Zach Kinnett: Favorites

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

H.P. Lovecraft

There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats o'er the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings un-hallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
Hail the sin's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule- altar fungous and white.

To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the sick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Evening Star

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Edgar Allan Poe

Evening Star

’Twas noontide of summer,
  And midtime of night,
And stars, in their orbits,
  Shone pale, through the light
Of the brighter, cold moon.
  ’Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
  Her beam on the waves.

  I gazed awhile
  On her cold smile;
Too cold—too cold for me—
  There passed, as a shroud,
  A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
  Proud Evening Star,
  In thy glory afar
And dearer thy beam shall be;
  For joy to my heart
  Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
  And more I admire
  Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Faces

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Anna Veronica

Faces

You see the face that I show you , all the things you believe and want it to be.
The layers of make-believe that made me,
Never ceased to ease the pain burning within.
The faces that you seek, and the faces that you see.
Hide all the fire held in me.

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Silence

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Ylzm

Silence

no magical incantation
but wordless agony
silence:

bitter and disconsolate
thunderously piercing
in all heavens
and hell;

angels cry
stopping their ears
quaking in terror
on their knees
unbearably compelled
beseeching all powers
to heed—

else
heavens and earth
destroyed!

#silence #wordlessness #agony #angels #heavens #hell #prayer #cry #terror #powers

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Tattoos

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Ylzm

Tattoos

tattoos, the mark of Cain
instinctively inducing revulsion
stirring a mix of fear and hate
and of contempt and pity

today a common mark of man
mistaking individuality for identity
abhorrence for affirmation of being
and grotesque debasement for beauty

the mark of exile, rejection, and wickedness
now of fellowship, freedom, and choice
embracing the perverse to shock as all children do
now permanently etched, defiant without understanding

perhaps it is fitting and timely now
for the world is going the way of Cain
the mark of man is yet another sign
manifesting openly for those given to see

#tattoo #revulsion #grotesque #debasement #cain #wickedness #fellowship #choice #*******

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Musings on Quarantine

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Bri Stokes

Musings on Quarantine

Solitude is like a
feathered embrace.
Like a swell of moonlight
on dewy,
manicured
grass.
And should you go looking
for the magick--
for the secrets
unveiled
in stillness
and beats
that stretch for miles,
from one
shivering
heart
to another,
you’ll find realms of
untold dreams.
Rheems of
bursting starlight,
of long-squashed fantasies
in demand
of your attention.
Daydreams that unwind
until you’ve found
what you were searching for:
the secret,
long-lost
places
you hadn’t known
were long-since missing.

Without suffering, there is silence.

#2020 #coronavirus #covid19 #positivity #solitude #selfdiscovery #peace #happiness #magic #beauty

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Skinwalker

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

Bri Stokes

Skinwalker

Time is a trickster;
the ticking clock: its vicious heart.
It impregnates.
It destroys.
It heals.
It unravels.
It dons the skin of an imposter
in the coldest stretch of night:
a magician weaving fantasies
that sear.
Neutralize.
Inspire.
Though I wonder--
I worry--
are the days too long?
Are the nights too dim
and fleeting?
Do I dance through each
crescendo
in a lurid,
patchwork nightmare?
Or are my dreams so full of pain,
that soon,
I'll shatter beneath them
and finally wake up?

A tale of 2020.

#quarantine #coronavirus #2020 #election #chaos #fear #nightmares #loss #grief #depression

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

poets ink

Oct 2020 Zach Kinnett

willow sophie

poets ink

my poetic brilliance is nothing to boast about;
it is a curse
because the best poets
write with blood, sweat, and tears.

i hope to grow old,
someday,
and be ridiculed for my distasteful,
unwise poetry;
i won't need praise to fill a void in my heart that is meant to be youthful,
i shan't be fruitless and tired;
i will finally be happy.