Lovecraft

Chimera Poetry

lovecraftbook

Sinuous tentacles embrace and applaud
what men never deigned to recognize
while you were awake and walked among us
but cream rises to the top eventually
and the plaintive calls fading in the night
are finally heard
too late
too late
living on in dreams of one sort or another
weird tales and the sideways reality
where elder gods reside
and the thing on the doorstep bobs and weaves…
do your burning eyes glisten
as we bow low in veneration?
homage paid, however long overdue
declared without dissent
and name you master.

©jayetomas2013

 

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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