A message from Robert about this facet of gothicpoet.
Ok, we write. That stated, the 'we' may confuse you. Most of the poems are written by 'Robert' in the bios. The statement is made because no one can read them until Chris or someone else works on them. I have a learning disability, most people don't know this, my friends and the people I work with closely do. I made it part of the way through high school before anyone knew I could barely read or write. I knew this but I was not going to tell anyone. The explanation, they diagnosed me with a form of dyslexia, I don't see words backwards but don't recognize them. I can learn a word today but not know it tomorrow. On the other hand, if I can read something or someone reads it to me, I retain almost 100% and I can keep 100s of things moving around in my mind at one time. Keep all the balls in play without dropping any of them. My mind works all the time and I have a hard time turning it off, sleep is a waste. This makes me good at what I do. The writing was and is a release, soothing, to keep my mind running and to channel my over active imagination. Today I do not know what the diagnosis would be on me.
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All of this was to say I write but others lend to the interpretation. Most of my poems are to cause a feeling, thought or emotion.. The side show, Pain, devil plays.... Some are from my dreams. I do not have pleasent dreams. The short storys most all of them are dreams
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Devil Plays
Listen to the sad violin
tucked under the devil's chin
he will stand and play
but you must always pay
there may be no cloven feet
the devil can be discrete
but if you chose to dance
to any violin of chance
you must be solemnly prepared
for when the trick is bared
He will only play so long
as life suits his song
if you wish to hear more
you must not become a bore
with his violin enhance
you must heartily dance
for if you miss a step
if the rhythm you have not kept
the melody may become cruel
and the bill will be due in full
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PAIN
No fire will burn me
No water will drown me
No rock will crush me
No sword will slay me
But there is pain
| BETRAYAL
The sun's rays are ice
the full moon will not satisfy
Life is a portrait
painted by a phantom's hand
Time is an illusion
Love is a reality
seen through half closed eyes
Sanity is a lie
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THE TRAP
Come into my parlor
said the spider to the fly
But the fly is a madman
and the spider is unaware
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Fire Dream
The dream begins in fire and ends in fire. There is a fire consuming me from the inside out, from the outside in. There is nothing but the fire no past, no future, no here, no me. The wave comes crashing in, dousing the fire and drowning me. I stayed under the water for a long time then was washed up on the shore. I know this is the shore waves rush over me then recede I can taste and feel sand on my lips. Then as with a revelation in the dark of my closed eyes I hear the keys. Without seeing I know what they are and look like. They're skeleton keys, there doesn't seem very many but they will open all the doors, all the doors. Two are made of a heavy dull metal. The third is slim and bright making a distinctive tinny sound in contrast to the others low thuds. I know these keys hang from the belt of Rath. Tall and gaunt, clothed in a cassock. Rath stalks my mind. It walks the corridors of my memory letting the keys clank together. Now and then it will stop at a door and use one of the keys to let loose a memory in dreams, as now it is the worst. I lie in bed and hope the memory will be good, but the Rath is twisted. It torments with bad memories which I have tried to lock away for all times. Gesturing to a door with a key as if to ask me, 'Do you want this one or not?'. There is one door labeled in huge letters dug into it's surface. WOLF is the word. I have no idea what is behind this door but at it's sight electric shock shot through my veins. The Rath will pass this door then turn as if to say 'There it is'. It will trace the letters lovingly then beat on the door, insert the key and turn it halfway. My breath stops waiting for the click of the lock. Then with a nod of its hooded head the Rath moves on. Now the Rath turns a corner coming into sight in this corridor. Stopping without ceremony it unlocks the door and swings it wide. No memory awaits here, I lay on a beach facedown. The Rath begins to laugh a hollow bone laugh. I heard the laugh and slowly pushed myself up onto my knees. The door not the Rath was visible but the laughter assaulted me from all sides. Standing I ignored it. The beach stretched out before me under a new days sun the sea making loud sounds. The suns heat was becoming unbearable. With my index finger pointed at the heats source thumb stuck in the air in the classical gun salute. I let the thumb fall with an accompanying bang. The sun fell into the sea with a splash. Sometimes it worked in the dream I thought blowing the pretend smoke from the end of the gun finger. Over the sand dunes the moon rose full detailed in faint blue craters. 'Tharumump' The sound of hooves brought me back from moon gazing. 'Tharumump' A horse was getting closer fast but the 'Tharumump' sound was of a hoof on hard packed earth not the sand of the dunes. 'Tharumump' Then I saw the horse and rider coming toward me across the water from the place the sun and splashed down. 'Tharumump' The horses hooves did not kick up the sea but a fine dust drifted in it's wake. 'Tharumump' It's head floated up and down gracefully with it's powerful stride, breath coming out in a cloud of steam. I was wondering if it was such a good idea to shoot the sun down. 'Tharumump' The rider was massive, long wiry black hair long curly black beard. The eyes were the same spark blue with breaths of steam as the horse's. 'Tharumump' In one hand he held a spear point dropped to my chest level. The other hand was held over his head a piece of the sun in it's palm. 'Tharumump' The shore offered no refuge but I did not even look, mesmerized by the bright piece of sun. 'Tharumump' The hooves beat drowned out the waves drove out all thought. 'Tharumump' I watched the sun as the spears point drew dangerously close. 'Tharumump' The point past through my clothes I turned to the right. There was no killer horseman on the beach with me there was no beach. No spear in my chest and no horse galloped by. There was a window, set in the black curtain of night. The moon was overhead and I stood in a meadow. Through the window I saw two little girls dressed in lace dresses of the Victorian style, sitting on a bench playing with dolls. I looked under the window and saw the legs of the bench and four feet in little white shoes. Moving to the right I looked around the side of the window one of the girls waved at me then went back to her playing. I approached the window, inspected the wooden frame suspended in the night it's single glass pane. With the finger I had shot the sun I reached to touch the pane. When my finger was an inch away the glass cracked. From the place were the finger would have touched lines cobwebbed out. Thousands of small hexagons spread until all the window was shattered. I kept moving my hand forward. The window moved, not the frame just the glass, before my finger. It bowed out staying an inch away. This continued until my elbow was flush with the frame. The glass, like a cracked sleeve incased my hand and arm an inch away. The glass followed the arms withdrawal until the pane was in it's original place. I was thinking on this and wondering where the girls had gone when the glass exploded. My normal reflex arms thrown up to protect the face, eyes shut did not happen. The hexagon shards rushed toward my nose, eyes, lips all my body then an inch away they moved to the sides bumping others out of the way and flowed on past. Blinking several times only after the glass past I saw that on the other side of the window frame was a room. Pulled from an old English movie the room was a gentleman's study, low beamed ceilings, bookshelves, and massive furniture. The remnants of an active life: heads of animals on the wall, staves from the orient, masks from Africa, all these were signs of this life. I stepped over the window seal, entering the room in this way I upset a small table on it an ancient oil lamp. Caressingly I caught the lamp and placed it on the righted table. Smoke puffed from the lamps spout part of the smoke became solid forming from the waste up a man. His bare chest was tanned, oiled, and muscular. His biceps rippled, the face was Roman chiseled from stone. A large gold loop hung from one ear the hair was none. From his waist smoke spiraled and tapered until it entered the spout of the lamp. He smiled with pointed teeth. "AW" pointed a finger at me he said "You can have three wishes" displaying three fingers "But one is already gone." He held up only two fingers and started to laugh the sound was Rath's not his. He phased around in front of me then behind. I turned to see the window and meadow was gone. He went behind me again. I turned he was not there the room was gone also. In front of me was a bust profile of a beautiful woman. Her nose was delicately sculpted her lips were full, cheeks smooth. Her hair was cut short and black in contrast to the white skin and red lips. The eye was pale green a gold loop dangled from the ear. Below the bust was only blackness She started to turn slowly to look my way. What I had at first thought to be a woman was only a broken porcelain mask. The full lips were intact but from there up the side of the face not revealed to me at first was missing. A jagged line went up the nose between the eyes and across the forehead. Inside this was blackness as outside. The lips parted as the bust continued to turn, "You can have three wishes" The bust made a complete circle showing it's backside which was nothing them the profile again. Continuing the lips parted "But two are already gone" When the face was in view again the eye winked. The next time the back side came the profile did not return. Only the blackness was there even the moon had set. Only the laughter remained. Time passed in which I seemed to rush forward at a lightning pace wind grazed my cheek and ruffled my hair. Then there seemed to be fog all around the sensation of moving slowed to a stop. I could see only a few feet and what I saw was green in all shades. The ground was carpeted up to my knees in what looked like all kinds of plants. There was a huge fern on each side of me and enough other plants and vines to make walking difficult. The fog was swept back by the wind revealing a rain forest. I was in a gully, hundred foot trees lined each side. Between two of these trees, a gorilla appeared and beat it's chest. Four other smaller gorillas followed it into the gully about one hundred feet from me. The larger one lingered in the gully as the others went back into the forest. It turned it's silver back to me standing on hind legs and front knuckles. When all the others were gone the gorilla closed two-thirds of the space between us and set back on it's haunches. I saw it wore a gold loop in it's left ear. The gorilla's voice was a low rumble "You can have three wishes" I did not breath in it's pause "But they're already gone." The laughter again. I turned and fought my way through the undergrowth. "If I had a wish I would wish this dream was over." Stumbling I braced myself for the impact of the ground but none came. I was falling or rising or floating or still and all these sensations rushed at me. I was under the water again but it had a red tinge. Then the fire burst all around me and in me. I heard Rath laugh. The dream began in fire and ended in fire.
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