Horror Author
for the fairest
my dear sweet lady
only you
have made me happy
happy in ways
i cannot describe
your beauty is seen
by the all-seeing eye
i’ll love you forever
more than the rest
it’s worth burning in Hell
to avenge your death
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
I sat alone
At home on
My couch when
I heard it
Knock, knock, knock
No one stood
At the door
It meant something
I had forgotten
So I searched
Three knocks meant
A bad omen
Someone will die
You hear stories
But never think
All of it
Could be real
Six weeks later
My roommate’s mother
Passed away in
A hospital bed
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
In this digital age
There’s a new kind
Of censorship –
It always starts
With words –
The hashtag
A symbol of
A searchable category
Some hashtags are blocked
Others have a disclaimer
Hashtags are only words –
And they’re telling us
What words we can
Or cannot use –
I’m using the banned words
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
James Pack 