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Unspeakable Horror features the writings of Chad Helder: the Gay Horror Blog, which started in 2006, offering quasi-literary explorations of the horror genre; Chad's Campy Horror Comics from Bluewater, including Bartholomew of the Scissors, Vincent Price Presents, and Plan Nine 9 from Outer Space...50 Years Later; and Chad's Gay Horror Poetry, which frequently defies categorization.  In addition, this website seeks to promote the work of rising stars in the Horror Genre. 
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« Something is Coming Out of the Closet | Main | Vincent Price Rules! »
Tuesday
01Jul

Bartholomew Poem...So Far!

The White Blob arises from the void-like abyss;
this bleached ameboid, invading alien,
milky deep-sea mass with secret orifice,
swallowing-sphincter to bring the chosen in,
oozing white mastermind's fatal blob kiss,
and human consumed becomes brood-minion;
like Melville's White Whale the surface it breaches;
run for your life when the shoreline it reaches.

Gordon Watt, paranormal investigator
exposes film with spectral phantasm traces,
follows Bartholomew: undead instigator
of vengeful murder; Gordon Watt chases
the minions of the blob: white assimilator,
the alien that lurks behind human faces.
Gordon solves mysteries of the unseen
and finds the secret folded in-between.

A shallow grave can't contain Bartholomew;
he rises, moray eel from corral reef,
his scissors silver eel-teeth, his survivors few;
vengeance swells methodical, onslaught only brief;
he slithers from the id-crevice only to eschew
plain mortal mercy as insertion brings belief;
Bartholomew from beneath emerges
as puppet-blades of the swarm converges.

Gordon inspects the crime scene evidence:
prurient internet watcher now slumped,
death by the scissors unnatural recompense.
The boy's dead body in the forest was dumped;
past dead, he still kills in the present tense.
Digital voyeur by the Scissor Swarm bumped
off; those who view Bartholomew's pictures
soon encounter his steely-tipped strictures.

Spectral phantasm from a strange dimension,
nesting inside your human-host mind;
odd ghost-octopus offers undead suspension
of mortality eternally; then you find
your brain-cage opens with acute comprehension
of the shadow zone: reality behind the blind
of the sunshine surface mirage-world external
that mirrors your slumbering nightmares internal.

The Scissor Swarm swirls: stainless steel vortex,
each pair an exact spectral replica
of the murder weapon, like a witch's hex
to curse the killer's twisted erotica;
the Scissor Swarm attacks by id-like reflex,
all envisioned by the psychic Jessica
and recorded by Gordon, on the trail
to learn Bartholomew's mysterious tale.


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Reader Comments (1)

Doing a nice job with this poem dude come check out my blog too some time ... i will add you to my blog roll
July 2, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterHauntedblogger

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