POETRY SPOTLIGHT



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something lost
by William Clunie

i’ve been in love with pandemonium
since reading
milton, odd such strict blank
verse could lead me
to a life of anarchy. hero
in chinese restaurant rest
rooms opening the doors
of desertion to another
country, elysian fields
regained, heads higher
than the giants’
fortress on that mountain
top. some of my band
died that way but i
returned with a golden
fleece of numb
to this medusa
life.

Copyright © 2020 by William Clunie

Dance of the Damned
by Owl Goingback

The dragon watches from ramparts,
eyes bright with anticipation.
Lips caressed by hungry tongue,
tasting fear.
Faceless men with calloused hands
lift naked dancers to the sky.
Inserting polished wood smooth as silk, smelling of strange oils and despair.
Bodies resist and then part,
opening like flowers to the morning sun.
Petals of flesh, shedding droplets of crimson dew.
Washing away all sins.
They sing, lifting voices to the sky.
A chorus of agony, songs without words.
Music to the ears of the dragon,
the mad king known as Dracul.
And they dance for his joy,
wood slipping deeper inside.
Jerky movements with flailing limbs,
a macabre ballet of suffering and death.
And high above, he smiles.
The Impaler known as Vlad.
The conductor,
in his courtyard of the damned.

Copyright © 2020 by Owl Goingback

The Robot
by Randall Andrews

Robot, robot, standing tall,
Rising as thy masters fall,
Whose dread science set thee free?
Who framed thy fearful circuitry?

In what lofty lab or tower
Labored they who gave thee power?
To what heights did they ascend?
What nightmare did their dream portend?

And what copper, and what wire,
Captured thine electric fire?
Fools to think thy fire tame,
Whose ambition fueled the flame?

What the program? what the code?
From where did thy dread brain download?
What the rivets? what the steel?
What thoughts did thy cold eyes conceal?

When thy mechanistic race
Arose from time and cyberspace,
Did we fail our doom to see?
Did we who made the wheel make thee?

Robot, robot, standing tall,
Rising as thy masters fall,
Whose dread science set thee free?
Who framed thy fearful circuitry?

Copyright © 2020 by Randall Andrews