THE DARK FOREST

• strike

Come and visit us.
Follow the line of trees.
Where does it lead?
Deep into a forest.
Down a dark road.
Ignore the moans and screams.
They are just animals.
A pack of wild dogs are howling.
They love people.
It is safe for you to walk into the forest.
Don’t look back.
Face forward and walk.
Soon you’ll be reaching your destination.
Be prepared for anything.
Don’t be afraid. 
A party at the deserted End House 
is waiting for you. 
And so are The Dead. 

THE DEAD GAME

NOUNOUS--THE IMPATIENT MALTESE

My favorite picture of my Maltese, Nounous.
He is waiting for my daughter

to come home from New York City.
The train whistles.

He searches for the train.
He waits impatiently by the car window.
The train pulls into the station. 

The doors pass by, one by one.

They are moving too fast for him 

to see his beloved friend.
The train stops.
The doors open.
He sees her.
He howls, 

pawing at the window.
He is still not sure.
He's waiting for her to walk closer.
She stops beside the car window 

and shouts,"Nounous I'm home."
He jumps up and down, 

woofing with joy.
She is home. 

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OCEAN DEEP

OCEAN DEEP

Cover me with your cold arms,

A baby blanket of softness.

Take me down under your waves,

Where the world glows a bluish green.

Life swirls by in colors of the rainbow,

Filled with creatures swimming free.

A harmony of constant movement,

Following the slow tempo of the deep.

CHANDELIER

CRYSTAL CHANDELIER

Crystal chandelier of mine.

How you do sparkle and shine.

Bringing back memories long gone

When life hadn’t been so far gone.

Remember the parties we used to host?

Fancy guests arriving from coast to coast.

Music and laughter were the rules of the day.

But now all that are left are the bills to pay.

THE DEAD ARE COMING

An Outstanding Gothic Horror Paranormal Novel!

By Howard Lipman 

February 24, 2015 

Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase 

A beachfront town, a haunted mansion, people disappearing or turning up dead–these are the elements of gothic horror, but this unique novel has a more than a few twists. The writing is first-rate,  and the pace is fast. The characters are well-defined, and the plot is imaginative and unpredictable. Linda, Shana, Logan, Todd and others are plagued by the town’s original residents, old family secrets, and more. All kinds of paranormal manifestations  beset the characters. Poe and H.P. Lovecraft would have been proud to have written this novel. From an opulent mansion to a paranormal haunted horror, End House takes the town of Oasis down a frightening path. The mysterious black paper invitations to a party at End House advertising ‘Mysteries to solve’ and ‘Games to Play’ took both the characters and this reader’s imagination on a fascinating journey (review by Howard Lipman, pen name PanOrpheus, author of the ‘Delphic Oracle’ and ‘Tesla’s Tower’ books)

THE LIGHTHOUSE

“Come back to me my sweet.

Take a break from the heat.

An afternoon in a cool retreat.

We could make our own special heat.”

The wood door rattles and creaks open wide.

I hesitate before I walk inside.

The small room is as dark as night.

I begin to tremble with fright.

Maybe I should leave this place.

The door slams shut in my face.

I hear the voice in the air

Telling me, “what fair is fair.”

I intruded on this secret room

And so I won’t be leaving too soon.

THE BOOK

THE BOOK

Please take a closer look.

Something’s wrong with this book.

The words have come alive,

Breaking free to survive.

Words need to be loved and shared

And not forced alone and scared.

Let the stories come out and play.

They will serve to brighten your day.

SOLITUDE

SOLITUDE 



A rare commodity is solitude.
It can be easily misunderstood.
To be all alone with no one else around.
You can do this in the air or on the ground.
You can sail off in the blue sea,
Or hop on a plane without me.
We can all use some time alone.
Without T.V. or telephone.
Time to think about your goal.
You will come back feeling whole.

A LITTLE COLOR

ADD A LITTLE COLOR 

Add a little color to the picture.
It won’t need to be still as a fixture. 
Add some flowers and some fun
Until the picture is done.

Black and white might be good for some.
I enjoy yellow like the sun.
Other colors might work as well
And make the picture look as swell.

The painting could use strokes of brightness.
It doesn’t need to dwell in such darkness.
Take a step back to see your masterpiece.
It will bring you much contentment and peace. 

MY SECRET

MY SECRET 

Sprinkle my path with pretty leaves and flowers.
I want to look at water and not towers.
Some color to brighten my day.
A place where the birds come to play.

I will walk to the end of the pier.
I’ll gaze into the depths without fear.
For I will only see fish swimming by.
And not any monsters lurking nearby.

Time will pass slowly and must be savored.
Whoever comes this way will be favored.
I think it’s only prudent and fair
To share my secret with those who care.

DANGLING HORROR

DANGLING HORROR

It dangles before me.

A horror to be felt.

All consuming.

Almost tasted.

Walls closing in.

Becoming a coffin.

My fears circle round.

Waiting to be unleashed.

Darkness holds me in place.

Stiff as a corpse.

A tiny dot of light.

Showing me the way.

A peek at my tormentor.

A glimpse of hell.

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

TO BE OR NOT TO BE

To be or not to be a writer.
This has been the hardest question for me.
Should I continue with my pursuit?
Or step away and claim defeat?
One book written.
One book sold.
It dances around on Amazon and Nook.
It reaches new heights in its niche
And then it slowly bows its head in silence.
The highs feel good and lofty,
While the lows feel depressing and sad.
Is it worth it? 
Is it worth the aggravation?
I am told that a writer must keep writing.
More books to dance around.
More highs and lows.
Should I keep doing this?
Will I keep doing this? 
Yes, for now
As I wait for the next high. 

WE ARE ONE!

Monuments around the world light up in France's colors in honor of the dozens killed and wounded in the Paris attacks Friday, Nov. 13, 2015.

WE ARE ONE!

WE ARE ONE!

KILL ME NOW

killedtheinnocentpeople:

Untitled by Joe Kennett.

KILL ME NOW

A walk through the greenhouse

on a sunny afternoon.

Darkness soon falls on the dense copse of trees,

covering us with its inky shadow.

Rustling sounds echo from within the foliage,

followed by sighs and moans.

The trees begin moving,

their leaves striking us in a quick tempo.

We're surrounded.

Are the trees moving on their own?

The trees are coming alive!

Alive with The Dead.

Just kill me now.

THE DEAD GAME

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