Portrait Sculpture Photography by Brno Del Zou
The pieces.
Eyes.
Nose.
Mouth.
Ears.
Don’t add up.
They refuse to mold.
Separate pieces.
Undefined.
They need a purpose.
Unity.
A soul.
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
SHINE DOWN ON US
Shine down on us.
Give us warmth.
Hope.
Our faces to the sky
To receive your light
Through the clouds,
In the darkest nights.
Give us hope.
FOLLOW THE CURIOUS
FOLLOW THE CURIOUS
The cobblestones glisten
under the moonlight.
Gravestones peek out
in the heavy fog.
Moans sweep the winds
that rustle the lifeless trees.
A gate stands open
to welcome the curious.
Footsteps draw closer
to my hiding place.
A cloaked figure enters
the home of the dead.
It disappears inside a mausoleum
with a lone angel standing guard.
Goosebumps riddle my body
as I inch forward from my spot.
I can’t stand the suspense.
I must find the meeting place
of the dead and gone.
THE DEAD GAME
Kindle
Nook
WHITE BLANKET OF SNOW
WHITE BLANKET OF SNOW
The snow is falling.
Flakes float to the ground.
A hush falls across the city.
Few cars dare to brave the roads.
Too soon for building snowmen.
Footsteps have yet to marr
The white surface.
A white blanket.
Sparkling clean.
The city is refreshed.
Its sins covered.
A rebirth.
FREE AT LAST
anthony-samaniego
lake bear big
FREE AT LAST
Slow is the course of your waves.
Colors of the deep lie by my feet.
Your soothing laps bring me peace.
I must swim out to see whom I meet.
Your cold envelopes my stiff body.
Soon I am immersed in your cocoon.
I dive down deep below the surface.
I won’t be returning all too soon.
Trying to outrun my demons,
I swim faster from the shore.
I leave behind my enemies.
I don’t need them anymore.
I’m free at last from my problems
As I stroke hard away from humanity.
No one is waiting for me back home.
I’m free to float away for eternity.
WHO SITS THERE?
Source: slobbering
WHO SITS THERE?
Who sits there in the darkness?
No movement in the blackness.
As still as a fox waiting to pounce.
No hint of a ruffle or a flounce.
A soft sigh can be heard in the air.
Are those slithering snakes in her hair?
Shadows coast along with the circling dust.
The walls trickle with blood or maybe rust.
The ghostly form stands up to meet us.
She can be the hostess to greet us.
A deserted house this seems to be.
She hovers over us like a tree.
We stand alone in this bleak hall.
There won’t be dancing at this ball.
All the candles go dark.
This was a silly lark.
Time to leave this creepy place.
We must quicken our slow pace.
But since this is a horror story.
We won’t be leaving soon with glory.
Monday, October 30, 2017
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Monday, October 23, 2017
Author, Susanne Leist – #RRBC
Author, Susanne Leist – #RRBC
Please visit my Author Booth on RRBC” Writers Conference Book Expo!
Author, Susanne Leist –
Source: Author, Susanne Leist – #RRBC
Author, Susanne Leist – #RRBC
Door prizes: e-book copies of “THE DEAD GAME” (4 Winners)
Bio:
I have always loved to read. I grew up with Agatha Christie, Alistair Maclean and many other authors who filled my imagination with intrigue and mystery. The TV show, Murder She Wrote, kept me entertained when I was not reading late into the night.
Over the years, my taste in books has expanded to include the supernatural and paranormal genres as reflected in my selection of shows, such as Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries, and The Originals.
Over the years, my taste in books has expanded to include the supernatural and paranormal genres as reflected in my selection of shows, such as Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries, and The Originals.
My first book, The Dead Game, is a paranormal suspense/mystery. It brings fantasy and the surreal to the simple murder mystery. It has dead bodies and suspects. However, it also has vampires, vampire derivatives, and a touch of romance to spice up the mix.
***
“THE DEAD GAME”
The Dead Game by Susanne Leist
***
SCAVENGER HUNT Clue: Which RWISA Member put a P in Silent?
PUPPET
areyou-stillawake
Puppet Master 2 (1991)
Puppet Master 2 (1991)
I wake from a deep sleep.
I look across the room.
To a shelf high up.
A puppet sits there.
Its head pops up.
The head spins around.
It can’t be real.
A wooden puppet can’t be alive.
Then it speaks.
In a deep voice.
“Time to play,” it says.
I run to the door.
No!
It’s standing before me.
Taller than me.
Arms reaching for me.
A gleam in its black eyes.
It can’t be.
But it is.
It’s alive.
THE OTHER SIDE
THE OTHER SIDE
What’s on the other side?
Don’t be afraid or hide.
What will you see?
Will you be free?
Don’t be afraid or hide.
What will you see?
Will you be free?
Color replaces black.
But watch your friend’s back.
Night creatures out for fun.
In the Florida sun.
But watch your friend’s back.
Night creatures out for fun.
In the Florida sun.
Mansions to explore.
Parties and much more.
One step at a time.
And follow this rhyme.
Parties and much more.
One step at a time.
And follow this rhyme.
And soon you will be there.
Who knew it was so near?
Who knew it was so near?
THE DEAD GAME
CASCADING WAVES
Source: zoiodlula
The waves cascade forth.
Carrying their baggage to shore.
Debris of lives gone by.
Muted colors of the pink sky.
Seaweed tickles my toes.
Shells crunch beneath my heels.
A display of humanity.
Sprinkles through my hand.
GALLOP FREE
coffeenuts
Mozart I by Wiebke Haas –
Mozart I by Wiebke Haas –
Let’s rock with the night.
Toss our manes free.
Gallop to the beat.
Of the music of the night.
IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT
Source: parallaxwallpapers
The house sits alone.
Night after night.
Ghosts in its walls.
Demons below its floors.
It waits for the night.
When the moon bleeds red.
Nature becomes silent.
And shadows walk tall.
Lights shine through its windows.
Sounds creep up from its basement.
We’ve come to play.
In The Dead of night.
THE DEAD GAME
THE WAVES
superbnature
Golden Hour by willyam http://ift.tt/2aItg9O
Golden Hour by willyam http://ift.tt/2aItg9O
THE WAVES
Lined up like sentries.
Shoulder to shoulder.
Eying the shore.
Storm at their backs.
Wind at their sides.
Sun setting above.
Sea ripples below.
Sky darkens.
Clouds rush in.
Birds flee.
Skies open up.
Water rains down.
Quiet reigns supreme.
They quicken their tempo.
Winds pick up their speed.
They hit the sand with force.
A line of soldiers.
Shoulder to shoulder.
As one.
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