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    The Incredible Torture Show

    Master Sardu puts on an S & M show Human-trafficked womanThe gore will begin to flow Audience is unaware that this spectacle is realWoman tortured with an iron tourniquetRalphus removes her eye, makes it his meal Scraps of human flesh fed...

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    Malachai

    Small town of GatlinSurrounded by cornfieldsLies a presence of worshipTo which all the children yield Issac, preacher childMalachai, right handTogether brainwash the childrenInto killing off all man Children of the corn19th year, death swornSacrifice to heWho commands new born Its - he....Who...

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    Pumpkinhead

    Keep away from Pumpkinhead!Conjured to avenge the deadAll those who've done wrongWatch out! He won't be long Harley and his only sonMotocross, drunken funOld witch and her magic brewPumpkinhead - blood feud! Conjured up - to take revengePumpkin grave.....Vengeance! Blood from the...

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    All Work & No Play

    Jack arrives at the overlook hotelLast caretaker killed his family and himselfBuilt on the site of a native burial groundSnowed in during the long winter's bound..... Here's Johnny! Danny, Jack's son, starts to foresee and "shine"Room 237, curiosity bruised his spine.....Wendy...

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  • Cavemans Breakfast

    I long to be a caveman,at least for just a day.To crawl out of my stinking cave every morning and enjoy a cavemans breakfast 'a piss and a good look round'.I long to be a caveman, at least for...

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    • Now that is a thought. No distractions other than living your life. Very, very simple life

    • What I write! And done on the toilet! Lol
      This is quite the masterpiece. I enjoyed all the back and forth. Like reading a tennis match.
      Caveman vs the 21st century.
      Well done!

      Loved the ending!

    • I am somewhat jealous; my toilet poetry is usually flushed because of the brown streaks. You write of the ying and yang of individualism, the brown streaks versus what once was. We humans have lost touch with our origins. We once made cave art, danced and howled at the moon; where it was women who ruled the campfires. And in some ways, we were more intelligent than we are today. We could talk to animals and create myths about the formations in stars. We will never get back to this, but I do think we can create a society where we once again talk to animals and reach for the stars.

      Your poem is thought-provoking and appreciated. Thanks for the share.
      -Curt/redzone

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