Achluophobia - Horror Novel - Not for the faint hearted

Achluophobia - Horror Novel -

This is my latest novel I am working on and here are the first five chapters for you to read and feed back for me.

Copywrite Graeme Hawke 2012

The Night!_ A Dark Pondering for today

I think this is some of my best visual work to date.

THE NIGHT!

The night heralds in the new world

A world where we will scream

The silent ecstasy that is unfurled

A reality of darkness that is no dream

The night brings forth those who hunger

A meal of life that sees them thrive

The quiet entrapment full of wonder

A time for some to grow and strive

The Night is a time full of dancing shadows

A ballet of death and blood red gowns

The twisted form of malignant death throws

A Place where the UnDead have no bounds

The Night has a maleficent cold embrace

A hold so strong there is no escape

The arms of evil will leave no physical trace

A comforting finality as if enclosed in deaths cape

The Night is a place where no one wins

A game of dice where each throw is unsure

The winners, those with unmentionable sins

A satisfying finality like a lustful whore

The night, my home of enveloping fate

A sanctuary from the wholesome light

The destiny I seek is thru the writhing gate

A bosom of the dark lord encased in Unholy

Night!



The Gardener - New Poem for today

The Gardener

I tender the ground so hard and dry

To ensure I grow the best possible

Seething hatred before I wither and die

*

The seeds I sow are created from pain

The kind that makes you soul bleed

And the blows of a fist over and over again

*

The nourishment they thrive upon

Are the salted tears of sorrow and despair

Hastily collected before they are gone

*

My fertiliser of choice not for the faint of heart

And the shit that I spread from the decaying dead

Give my unholy seeds, the best possible start.

*

So I tender the ground with tools made of bone

As I while away the centuries and beyond

With no-one else to care for, but myself alone

*

I care for my seeds like a father doth his spawn

To help them along and nurture and grow

With the ultimate glory for them to be born

*

So with tears and faeces I tend to my young

Talking all the time to them of the lives ahead

Their hurt and betrayal not yet even begun

*

So I watch as my hatred grows to wondrous heights

Seeing the potential they now have to offer

And my thoughts drift off to imagine the delights

*

I bid my children goodbye, with a blood red tear

As they go into the world to spread unrest

And a large proportion of unbridled Fear!

The Devils Shroud - Poem for today

The Devils Shroud

Copywrite Graeme Hawke 2012

Twilight Dawn - Poem of loss at an early age I only loved her for an instant

Twilight Dawn

What The Dead See

What The Dead See!

Copywrite Graeme Hawke 2012

The Conradictory - Prose for today

The Contradictory

How can I be!

So busy being Lazy.

Or get

Blisters from the freezing cold

Or be

So Cold I’m Hot.

Please explain

The momentum of being still

Or how there is

A something of nothing

I know slow is a speed but what is

The speed of slow motion

I just cant live without

The Love of Hate.

Or

The need for loneliness.

We have all been there

Feeling alone in a crowd

And been cut by

The sharpness of words

The worst of all is

The dullness of pain

And we all know

The sorrow in laughter

I thrive on

The taste of victory

Or when it’s so black you see

The Lights in darkness

We all want to have the

Cheating of death

And we all have felt

The anguish of love

I have yet to get

The smell of success

And held in my hands

The weight of nothing

I have shed

The tears of joy

And the act of

The doing of nothing

I can’t work out

The stillness of a breeze

Or if there really are

The winds of change

I know how hard is

The hardness of soft

And I have designed

The intricately simple

I have also felt

The unease of ease

And known

The successful underachiever

I have never been warmed by

The radiantly happy

Or heard

The silent scream

Or the words in

A garbled breath

Ah! I have been

Flat out doing nothing

But rarely have I been

As happy as pie

Where did it come from

The time has come

And I hope I don’t cut myself with

A sharp intake of breath

And do I need a splint for

The snapping of a temper

Copy write Graeme Hawke 2012

The Hand That Feeds

Copywrite Graeme Hawke 2012