I’m at camp mom….send me treats…they don’t have shit here..
NaNoWriMo starts for me TODAY!
October has passed…as well as my Halloween Poem Challenge of 30 Scary poems in 30 days, of which I think I accomplished very nicely….if I may say so – as he pats himself on the back – thank you very much
NOW, I don’t want to write any new poems anytime soon…especially any Halloween or Dark Fantasy based ones…I’m kinda burned out on them and all…
SO you won’t see any poems here for awhile.
What you may see is me ranting about a new event I am participating in which STARTS TODAY!
Its called NaNoWriMo or National Novel Writing Month….that’s write (intended typo here) you have to write a NOVEL , or more precisely 50,000 words in the month of NOVEMBER.
By hook or by crook, to meet the CHALLENGE you must finish before the stroke of midnight at the very end of the month 11:59 pm Nov 30. 30 DAYS!!! 50,000 Words – THAT”S IT! PENCILS DOWN CLASS! NO CHEATING!
SO, if YOU yourself are interested go check out the official blog for it at : http://nanowrimo.org
Really there is really not much more to it than that…just write, write, write,,,,till your fingers bleed….THAT’s A LOT of FUCKING WRITING In a MONTH. Well for me it is anyways.
You see I have this little thing called my real job which actually pays the bills which takes up about 10hrs out of my day Monday through Friday. (thanks god I have my weekends free). And then there’s sleep…we all gotta sleep right…right? (crickets sounds ensue)
So I’m left with not much time…Boo fucking Whoo! (see I’m already ranting about it. It’s not gonna be a pretty month for me I’m afraid. I don’t handle deadlines very well…
BUT THAT is PRECISELY WHY I AM DOING THIS!
To teach me that this is what FUCKING real writers do….they write, and write, and write, and then write some more.
So I am giving myself a good reality check and slap on the head…a WAKE the FUCK UP intervention to tell myself and to ask myself, and to challenge myself to get serious about this thing called writing or SHUT the FUCK UP!
I seem to being giving a lot of FUCKS today….I tend to do that when I’m self motivating.
Wish me luck. I think I will be changed person after this, GOOD OR BAD, I do not know…but a changed person nonetheless.
TaTa…I’m going down the rabbit hole now…
Glady’s and the Bat – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge- Poem #30
Glady’s and the Bat
Glady’s was an adventurous girl
prone to fits of dangerous
distraction.
A faired hair maiden.
Fair of mind as well, a simple girl.
but strong of will.
And will it seems, goes a long way in the land of scary make believe.
as you will see.
For a creature existed at the highest of heights
who dwelt in a dark, dark cave of the evilest intent and might
At night this foul creature swooped and dove, and dove and swooped
into the quaint little village where Glady’s did dwell,
Shrieking as it flew, it carried off poor villagers from out of their beds.
The town had dwindled down next to nothing under it’s
never ending onslaught of nightly terror and dread.
Left now, were only Glady’s, the ice cream maker,
the pastor, and poor old widow Lady Albright
to be found in the town at next sundown.
“I shall face this demon,” Gladys told the others calmly.
“Very well, do what you must, but leave us be,” Lady Albright intoned.
“Oh, simple child,” the ice cream maker only said.
“I give you my protection,” the pastor simply said, as he looked to the heavens.
Gladys boldly walked into the square at twilight while the others peeked
at her from the safety of their bedrooms.
Sweaty palms held tight to her late father’s sword,
now rusted and pitted but still sharp and keen of edge.
A flutter of wings sounded in the distant as
a dark shadow descended.
A flit of nothing flew over Gladys and beyond her.
A crash of glass, and a scream ripped the night as
poor Lady Abright was plucked from bed and covers.
Her tortuous wail faded into the dark clouds as
the creature escaped back to its lair.
“We must go after her!” Gladys told the others
“Are you daft dear girl, we would surely die!” the cream maker wailed.
“Her fate was already written I am afraid.” said the pastor knowingly
Looking to them both, her eyes narrowed in quiet consternation.
Then an AHA! moment entered her wee brain.
“Next time he comes I have a plan,” she said quietly.
The moon fell and the sun rose and then the moon rose
again as the next night came.
“I don’t see how this will help, we shall all surely die.
I am the most important can’t you see? ” the pastor intoned.
They all stood clutching each other together tied tight with rough braided
rope at the waist in the middle of the street,
“Are you not assured of your safety through your piety? What’s there
to fear for you?” she smiled slyly.
The ice cream maker shook in his place and simply held tight to his
tub of cream that he had been told to bring.
A shriek preceded it’s shadow as it decended.
Talons clutched and pulled, grabbing the pastor
Yet the pastor did not budge, the weight being too great.
“Hold, monster!” Glady’s yelled.
“Is it blood you seek? I have something sweeter,”
Glady’s grabbed the tub of cream, popped the top
and plunged her hand in deep.
She then slathered the good pastor from head to
toe.
“Go ahead have a bite” Gladys said
The creature landed,
Black fur, big ears, wings ending in talons,
Teeth white, sharp and long,
Eyes wide and mad approached on spindly legs.
It looked at them each, and slowly full in the eye.
“Sweeeeeeeeeeeet!” it said sniffing the air.
Then bit into the pastor deep.
The pastor squeaked then died.
The dark bat licked the dead pastor clean.
“Mooooore!” it simply said
So Gladys gave him more.
And more, and more.
Now her and the creamer
share a house and keep the cream
well stocked.
As her and her pet bat go
on many a midnight walk.
by Philip Wardlow
Creepy – 30day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #29
Creepy –
I bet I can creep you out in some small way…:)
What exactly are you scared of?
You sitting there, looking at your screen reading this.
A thousand things in nature perhaps may be just around
the corner. Waiting to meet you.
Be it man, an animal, a deformed creature or the unholiest of holies
in the night.
Some DO exist, and some may exist. You don’t really know for sure if they don’t.
It’s a big creepy world out there with big creepy things in it.
Do you need to go to the bathroom? Have a sit on the toilet.
Try not to look down and imagine something slowly crawling through the pipe
into your business. Is that the sound of very small teeth?
What’s your number? And is it up tonight?
You can probably say no. BUT you could be dead before the morn.
Singled out by that leery eyed little man down the street,
that’s taken a fancy to those beautiful feet.
He must have them for his collection you know…he must.
Oh, you’re at a party amongst your closest friends?
So you’re safe…sure, sure, no worries. He’ll wait.
Check your car, check your closet, check under the bed.
that’s where I would hide If I wanted you dead.
What’s that tickle in your throat?
What’s that rumble in your belly?
Something kicking and crawling to get out?
Now how did that find it’s way in? Perhaps through
your belly button.
Well after all, it is Halloween my friend.
by Philip Wardlow
Stingy Jack – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #28
Good Old Jack,
walks in the twilight between our world and what you would
call the other.
Into the out of, on paths that only he can see
with Fool’s Fire held in a hand-carved gourd to light his way.
A Ne’er-do-well if ever their was.
Cursed to wander the earth.
Never to know heaven or hell.
You may see his spook light bob in a graveyard or two as you pass,
especially on All Hallows Eve and on through to all Souls Day.
Wise men say, Old Jack’s looking for a way into heaven or hell
on such nights as these when the veil is thin.
If you see him, it’s best to keep on walking.
He has anger in him, a deep abiding bitterness swells.
like the ebb and flow of time that has trapped him.
He will have no hesitation to collect your soul should
you cross his path.
So beware or you may find yourself dead or a mindless
freak.
by Philip Wardlow
Life in Death – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge- Poem#27
Death appreciates life , just as life appreciates death.
Both are impartial to the other.
A cold touch caresses the
beauty which flits to and fro
with seemingly
chaotic intention.
How are we are to interpret the horrors of this vitality
when we ourselves are trapped in a purgatory
of our own design?
Perhaps a small light
shall lead the way for each of us
in our final hours as we lay
in our deep dark
grave.
By Philip Wardlow
Art with a Twist of Horror
Triad of Horror in Haikus – 30 Day Halloween Poem Challenge – Poem #24,25,26
from old to young hands gladly
to cut future fates.
Tracks of misfortune follow
feline on the prowl.
Big eyes, sharp teeth, wicked smile
Waiting for a hug
Haunted House – 30 Day Halloween Challenge Poem #23
In my youth,
on a dare, I walked up the crumbling steps to a dilapidated house.
Why? Because I was bold, fearless, and a little
touched in the head.
I pushed at the door,
The hinges squealed like the tortuous squeals
of pain inflicted a hundredfold.
My two friends stood there in the front yard like tall petrified blades of grass,
looking on, probably wondering how far I would take their dare.
“Go inside,” they said “and say Trick-or-Treat.”
So I had went, to the dark threshold to the
mouth of a house, said to have seen murder and mayhem
many years hence.
Then I did cross to the inside.
All was quiet.
Darkness advanced through the windows as
the sun finally set behind the dead trees outside.
Tattered curtains fluttered as the wind flowed
through broken panes of glass.
I was sure time had slowed. I had entered another dimension,
stepped into the netherworld where only ghosts lived.
Yet I felt no fear…only a calm curiosity to see
what might happen next.
Footfalls fell upon the floorboards, almost
skipping as if in play.
A little girl’s laughter filled my ears
as my bag of candy was pulled from my grasp.
“Trick or Treat?” I asked, already knowing the
answer to my question was both.
She materialized before me, munching on
a piece candy she had found in my bag.
I watched, mesmerized as I saw the contents of
the candy go down her throat through the opaqueness
that encompassed her form.
“No taste” she said sadly to no one.
Her eyes turned dark, reflecting a lonliness
compiled in a century of misery in this dank
forgotten home.
“Take this.” I said, handing her my sword and pirate hat.
“Happy Halloween, for tonight is your night…” I whispered.
She smiled a devlish grin and bowed, returning my
bag of candy back to me.
“A treat indeed.” she said, laughing
and swinging her pirate sword,
lost in her world of make believe
as she slowly dissolved away.
I smiled a secret smile as I walked
down the steps to my friends,
and began to tell them of
my encounter they would
never really believe.
by Philip Wardlow
Missing her….
Yeah, I’m overly dramatic….so what…:)
One more day until she gets on a plane…
Hope you had lots of fun though babe.
Stay safe…and watch out for the monkeys….damn monkeys.
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 