A Little Slice of Death

We fall, drift, slip

The unknown journey through sleep

I wish I could remember

I wish I could forget

And fall, drift and slip

To dream and wander through that dimension that feels so real it must be fake

I want to sleep and dream of homes I only half know and speak to people long gone

To fall, drift and slip

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The Ink is Alive

spilled inkIt spills from my pen
It spills from my mind
And it’s alive

These words have a heartbeat
And it’s bleeding
I can taste these words in my mouth
As the ink drips from my hand

They stick in my throat
So I write them down
Choking on adjectives
And vomiting verbs

With a life of their own
They crawl
They breathe life into a dead relationship
And I’m left to mourn alone

Ink stained hands
Out dammed spot!
My hands are never clean
These words are still hot

~ Moxie McMurder

 

The Axeman of New Orleans

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Play the right song and save your skin
The Axeman is out tonight

A head rests upon a pillow
Another’s swims with melodies
Mixed with dark desires
Dreams of blood red tragedies

It must have been quite a sight
Taken out by your own axe
This side of midnight
The Axeman is out tonight

With trembling hands
The people of New Orleans pull back the curtains

Keeping watch for the demon from hottest hell
Who would be his next victim?
There was no way to tell
The Axeman is out tonight

His footsteps echo along lonely streets
Looking for a backdoor to break

When the steel of the axe hits bone
And shatters the life from its home
His smile shines in the moonlight
The Axeman is out tonight

Who is this man? This monster? This ghost?
Who sneaks into homes and murders the host
Who disappears each evening, into the night
The Axeman is out tonight

By Moxie McMurder