicks by static, is consumed by the raging roar of rocket engines. The doctor reads my response and chuckles to himself. “Well at least, you don’t feel like killing yourself! That’s good news. You know more about this than me. You’ve had this all your life. What do you usually take? 8220;Her primary care physician gave her a ...
thedansemacabre19.blogspot.com
danse macabre 19: Adam Henry Carriere
http://thedansemacabre19.blogspot.com/2008/09/elizabeth-i-riseden.html
Kiss Me on the Freeway. E’d run from the pastures of grass. To sing and dance in a car he didn’t own. Palm trees and faded neon passed. While dreams bounced inside,. The padded shoulders of memory agreed,. The pestle and mortal sin were sumptuous;. The worth of studying failed history aside,. This morphine-like lullaby still works,. Like a Cartier charm. Without the bother of incriminating ledgers,. The punky kiss still arouses deep passion. Across the trench of time. Mis-spent in the distance. SLS is af...
thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 13: ASHLEY, IT'S SCARLET a Short Story by Felicia Florine Campbell
http://thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com/2007/10/ashley-its-scarlet-short-story-by.html
ASHLEY, IT'S SCARLET a Short Story by Felicia Florine Campbell. If I hadn't loathed the man so completely, I would have discovered the true nature of Ashley before he had done so much damage. I console myself that even a specialist in occult psychology can be forgiven for not recognizing a seemingly mythological figure walking - or should I say stalking? Of course, only three other people are aware that I am responsible for freeing Joshua U. from the curse of Ashley, or even that he was the curse. The co...
thedansemacabre19.blogspot.com
danse macabre 19: Branch Isole
http://thedansemacabre19.blogspot.com/2008/09/branch-isole.html
Space and time travel. Where shall we go today? Seven minutes of horror. A molecular thin line,. The choice and decision. Is in the mind. Travel near or travel far. You'll be exactly where. You imagine you are. May be on the bed. But the rest of you. Is in your head. Which you think is real,. And you could swear it is. By the way you feel. And who's to say. It's not . . . For every element is present. Proving beyond a doubt. You may be physically down. But you're never mentally out. So nap and dream.