Horror Author
through the night we shall ride
seeking imperfection
the purpose of our lives
to commence dissection
with our dark piercing eyes
we see your infection
the shrieking of your cries
will fuel our intentions
our never-ending drive
ensures your destruction
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
Today is extra wacky with all the things we have to talk about. Our first word for the day is a noun with an unusual meaning. Yarborough is a term used in card games like bridge or whist referring to a hand with no ace and no card higher than nine. It is said to be named after an Earl of Yarborough, who bet 1000 to one against the occurrence of such a hand. Zoanthropy, another noun, is a monomania in which a person believes they have changed into an animal and act like one. This is similar to lycanthropy where someone believes they are a werewolf.
For our holidays today, there are so many. There are several which fall only on the second Wednesday of the month; National Curves Day recognizing plus sized women and men, National Emergency Nurse’s Day, National Bring Your Teddy Bear to Work/School Day, and National Stop Bullying Day. The Wednesday of the second full week of October is National Fossil Day. Today is also National Dessert Day, Be Bald and Be Free Day celebrating people rocking the no hair look, and National Take Your Parents to Lunch Day. That’s a lot of things to celebrate but I have faith in all of you. But let’s be honest the most exciting celebration is fossils. Who doesn’t like fossils?
This laugh it did consume my thoughts
The sound echoed everywhere
But I never could find the source
Something told me the laugh was real
I feared I would never find proof
I woke one night sweating – panting –
A night terror I often had
I sensed someone was in my room
The lights revealed only silence
Was this laughter all in my head?
Months passed and I ignored the sound
I had almost forgotten it
When I first saw the laughing man
A grin as wide as an ocean
His was always the laugh I heard
He followed me everywhere
I thought no one else heard his noise
But he was there and he was real
I confronted him one dark night
He bit a chunk out of my neck
Then I became your laughing man
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.
James Pack 