Dark Poetry
Poetry by Ramona Thompson, Brian Barnett, Ben Kingsley and
Cindy O'Quinn
I Am The Hell Hound
By Ramona Thompson


I am the Hell Hound
Barking my evil
Just outside your door
Clawing
Unholy screaming
Blood thristy
To get in and let
My eternal stench consume you

I am the Hell Hound
Beast from beyond
Take no prisoners
I eat them
One by one
Bones and all
My diet list includes you next
Just because
I'm a fiend like that
The devil's very own best friend

I am the Hell Hound
Maddness and I always pal around
Paw in hand
I'm a monster
I won't say I'm sorry for it
I'll just gobble you up whole
So say your last prayers clear and fast
For tonight I come for you

I am the Hell Hound
There is none other
Quite like me
Let me make it clear
This isn't simply murder
This is my feast
You will not escape
None ever have before

So don't think
You will be the first
Oh dearest whore
All too soon to die
In my devouring arms of sweet death tonight
To read other short stories,
click one of the titles below.
About Ramona Thompson

Ramona Thompson has been
writing for more then 20 years.
Her credits include poetry with
horrifiedpress.com, Calvary
Cross, Dead Snakes, Infernal
Ink, Howl, This Ain't No Rodeo
and many more.  Readers/fans
may stalk her on facebook or
her e-mail
reddstar111@gmail.com
Lost Souls  
By Cindy O’Quinn


Had I come to the tree while happy
would I have seen so clearly
their lost souls?
Floating among the branches
as easily as all of those shoes do now.

All of the forgotten soles
will never make contact
with ground again.
All of those souls
gathered together in perfect misery.

They screamed – begging me to leave,
needing me to stay.

Had I come to the tree while happy
maybe I could have walked away.
But I wasn’t,
So I slipped out of my worn shoes,
and started to climb.

One last breath,
and a lost soul I became,
as my shoes dangled,
and represented yet,
another forgotten death.
About Ben Kingsley

Ben Kingsley is best known for
his Academy Award winning
role as Mahatma Ghandi. This
Ben is a touch less famous. He
hasn't acted since a third grade
debut as the undertaker in Music
Man. Currently, he is a Michener
Fellow, VONA: Voices of our
Nation Scholar, and belongs to
the Onondaga Nation of
Indigenous Americans in New
York. He holds an M.A. from the
University of Pennsylvania. Most
recently his work has been
published in Prairie Schooner
and Diverse Voices Quarterly.
Seven Haiku
By Brian Barnett


dirty gravedigger
savoring succulent bones
sweeter than candy

~~~~~

crimson flows freely
she cries over her husband
her mouth, full of blood

~~~~~

blood-splashed silver
he dies, wolf melting away
his last words: “thank you”

~~~~~

lightning splits the sky
illuminating faces
pale, hungry and dead

~~~~~
Parasomnia: The Nighttime Cryptozoologist
By Ben Kingsley


I.
And I
was like one
born from a cold corpse
on its sweat-strapped
back to a shrill purr at
the edge of my bed and
I swear          I heard
a clicking of tongue
against slender teeth
Chupacrabra phantom
cat bedside Belial I swear
II.
“My        child       dream
eater”        it         cuckoos
down     at my paralysis
a great snake      hangs
oblong     and     swelling
in a    flurry    of spidered
legs pinwheeling   a shaded face
that slips close to the split moon
around my lips to say     “I will
breathe       god into your belly
as you sleep and I will make your
ribs a wide cage to catch souls like
birds: apostle disciple prophet
III.
when        snapping       through
crepuscular     channels     on     TV
I  tell  my  father  of  the  dreams  but  he
doesn’t   hear  or  is  it listen and I   cry  out
while  he  playacts alongside Reality TV
his feet      of a deer hoofed    and now hovering
clutching wet wall    and he’s     slipping down
its side surefooted     as a broken sun      priest
of the sun pieces     of orange nail humming
orbiting his torso         a torso covered in
feathers and his head now burnt head dressed
in bent rebar and      sticky liquor while he peers
what is burning           alongside me on the hardwood
“what will you do about that” he says sticking his chin
at the Bible’s lambskin cover curling        in flame
and then I heard the voice like peals of thunder. Cry out
About Brian Barnett

Brian Barnett is the author of
dozens of stories and poems
that have been published both
in print and online.  He lives in
Frankfort, Kentucky with his
wife, Stephanie, and his children.




sloughing its dead skin
cleansing the blood from its pores
it cries, the moon wanes

~~~~~

warning from the woods
wind whispers through the willows
“the wendigo nears”

~~~~~

waiting in the dark
a cool breeze carries her scent
she nears, unaware
About Cindy O'Quinn

Cindy O'Quinn lives in the North
Woods of Maine with her
husband and sons. Her work
has been published in past
issues of Blood Moon Rising
Magazine, Sanitarium Magazine,
and Poetry Breakfast.
I Wear The Wolf
By Ramona Thompson


Under my skin
Secret deep within
I begin and end
With the full moon rising
The spell
I just can't resist
I am what I am
I cannot lie
When I wear the wolf

Darkness abounds
The monster is unleashed
Growling
Barking in its unnatural fury and claws
The fur becomes
My prison and my release
All in one
I am the man and the beast
Tonight
When my soul joins
With the curse
Tonight
When I wear the wolf

From the closet of Hell
The new one arises
In maddness and triumph
Beware where you tread next
For we could be
Only two steps behind
Hot breath on your neck
Demonic scent
The anticaption of the taste of you
Drives us wild
I am the alapha and the omega
Your beginning and your end
Lord of all I seek
When I wear the wolf tonight
For poems from Ramona
Thompson, Brian Barnett,
Ben Kingsley and Cindy
O'Quinn,
click here

For poems by Allen
Yoakum, John Grey and
Timothy Wilkie,
click here

For poems by Denny E.
Marshall,
click here