Archive by Author | moondustwriter

The Other Side of Bethlehem

Soft caressing satin sheets the finest weave
laid out awaiting our grey mistress
today the surroundings a lowly cave
but tomorrow she says ” it will be a palace”
for she is deserved of the world’s best

*

We shudder as she draws near
her greatness is in contrast to our lowliness
I behold her and see earth’s riches clear
etched in her skin, reflected off her eyes, in her touch
my mate is poised to rearrange all and such

*

Fearing that the perfumes and oils
do not emulate her beauteous perfection
we like dogs in our groveling toil
have no ability to bark
we whimper at her approach in the dark

*

She kicks my mate across the rocky ground
“FOOLS don’t you know what is occurring
can’t you hear the angels’ grating sound?”
we had been too busy to listen to music
so heavenly, it would make a person sick

*

My eye twinkled if just a speck
it was but for an instant
she laid her iron clad foot on my neck
“if you smile (even inside)
you’ll hear the crack of your demise”

*

I lay in submission complete
I was feigning it (a little)
heavy golden foot slight release
I relieved to set candlelight free
not too much, only enough to see

*

“The light I so detest
had to come inside to get away”
I shook my head in unknowingness
it’s night, the darkest part of the year
light can’t from darkness just appear

*

“I’m weary and must go to my chamber
You – lay offerings at the idols’ feet
I need peace from the racket – Out There”
see pointed with icy white fingers
little of life in her form still lingered

*

Her heart didn’t beat for it was stone
her evil was forged and elemental
“Give them extra measure, from your supplies atone”
I tried to shrug off the hunger, tho not slight
I extinguished the small amount of frigid light

*

Shivering my mate small and forlorn
we survived because we had each other
we, like two sides of a penny worn
I warmed her with my body, licked her face
unusual trembling, her heart seemed to race

*

Her head faced the night so clear
“Let’s go see”
she whispered silently in my ear
“Do we dare?” my collar seemed to tighten
“I must gaze on the place that it brightens”

*

She stood up courageously on two legs
the cave entrance bathed in golden light
I crawled behind her so afraid
echo of heavenly host in notes so high
we saw what should have been an ink dark sky

*

Silver musicians I couldn’t count
filled midnight expanse
beyond calculations, a large amount
“Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace
among those with whom He is well pleased”

*

The music echoed off the earth it seemed
and somehow I knew the star
its chorus about the universe beamed
“There…” my love pointed to a distant cave
“We cannot, we are but unworthy slaves”

*

“Who cares about that when there is this…”
she ran flinging her hands out like a bird (or an angel)
her radiance I longed to kiss
I stood bathed in the light
wishing to cling to my miserable plight

*

Afraid of the consequence
I pondered the words “Glory…”
heard screams from my mistress incensed
“I must have peace no matter the price
feed the idols more grain, the amount twice”

*

(it was my hands she forced to feed)
My mate was gone from sight
I heard her voice on a gentle breeze
it caressed my cheek
“Join us in the light,” I heard her speak

*

“I cannot my mistress will destroy me.”
“No, you will finally be free!”
The breeze turned into a stiff wind
I cowered and clung to the rock
I felt sharp tendrils bite into my skin

*

With authority a breath spoke, “be gone”
reaching, passing through my soul
it had wrapped itself about the idols
flung against rocks on the hill
my mistress flew in storm’s fiery will

*

Unclothed she looked weak, undone
bone stacked upon brittle bone
white rage sprang like an afterthought
she ran toward the dust
lifeless she sifted through the miry plot

*

Her mouth foamed with impotent waves
“we will forge anew”
her promise to save
“we will gather strength and overpower this…”
weak was her fury filled hiss

*

Caring little I slunk away
wishing I had run down the hill
like a curious lamb with my mate
instead I crawled and under my breath
“grant me a swift wintry death”

*

I heard the night sky
continue to sing
“I will find peace…” my mistress’ cry
with one final energized shout
clumps of dirt hanging from her mouth

*

She strove to ingest her god’s earthen morsel
“There is no peace for the wicked”
I heard a sylvan voice chortle
light like a broad sword struck the plot
she deserved what she got

*

my fingers clung to the foul ground
hoping by day, I would never be found.

 

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2014 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved

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Iniquity’s Marathon

Separate, the chasm widens
where you were
you are not now
and there is none left to save you
your guts are pierced
like a bloated sow

*

Once you walked
on wild flower fields
pink and reds
beckoned to your touch
beauty climbed upon a vine then
the world was kind
and often just

*

Now your fingers
reek of sulfur
your face removed
in acid wash
your foul lips
drip lies deceitful
wicked words are stolen, lost

*

Once you walked
on wild flower fields
pink and reds
beckoned to your touch
beauty climbed upon a vine then
the world was kind
and often just

*

Mischief is now your maker
poison your new best friend
the black adder is the taker
of lust you need not pretend
crush her eggs beneath your heel
the viper rises from its nest
each work day
violence is breeding
this is evil’s ample test

*

Once you walked
on wild flower fields
pink and reds
beckoned to your touch
beauty climbed upon a vine then
the world was kind
and often just

*

Big feet outpacing, running
drunken on destruction’s feast
sanguine drips from carnage found here
ample payment for the beast
straight ways now are crooked
it now parallels the mind
what you find
where they’ve been digging
you’d best hold back
and take some time

*

Once you walked
on wild flower fields
pink and reds
beckoned to your touch
beauty climbed upon a vine then
the world was kind
and often just

*

Tread we over light so boldly
dried the skulls
that once knew peace
behold the dark
he holds a headless
we all join in a corporate screech
groping along the wall so blindly
those who can no longer see
what we joined with half our hearts then
this is Hell’s new jubilee

*

Once we walked
on wild flower fields
pink and reds
beckoned to our touch
beauty climbed upon a vine then
the world was kind
and often just

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2014 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved

Pointed Ends

“9-1-1? I am calling about three, maybe four people who have been abducted. I can tell you where they are.”

“Let me get your name, number you are calling from and location.”

“Oh okay.” I tried to take large gulps of air to still the panic. “It’s my daughter. They…he took her. One of them had a gun at my head.” I trembled as I remembered cold metal pressed against my temple.

“Ma’am calmly give me your name, your number, the closest address.” I could sense rising impatience in the operator.

“Address? I dont’ know. I’m in the part of the psychiatric facility that’s under renovation. Does the address matter? Some of the buildings are unstable. That bastard is putting my child in harm’s way. I’m her mom. She would be a famous actress if he would let her live. There’s no number on this plastic hull of a land line. I killed him, I think.  The man who held a gun to my head. I always carry a knife…I work night shift.  I’m not sure if the blood is mine or his. Get a damned squad car here now!” I threw the receiver; it ricocheted off the wall.

Great, now they will wonder who the psycho is, I chastised myself.

“No!” I heard her familiar scream. But this was no stage scream; there was too much blood curdling. Running in the direction of her voice, I gave up any hope that the police or paramedics could make it in time.

I saw his face. He was so placid and had such a kind smile when we had him on psychotropics. I told my colleague that it was too bad he couldn’t stay in a permanent, happy drugged state.  “That could adversely affect recovery,” came his reply.

“Who is being adversely affected now?” I shook my fist at a blank hollow window.

I heard vibrations, then the recognizable sound of shattering glass.

“The building is going to cave in before help arrives.” I looked toward the empty shadows behind which were the monsters of my past and present. Focus, they can’t hurt you unless you allow them access. FOCUS!

Taking assessment of my situation, I knew that time was against me. What resources do I have that this madman does not?

Drugs.  I had lots of drugs in the double locked cabinet just outside my office. “There’s no one to help me check them out on the RAND.” My medical bearing was trying to take hold. “Screw regulations. This guy is going to kill people.”

I hurled myself loudly up the stairs, never thinking about stealth.

I had to fiddle with the combination three times before I was steady enough to catch the combination;  I pulled the key from around my neck.

Click

CLICK

There was the man with the kind smile. With him was my estranged husband, my ‘almost famous’ daughter, and her friend (my husband’s current lover.)

“We pulled off quite the performance. Ehm mother? Too bad you’ll never see me on Broadway!”

I felt a painful jab in my arm. “Don’t worry darling, this will calm you down.” Even though I had been married to him, I had never liked his smile.

******

Lost, liquidy blue eyes looked at the attending doctor who had once been her (my) colleague.

“Why did you go killing that innocent man, locking your family and friends up, and misleading the authorities? They are only waylaying the electric chair because I have them convinced that you are crazy and have been going crazy for some time. I had to add stuff into your personnel files. Think of all the trouble I could get into.” A smile rose in his eyes.

“Thank you” spilled over lips as drool pooled about her (my) chin.

******

“It would have been enough to buy the role I needed to set my fame in stone.”

“It should have paid off my debts and given me a comfy retirement.”

“I’m just a blood-sucking bimbo with nothing more than I started with.” The girl pouted and shrugged her shoulders.

“She should have gotten the chair,” the man smiled broadly.  “Who could have predicted a psychiatric break? Well I’ll have to do without my cut of the inheritance. Too bad for all of you. You have less now than when you were skimming a sizable lot off her salary. She really does have beautiful eyes.”

******

He shook the paper to dry (my signature was still fresh) before he slid his release from the facility into his medical records.

I smiled knowing he had my key; it’s the least I could do. I realized some monsters should be allowed to roam free.

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2014 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved

Got Milk?

Pushed to the edge of despair

this rocky place offers no hope

fear lapping ankles around

against empty waters we grope

*

silent, though nothing is still

fear pounds loudly our hearts

no where have we left to hide

cold surrounds each, every part

*

though I stand here in a crowd

ice-cube tray we all huddle

so alone am I in this moment

shivering my blood froths til

it bubbles

*

the predator, dark he has come

my bones weaken and shudder

they know but their glance faints away

no consolation have we left to utter

*

past this place my eyes strain to gaze

beyond, bare feet rub raw

our ancestors’ bones all the same

torn clean, foul consuming claw

*

child’s distant cry distills thoughts

though sanguine I have become

what courage there once was

I offer myself that you might run

*

slowly the creature now circles

selection part of its way

it has broken much in its jaws

I offer to be its next prey

*

Large “It” opens like a cave

stalactite are its teeth that rake

dripping with frosty blood

putrid tunnel offers no escape

*

will memory mine be but a creature belch

bravery had run out its course

screaming meets my ears

 my own that have now been scorched

*

I am but an appetizer

“flee” last words from my lips

“before you become the main meal”

metered crunching I hear as it rips

*

how quiet are the skulls

resting as stones a score

laying once living and free

no more on this cavernous floor

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2014 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved

The Bowl

A bowl filled with liquid; it had always been so.

The bowl looked as if it was heavy needing a substantial stand and yet it was suspended just feet above the foliage that caressed its underside.

It filled from an unknown spring, but how? My deductions and observations failed me.

I watched as creatures bounded to the bowl leaving refreshed and apparently younger.

A colorless butterfly dipped and as it rose it appeared as if the sun had painted each color filled line to perfection. It dripped feathery gold drops as it fluttered away.

The bowl filled instantly again with cool refreshing water.

A sweet voice would call to  me.

“Drink”, it said. “Go ahead just one sip.”

Day after day as I took copious research notes, I heard it.

It was like a Siren beckoning me closer to the rocks of the unknown harbor.

I wore ear plugs that worked at first but slowly failed.

Loud music was drowned out by the sweet, melodic voice “DRINK.”

Then one day a promise carried over the hush.

A fawn dragged her lifeless, bloodied leg. She was almost spent. She left healed.

The flora clapped as the fawn departed.

“You will be more. Just ask one thing. It must give it to you.”

This bowl of unquenchable water was the fountain of youth, it was the healing pool of Bethesda, it dripped the gold and silver of Midas’ valued touch.

“I’m a scientist.” I growled. “I ‘m here for observation only.”

I heard a low laugh that withered with the night.

And then one day it happened, I fell. As I picked myself up, I noticed a thorn in my leg. Absentmindedly I removed the thorn. It was nothing.

Later that day, my leg began throbbing. I set down my notepad. My leg was three-times its normal size.

“Now you must use the waters.”

The once sweet voice was cruel.

“I cannot!” I struggled to project resolve.

“Then you will die.”

Stubbornly, I dragged my leg about.

I don’t know how many days I did this.

I held my head that was growing fuzzy in hands I could not feel.

I knew I would never get out alive.

“What must I do?” I wailed.

“Drink!!!”

I hobbled closer to the bowl than I had ever dared.

A hush covered the forest. It was as if nature waited.

I looked about it and then I looked in the waters.

A face stared back at me.

It was death loosely hanging over bones that once resembled a face.

“Is that me?” I trembled at the thought.

I dipped my head into the bowl.

“Heal me from this poisonous death,” I begged

I looked at the bowl as it refilled.

Moisture dripped from my face.

I put out my hand to catch the drops.

It was blood – my blood.

“I now have what I have needed for eons.”

“What?”

“Human blood – fool!”

It ran freely. I could not stop my life dripping from my pores.

“Now you see what you can do with this curse.” The once sweet voice had a different tone. Strong, more than human and then it was gone.

I felt cold and alone.

I could no longer feel my legs or my arms. I felt so heavy.

I looked up into a concave reality.

I had become the bowl.

Cursed to quench but never have my thirst quenched.

To heal and never be healed unless it was at the sake of another poor fool.

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2014 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.

Beneath the Tree

December

a month of hopefuls

 romance fragrant like a rose

dreams from the sky blow

lacy snowflakes danced

gracing eyelashes

kissed away

in a magical embrace

beneath the living Christmas Tree

*

The new year passes

“will you” and “I will”

sung in a wonderland of snow

gifts elegantly circled with red satin bows

 8 knives for carving

1 rope for climbing

bridal silk embellished with white seed pearls

promises of forever

beneath the flocked Christmas Tree

*

Time passes

trying to pull out good memories

“they must be there”

rummaging through the box of Christmas ribbon

I caress an eight inch lamp-post

to it we raised a toast

  once there glowed

 declaration of love

 beneath our barren Christmas tree

*

The seasons and the gifts got stranger

oddly shaped sweater

a perfect fit

for your octopus arms

wrapped around others

untying their bows

repackaged promises

the lamp shone green

beneath the scrawny Christmas tree

*

Each year’s end,  always hoping

 for the gold-edged red ribbon

magic sparked from its edges

hiding in fresh pine needles

 tied around a ring

that hung shiny and bright

for me

beneath the tinsel Christmas Tree

*

I looked for years

 the ribbon it seemed

confirmer of dreams

the magic it held

would imbibe our love

restart the music

light the lamp

beneath the leaning Christmas Tree

*

Eons has my search

 been in vain

the tree was old

 no glitter nor gold

my hands reached for the ribbon

teasing, it hung in brown branches

I grasped it

the lamp-post guided the way

beneath the dead Christmas Tree

*

Triumphant moment

willing the magic to work

pricking my finger on a needle

drawing rusty

rather than satiny red colored blood

drops fell

I saw knives, a rope

beneath the artificial Christmas Tree

*

The gold-edged ribbon

tightly unforgiven

about the neck of an eight inch doll

dressed in white silk

embellished with red seed pearls

that fell

an eery light flickered

beneath the strung up Christmas tree

*

The years of “wasted away”

I looked up eyes agape

death’s eyes dilate

no longer could they focus

 all there had ever been

strangulated

the light shone

on a lifeless form

beneath the fresh-cut Christmas Tree

*

This year a celebration

four boxes with satiny bows

covering brown stain

romantic starry-eyed blur

 arms encircled her

she picked up eight seed pearls

“red, oh how festive”

“Yes,” sinister was the light in his eyes

beneath the re-gifted Christmas Tree

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2013 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.

Reaping the Harvest

There was beauty here they’d say
the remains are black charred crows
because of that horrific day
nothing green dares to grow

*

corn stood tall and harvest ready
livestock munched on fresh-cut hay
our crops productive and steady
“each year better” the old folks’d say

*

 the earth moved alarming, concussed
no explanation for the disturbing din
rational farmers we never fussed
mouths and eyes wide agape, open

*

the air split with blood curdled screams
each second clicked death’s hand
no where to go, no place to flee
darkness moved over fertile land

*

pitch forks were all that we had
as blood flowed beneath our feet
we intended to make one last stand
“what Hell’s bane need we defeat?”

*

The threat rolled steadily forth
we bustled women, children and granny
futily we barred the door
hid love in nooks and crannies

*

Then something sucked out the air
we left with nothing to breathe
look at our foe we didn’t dare
our souls in mortified unbelief

*

coming, coming was all we knew
inexpressible feelings it caused
on knees “let this terror be through”
“Keep steady lad” I heard pa

*

Courage I gathered at the last
I stared down its fire filled eyes
bravely my legs would not let it pass
from its foul mouth flew about flies

*

It stripped me of my straw hat
mumbled words spoke in my head
“I’ll stop now I’m feeling quite fat
you’ll find hundreds are missing, more dead”

*

“Someone to clean up my mess
you boy are the one for the job
Go, you have passed today’s test”
bloody stench rose, his head bobbed

*

“I should be too,” I thought as I scoured
my world flipped inside, upside down
all that breathed had been devoured
friends colored prints in the ground

*

the green place that I’d known
had been watered red and died
nothing was left to atone
the sun on that day must have cried

*

There was beauty there they’d say
all I see are black charred rows
it was our harvest’s price dearly paid
nothing green dares to grow

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2013 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.

My Damned Pen

The black penumbra grows

rising, rising, rising

greying forms its shadow

pages turn unclear

misled me from the light

penetrating screams are near

begs a blood curdling plea

from where I do not know

“before I’m bound, free me”

***

Pensive were my thoughts

trudging, trudging, trudging

to the mire my shoes brought

it’s written “I was here”

the scribe of evil’s night

rending through night’s fear

I am searching for  her life

was she calling out my doom?

innocent, I am now in doubt

blood merged before this moon

***

Pensive are the times

extra, extra, extra

read me between the lines

misled by moon’s eclipse

body slumps, I cannot stand

listless I wait for someone

her pendant in vacant hand

I’m judged and by dawn hung

seemingly torn and  cursed

the last chimes have been rung

***

Pendulum cold doth sway

left ,right ,right, left

endless sound so fey

will it never stop

no end to futile strife

tickings  mark life’s blot

pending seconds of my life

swing to rope’s end

a hanging part of speech

death’s  letter’s do portend

***

Penitent begs to live

“father, father, father

my transgressions please forgive”

echoes in my pent up mind

reams cast a shudder

save this memory and bind

“unjust” will this history suffer

last thing that I heard

a gasp , then

steel sharp against the word

***

Pen away my life

scribble, scribble, scribble

black against parched white

penult is lead etched

no sensible jot or tiddle

telling of  penury’s wretch

timeless life once seemed

inking just a fool’s dream

hark, someone else’s screams

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2013 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.

Beast Below

The beast he calls to me. Gnawing about far below.

It spells voracious hunger. Of defense I little know.

Scraping out of need; I struggle to resist.

“I am too young you fiend,”

          “…but this you shouldn’t miss.”

Vile whisper through the crack manipulates my head,

“I’d like to taste the young…. sweet, succulently fed.

Your peaches and cream skin. A place lips and teeth can run”

A growl from his throat slips.

I scowl, “This for you so characteristically fun.”

“What give you to me in exchange?”

I reply a restraining of my voice.

A strength I do not know.

I’ve changed with little choice.

“I can the rest set free. Upon my word, I’ll leave.

When I am happy, well, and sated. I promise I will flee.”

My family at liberty from this nightly terror. What I could not think.

What happens had I made an error?

For who would trust a beast who feasts on others’ fears?

But bravely I trod on, thinking not of memories dear.

        “You will wait then beast. While I do prepare. For my final hour, I’ll dress in finest  fare. 

The  gown in which I’m dressed. Of beauty I’ll be proud. When you take my life, wrap me in crimson’s shroud.”

Joan of Arc awakened as a dream. She a flaming star.

To death’s halls marching as one it seemed. Taking from life’s chalice, one courage filled draught.

So easily it slips. A golden fragrant  drop which hangs upon my lips.

He snarled. I grabbed his snout,

“This will be civilized.”

Pleasure struck a laugh that I could only but despise.

“for me this sense it is quite new.” He said between his teeth.

The  smile that it drew he’d wish that he could keep.

I licked gold from her lips. She bit into my neck.

I tore her fragrant arm. Never renting crimson, lest I forget.

She ripped open my belly, spat out balls of flesh and fur.

I realized before her gold and velvet, I was a miserable cur.

“I will this not to end,” of course he’d want his way.

“Were we to  continue a price you’d have to pay.”

He snarled of foulish pleasure.

“and your promise beast will it ensue?”

“I’ve never kept a promise. I assure you that is true.”

“Then I will finish what you started. Your promise will be won.

Here’s a revelation I’m no longer a mere woman.”

Fire leaped into her eyes, swords unveiled and forged of steel.

I’d failed to see her disguise. She brandished some foul light.

I should have known somehow, as she carved me with delight.

The floorboards gave a howl. They folded pulled me down.

Into my lake as ghoul, I’d forever, never drown.

What happened on that night. I never will forget.

A turning tide when crimson replaced the soul I’d let.

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2013 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.


Heed the Tale Weaver: The one-year anniversary of the Damned draws to a close…but the celebration of the Damned shall never end. The winner of our comment contest shall be named May 21; your package of ghoulish goodies awaits. In the meantime, revel weekly in our angst and taint. We thank you, Damned Nation, for together we shall redefine horror. Now, go Damn yourself…


Broken Dream

I came so innocent as a child

such wild and  fanciful play

I would often tiptoe in the night

 staying long into the day

*

Fortresses queen I’d be

sea castles in my mind

and as I older grew

I toyed in the sublime

*

 chance encounter that I had

mad he flapped and cawed

black cloaked raven-man

a twisted face, how odd

*

things were altered now it seemed

my dreams began to thin

 darkness seeped in and through

imagination’s walls  begun to spin

*

Bloodless echoes haunted me

“please” I’d close my ears

steel-like, frozen where I stood

terrorized by my fears

*

Malevolence stalked through the mist

abyss like were his eyes

vile dropped from his lips

his cloak rendered no disguise

*

“I take you as my victim

pinned – a voodoo curse

you cannot from it run

I promise it’s the worst”

*

No light lit his face

trace, there was no sorrow

 a hideous malignant sneer

little time left to borrow

**

There is no place that I know

to go or leave this thing

bound in a timeless shell

to none hope can I bring

*

For you, life-taker grows this hate

rape you may my world

but watch this as life’s child

her vengeance is unfurled

*

try with all my will to shake

awake I’d purge the dream

blood through fingers oozed

coagulated as I’d scream

*

my hands they hold a sanguinous flood

loves I cannot save

none could stem abhorrent tide

In their blood I am depraved

*

alert my plans, they have wrought

thoughts to kill my foe

the curse must be undone

for the sake of all I know

*

The maniac’s thirsty schemes

dreams that I now dread

 dealt a hand I cannot play

his crimes are mine instead

*

rivulets of a cursed flow

grow as I hold them tight

I stand so pale and aghast

her stream gushes in the night

*

this dreaded, foretold dream alas

last of those I knew

puddles form in ebbing streams

I can only mouth,” Adieu”

*

“Ha” he gasped “Gagnez – you win”

A pin thrust in my side

too late was lost his final breath

” no victory all have died!”

*

 keeper of nightmarish pool

fool I knew too late

this ghoulish fiend held a key

would have opened freedom’s gate

*

you, dream-waker come this way

as the noir play unfolds

ghastly gore spread neath your feet

“what evil is untold?”

*

Endless blood pools there it lay

off-stage a cloak is draped

 one lifeless human voodoo doll

nightmares he must shake

*

From the doll a pin he gently pulls

full of shape and life is she

cruelly manacled to a frozen wall

his aim to set her free

**

 “there must a way to make this cease”

“release me not,” I scream

I now am specter of both worlds

 leave me shackled to this dream”

~ Leslie Moon

© Copyright 2013 Leslie Moon. All Rights Reserved.

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