Painting By Numbers

Simply can’t resist re-posting this dark little piece, gave me chills!

WovenEclipse

#49

 

The decaying stool has one

Wonky

Leg.

She teeters and

Totters

Left          to          right

Staring d

o

w

n

At the razor in her hand.

#81

The marrow leaks out

Seeping between bony fingers

The broken rib

Still held up high

Something to examine

In solemn disquietude.

#99

 

In a classroom devoid

Of all life.

She carves abhorrent words

Into the crucified desk.

It’s simply too late

To realise

The marks are ingrained

On her bloody thighs.

Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Sherratt

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Elder Lilith

An amazingly rich and beautiful poem by danceswithtricksters! Well worth a first and second read!

Dances with Tricksters

Her face is a blue stain under gold gilt
hair like a raven, eyes like sorrow,
Lilith is in mourning, night-madness
the paintings refract her deathliness
spilling out like shards of mirror
you could get lost in her thick tangles
you could drown in those ocean irises
Lilith is not sweet – she’s all musk,
quietness, bone-hunger, we break.

I drag my scythe through her canvas
smatter the thousand broken pieces
the crowd breaks and screams, runs,
I am all fury, a woman enraged
at the ghost of a demoness, taunted
by Babylon, yet I am the Whore
what I see in her is what I hate
what I see in her is me broken
what I see in her is me insane.

Did Samael or Adam drive her mad?
Did the triple angel’s harshness,
the slaughter of her children,
she bleeds each night with new life
she births wickedness…

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Cover Reveal: Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault by Candace Robinson

I am super excited to offer you this cover reveal by lola’s blog tours!

 

Today is the cover reveal for Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault by Candace Robinson. This cover reveal is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours. The cover is designed by Jenny @ Seedlings Design Studio: http://www.seedlingsonline.com/

Quinsey Wolfes Glass Vault

 

Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault

By Candace Robinson

Genre: Urban Fantasy/ Horror

Age category: Upper YA

Release Date: May 16, 2017

 

Blurb:

Some see it… Some don’t…

 

People in the town of Deer Park, Texas are vanishing. There is a strange museum, known as Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault, that appears overnight. Perrie Madeline’s best friend and ex-boyfriend are among the missing.  Perrie, along with her friend August, go on a pursuit to search for them in the mysterious museum. Could the elusive Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault have anything to do with their disappearances?

 

You can find Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34511974-quinsey-wolfe-s-glass-vault

 

You can pre-order Quinsey Wolfe’s Glass Vault here:

– Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Quinsey-Wolfes-Glass-Candace-Robinson-ebook/dp/B06XR44W6M/

Candace Robinson

Day

Here’s a beautifully haunting poem about the end of the world, by Eyepluswords! Check out their awesome blog for tons more poetry!

Eyes + Words

Written by Jacob Ibrag

‘Please state your full name,’ and so you

do. ‘Can you tell us today’s date?’ Staring out the

window, you shake your head no. ‘Do you practice any

religion?’ You expose the tattoo on the right side of your rib

cage, ‘maybe I did, I think I used to.’ They ask to take a picture.

You let them. ‘Where were you?’ You scratch the back of yourleft

hand and talk about the ink shop that was owned by a man with

two heads. ‘No. Where were you when the sun left?’ You take in

their question and throw a quick grin, ‘there was a funeral.

The family couldn’t afford a decent casket, soa couple

of friends chipped in. The day the Sun divorced

the Earth, I woke up from my death.’


Photography by Alex Stoddard

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Meditating with the Swans

The Sixpence at Her Feet

Quite frankly, Sister Madly had never seen the Professor run so fast; it made her think that she should be running as well.

How it happened she cannot say, but somehow Sister Madly found herself tagging along with the PhD’s for a round of golf- or, as the Professors like to call it, meditation, thus disguising a form of inhumane torture as a spiritual practice.

Well, Sister Madly was getting spiritual, too- and by that, she means adding shots of Fireball to her cider. You see, Sister Madly hasn’t had interest in meditating ever since she sold her soul back when she need some quick cash. As she now prefers the transcendental practice of throwing chicken claws at random strangers to golf, the world is starting to realized that Sister Madly has been living with a cheap, knockoff soul for several years. It’s much like discovering your sweetheart has pawned…

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