Gnashing Teeth Outside the Chained Gates

Suck dog water, you itchy scum.
I can’t believe your kind have survived this long.

You probably hold not a clue how reviled you are,
cushioned in your own delusion by a skull thick with illusion.


I hope you choke.
You fucking toad.

You won’t get away with your hateful game too long.
The wolves will hunt you down, make no mistake.

How you made it this far, you tainted scrap of humanity, I haven’t a clue.
Shouldn’t you have died off with the seven-legged mud crabs and trilobites?


You’re scum.
You’re worse than malaria.

Exile would be too kind.
What you deserve is incineration.

Death by massive fire-blasting until your hair crisps and skin curdles.

Your blackened crust will feed the urchins,
and any fortune you and your wretched ilk
will sink into the murky mire of obscurity.


When each of you swine meet your demises, I will dance and sing.


bravery falls in the dead of night

When silent lay the caterwauls and wails
and deathly faint drop foot-falls ‘cross the floor
our hero dwells on all that quest entails
and once again he contemplates the door.

The lock secure, the wood and screws and nails,
could they withstand a battle-axe, or more?
Could they hold up when enemies assail?
The thoughts of dread he cannot help explore

The pondering which daily makes him strong,
the fear which powers blood through heart and veins,
when twilight falls upon with heavy clout
all courage sung about in epic song
is gone away as light from day-time wanes
and hero’s mask of courage is cast out.

sniper attack

how horrific would it be, think I
to see a man fall dead before you
a hole, dark and bleeding, in his chest
all of a sudden

no sound
so strike

welcome to a sniper attack
the time when we all run
for our lives
in fear of the unknown
the nameless, the soundless
reigning down from
God knows where
and, in time, we hope
that back and white
will wash away the pain
of this moment