Poems by Mark Bragg
Another edition to October Stories, poetry by Mark Bragg.
Hallow's Eve
Tonight, tonight the pagans come out to play
Tonight, tonight the ghouls come out to stay
Samhain, Samhain
Tonight the streets
Are filled with feet
The children line up one by one
To feed the sacred, ancient one
Trick or treat?
Sweet to eat
Sugar-coated carrion
He roams the earth from dusk to dawn
Samhain, Samhain
Jet black eyes and gnashing teeth
Samhain, Samhain
We run for fun
on Hallow's Eve
I Am Legion
I am a bed bug.
I infiltrate your life slowly and quietly in hopes that you never define me as the reason you fall apart violently.
I am a succubus.
While you're seething and screaming and panting and creaming, I'm eating and feeding and dreaming of succeeding in draining your being.
I am fear.
When you're walking at night and feel fright to the sight of movement of light in the corner of your eye and become aware that you're alive and don't want that to end tonight.
I am darkness.
All-surrounding and sounding of nothing when your mind is buzzing and you're huffing and puffing and reaching for something, but you're pushing and shoving every person who you've known to be loving.
I am consequence.
Of every mistake that you made when the days weren't all pain and you remained on the straight and the light bent your way, but you pushed away every saint who got in your way.
I am the cause of all your problems.
I am the finger you point to blame.
I am the awful and the awesome.
I am the shame that's in your name.
I am the break that's in your fate line.
I am the silver lining you refuse to see.
I am the start and the end of time.
I am you and you are me.
There's a bookmark for every chapter.
A character you've come to be.
A voice for every falter.
A part of me you wanted to be.
The voice you've had since birth.
It's trapped inside and fading.
But you're filled to the brim with mirth
From the new voices saying
"We are legion, for we are many."
The Awakening
In the beginning there was nothing,
Darkness filled the void.
You've heard this one a thousand times,
But there's a twist to the story,
Some additions to the great divide.
God or chance, creature or man,
you decide the power that be,
But you can't deny the facts of life.
There was only nothing
In the farthest corners of everything
Until the explosions created light.
Six days God created, evermore been at rest.
Man knew love, disobeyed, then came hate.
Theta created Mest, then man became a mess.
Theory of evolution or creation, constant debate.
The pattern of who we are versus what we were forever remains.
But there are secrets we keep hidden
Just beyond reach, through a locked door.
When life shown its light upon the emptiness
The darkness found refuge to fester and deplore
At everything the light touches until its life is drained.
For thousands of years what's hidden has been quiet,
Forgotten, forbidden, foreboding, and forsaken.
Until the great wars that man worships cleared the playing field.
In a trap door in Venice, in the depths of the earth, the great darkness awakens.
Ghost in the Window
There's a ghost in the window
I see its silhouette through the blinds
A dangling depiction
Of what lies on the other side
Some nights when I can't sleep
I catch him smiling at me
And it's comforting to know
That we are not alone
There's a slow creaking of a closet door
When I'm on the edge of unconscious
A rustle of plastic bags
To let us know we are haunted
There's a knocking on our roof
I've yet to find the reason for
But I like to think they're friendly spirits
Who can't find the front door
A long, late night
With next to no rest
Because my mind wanders
From my
body and it's nest
Dying Breed
Living dead girl
With the bouncy brown curls
And dirty blue jeans,
Yeah, you know what that means.
Milky white skin,
Glossy green eyes.
Tell me how long,
How long ago did you die?
Suicidal girl,
Queen of my underworld.
With or without blood in my veins,
It's all the same.
My heart would beat for you.
Yeah, my heart would beat for you.
The blood on your clothes
Says you dressed to kill.
The afterlife holds
Your kind of thrill.
You ripped out my heart,
Death couldn't do us part.
Suicidal girl,
Queen of my underworld.
With or without blood in my veins,
It's all the same.
My heart would beat for you,
Yeah, my
heart would beat for you.
For the Sake of Murder, For the Love of Death
Can we pretend you're not murder solidified,
And I'm not just a reaper of death in disguise?
Then maybe just tonight we could finally rise
And end the world now, before the sunrise.
So won't you take your namesake, put me to rest
A blade to my throat or a gun to my chest,
And I'll play my part as your marionette.
Loosen my strings and bring me to death.
No, I don't mean this sadly, dry your acid tears.
We can live on gladly for eternal years
On the other side of the great unknown.
This skin's just too stretched, I'm far overgrown.
The destiny that's in store is ours now to make.
So grab your pitchforks and your fires and rakes,
For tonight there's a riot way deep down inside,
And it only makes sense that we dance tonight.
So can we pretend, murder, you're not justified
And that I, as death, am a being glorified.
And it only makes sense that we dance tonight.
It only makes sense that we dance 'til we die.
Bio:
"Mark Bragg is a writer, artist, poet, lover, father, student, comic book connoisseur, and horror enthusiast. He tends to stick to the sidelines but you'll often hear him cracking jokes to bring a smile to the people around him. Mark has been writing poetry since he was a teenager, using it as a coping mechanism to overcome loss and grief. These days most of his writing is intended to be put into an album that he swears will be recorded one day.
Mark is a self-published poet of four poetry collections, three of which are available through Amazon. His newest book, Love and Curses: Selected Poems, features artwork by the talented Heather Howard."
