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Poetry Magnum Opus

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Sure...you don’t believe in spooks, but I’ll bet there was a time, when you rushed up a flight of darkened stairs, or hurried to get to the other side of a door, because you weren’t certain what lurked behind you in the dark. Did I hear you say never...not me?” Well, maybe not...however this day is not over.
 
THE BASEMENT

Thunder rumbled; I descended with care, to the bowels of the century old house.
To search among cobwebs and dusty shelves, for a trap to catch a mouse.
With quest in hand I retraced my steps, to the foot of the open stair.
Where a sound so faint beneath the risers, caused a ripple to course my hair.

Hesitating...I stayed my foot, I dared not move one bit,
My ears and senses strained, trying to recognize it.
Like a whisper I heard a rustle; my body became suddenly warm,
In the faint glow of a forty watt bulb, my eyes perceived a form.

Under the open stairway, where pale light grew dim,
A silhouette loomed before me, tall and extremely slim.
A wave of nausea swept over me; my brow began to sweat;
My upraised foot was trembling...I hadn’t placed it yet.

Twenty steps above was a landing...frantically I weighed my chances,
Of reaching the top, slamming the door, no time for backward glances.
I placed my foot on the bottom step; the specter made a start;
My legs grew rubbery, my backbone weak, undeniably I was coming apart.

Like a light in the gloom her voice called out; “Before you come back up here,
Will you look beneath the stairway, for my antique stool that’s there?”
“Oh yeah,” I thought, “Sure, you bet! I’ll do it right away.
I’ll march right back there, tap its shoulder, and this is what I’ll say.

“You’re a figment of my imagination, I only think I see you here;
My wife would like this antique stool, so...I’ll take it to the dear.”
None-the-less I stood there, tensed and poised for flight.
Her sweet voice came back once more, “Honey, are you all right?”

Now really! I don’t believe in spooks, but I was truly feeling fear.
Hair on my head was standing tall, and blood was rushing my ear.
Leaning forward for a better view, took all the courage I had.
The apparition crouched menacingly; I was certain I would go mad.

Again her voice called out, “If your having trouble Dear,
You’ll find it standing along the wall, leaned upon by a mirror.”
A mirror...a mirror...then that’s my reflection I see?
I’ve been stone-cold petrified, by tricks my eyes played on me.

I noticed...when I moved to one side, so too did my adversary.
It was the pallid light from the dangling bulb, that made the basement scary.
A snort and snicker escaped my throat, the air turned suddenly cool;
Ducking beneath the stairway, I looked for the antique stool.

While searching the dark, something approached the stairs,
A sound that prickled my skin, and again bristled my hairs.
I forced myself to look through the risers, to see what I could see;
There in the gloom, two fiery eyes, glared intently back at me.

I gasped...sucking hot air...sweat oozed from every pore.
Something blocked my escape...my escape to the upstairs door.
I tried in vain to withdraw, into my physical being,
Then, came tiny sounds, from something I wasn’t seeing.

Lighting around me grew dimmer...gloom held me in its grip.
Tiny squeals came closer; in fear I bit my lip.
I wanted desperately to get away, away from smothering heat.
It was then...at that very moment...I felt movement at my feet.

Faintly came a muffled voice, “They’re going to get you, you know,
You can’t get away; you can’t hide; you have nowhere to go.”
A sharp prickling at my ankles, slowly moved up my leg.
In desperation, I tried to scream, I was voiceless...I couldn’t beg.

The squeals grew louder, something moved across my thigh,
I squeezed tight my eyes, but not a tear could I cry.
I tried hard to brush it off, my arms felt tightly bound,
Something grasped my shoulder; I heard this demanding sound.

“Come on...it’s Saturday, you can’t stay in bed all day.
The kittens have been climbing all over you, they’re wanting you to play.”
She pulled the blanket from my head; sunlight filled the room,
I breathed a deep sigh of relief...I was saved from a horrible doom.

“Honey, aren’t you feeling well, you’re looking a little white?
Why...you’re soaked, did you not sleep well last night?
Oh, yes...please go to the basement...bring up my antique stool.
It has to be refinished, before it’s auctioned at the school.”

YarnSpinner
copyright 2013
 

 

 

 

 
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  • 6 months later...
abstrect-christ

nice creeper -- fun but effectively descriptive.
last line has a typo.
Perhaps "before it's auctioned off at the school"?

Pinhead

"Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends.

There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh."

Joey

"I don't believe you."

Pinhead

"Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume.

To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart."

"There's a starving beast inside my chest
playing with me until he's bored
Then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
crawling his way out he rips open old wounds

When I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
its blade reflects my determined face
to plant it in my chest
and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins

Hollow me out, I want to feel empty"
-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreaker

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aBPy3xNwwL8

"Sky turns to a deeper grey

the sun fades by the moon

hell's come from the distant hills

tortures dreams of the doomed

and they pray, yet they prey

and they pray, still they prey"
-- "Still They Prey" by Cough

https://soundcloud.com/relapserecords/sets/cough-still-they-pray

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