Poetry, Photography, and Scribings by Briar Moon. Horror Movie Podcast co-host (Monster Talk)
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Nobska Light
Weāre driving down this cold sugar road
As the sky begins to groan -
Youāre off to leave this foul world behind
As I face it on my own.
I set you free to face your demons
With my heart for you to hold -
Hoping you survive the coming storm
And the January cold.
In the snowy splendor of Woods Hole
Along the shores of Vineyard Sound -
Nobska Light calls me like a siren
So that soon the lost are found.
Iām standing at a blind curve
In the middle of the road -
Shine your light down, Nobska,
And help bear this heavy load.
I donāt think I have the strength
To make it all on my own -
Oā shine your light down, Nobska
And guide the way back home.
This S.O.S Iām sending lover
You have yet to still receive -
I hope you hear my message someday
For this vision, I still believe
That you will carry my weathered heart
When you leave your private hell.
I ask Nobska Light to grant this wish
Wishing her a fond farewell.
The bitter wind slaps me in the face
And chills my blood to the bone -
Getting into the car it hits me
That Iām going home alone.
Iām standing at a blind curve
In the middle of the road -
Shine your light down, Nobska,
And help bear this heavy load.
I donāt think I have the strength
To make it all on my own -
Oā shine your light down, Nobska
And guide the way back home.
The silence in the house is piercing
As I rock myself to sleep -
The bed holds a lifetime of secrets
And promises left to keep.
A month of solitude in winter
Is more than my lips can bear -
Missing all your warm midnight kisses
That still linger in the air.
The cat and dog both sigh with sorrow
Like icicles on the eaves -
Telling me that tomorrow has come
And itās time for you to leave.
Iām standing at a blind curve
In the middle of the road -
Shine your light down, Nobska,
And help bear this heavy load.
I donāt think I have the strength
To make it all on my own -
Oā shine your light down, Nobska
And guide the way back home.
Iām driving down this cold sugar road
As the pavement starts to melt -
I wonder if youāll be able to find
Everything weāve ever felt.
I pick you up from your private hell
Giving me your heart to hold -
Surviving battle-storms of demons
And the January cold.
Nobska Light shines brightly in the Sun
As the wind begins to moan -
Weāre off to face the world together
Leaving her to stand alone.
Copyright 2024 by Briar Moon
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When It Hits You
You say that you love me
Then turn to runaway,
How am I supposed to feel
When all you do is play?
Changing your affections
At a quick drop of a dime,
We had a good thing going on
But you wouldnāt make the time.
Itās time to cut the chord
From all your mindfuck games,
Your love for me is so damn fickle
And Iām tired from all the pain.
When it hits you, babe,
I wonāt be there -
Iāll be streaks of golden light
Leaving stardust in your hair.
You said I was a beacon
And how bright my light did shine,
Despite giving you my body
You refused this heart of mine.
You said I was reading into things
It was all up in my head,
But baby, you and I both know
Other lovers share your bed.
Now my friends all know
What a cad you really are,
That you took my love for granted
And left behind these silent scars.
When it hits you, babe,
I wonāt be there -
Iāll be beams of golden light
Streaking through your hair.
The best thing you ever had
Just ghosted you for good.
I walk the Earth a free spirit
Because you never understood,
That what we had was special
But you never gave me a chance -
Iām just a phantom at the door
And now you want to dance.
Sorry, my dance card is full
With guys who treat me right -
Too bad there isnāt anyone
Whoās loving you tonight.
When it finally hits you,
Babe, I wonāt be there
Iāll be lightyears away, leaving
Sparkle traces in your hair.
All at once it hits you -
That Iām really gone for good.
You canāt blame me for trying,
I did everything I could.
You thought you were too good for me
But now Iām too good for you.
There is no one who can take my place
And thereās nothing you can do.
Itās too late to want my love,
My life is finally back on track.
Iām galaxies away from you -
And Iām never looking back.
Then it really hits you, babe
That suddenly Iām no longer there.
I just streaked by, past your heart -
Leaving stardust in your hair.
Copyright 2024 by Briar Moon
#poetry#poetscommunity#poetry briar moon#poets corner#spilled words#gay poem#gay poetry#poetry post#love poem#gay poet#poetry spilled ink#poetry on love#gaymen#gay love#gay bear#gay poets#poetry life#poetry corner#poetrysociety
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The Reservoir
Thereās a reservoir I have to find
To kill this monster that lurks inside.
With one eye open it doesnāt sleep -
Oā pray thee Lord, for my soul it keeps.
On no map is this dark chasm found.
Somewhere in my body safe and sound
It harbors sweet malice mixed with shame -
Silent stigmas that wonāt go away.
Take me to the reservoir, Sugarbear,
We could jump right in and no one would care.
Hand in hand, dancing in the morning mist -
Plunging deep into this carnal abyss.
Of us, surely no one would seem to miss
The tickling remnants of our blissful kiss
Deep inside this reservoir, I have to find,
To kill this monster with a deathwish mind.
My body electric with webs of fire
Burns since I followed my true heartās desire-
With one eye open it pretends to sleep
In a shrouded void, my soul it keeps.
Take me to the reservoir, Sugarbear,
We could dive right in and no one would care,
To kill this monster, so cunning, so quick -
Making my body so quietly sick.
As we travel further down into this dark abyss
That all started with the taint of an innocent kiss,
The pressure builds faster and harder in my swollen ears.
Deeper and deeper until the worldās light disappears.
And all thatās left is me and the darkness of the monster -
I lost you along the way, somewhere over yonder.
When it comes to loving men, the monster always wins -
And then I mourn the loss of you all over again.
Take me to the reservoir, Sugarbear,
We could dive right in and disappear -
To drown searching for the reservoir I cannot find
Leaving the monsters of this world behind.
Copyright 2024 by Briar Moon
#poetry#poetscommunity#poetry briar moon#spilled words#poets corner#gay poem#gaylove#gay poetry#lgbtq community#gay poet#love poem#death poem#dark poetry#poetry post
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Cameo
In the city of a thousand steeples
I look for you in the congregations of people,
Knowing that youāre nowhere to be found ā
Thereās always a reason to never stick around.
Iām just a specter floating through the crowds,
An afterthought dissolving into the midday clouds.
In your movie, just a cameo ā
Cut without even giving us a chance to grow.
When will the whole world stop going by
To give you enough time to realize,
That I want more than you know how to give ā
Running away from love is no way to live.
The June heat in Hellās Kitchen smells like trash
And spent sex. Iām burning up into a pile of ash
That you swiftly sweep down the gutter,
Even though for my yearning I know you flutter.
Becoming someone who I thought I knew
Ravages me when you promised to be tried-and-true.
Yet youād rather play a cameo ā
Fading away to someone who I used to know.
When will the whole world stop going by
To give you time enough to realize,
That I want more than you know how to give
Running away from us is no way to live.
The city of a hundred alleys sings
As I admire blue stained-glass windows and angel wings,
And ignite a dozen prayer candles
For this heart on fire is more than I can handle.
Notre-Dame Basilica seems to know
What itās like to be so in love and feel so alone.
At the church, I leave a cameo ā
Hoping someday youāll see our love can build a home.
When will the whole world stop going by
To give you enough time to realize,
That I want more than you know how to give
Running away from love is no way to live.
Copyright 2024 by Briar Moon
#poetry#spilled words#poetscommunity#poets corner#poetry briar moon#loveppoem#lgtbtq#lgbtq community#gay poet#gaylove#gay poetry#gay poem
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Santa Ana Winds
You left me stranded in a sea of clones
Floating on this island all by myself;
I never thought youād leave me all alone ā
You werenāt supposed to be like everybody else.
You left my soul on a dusty shelf
Inside a cobalt jar full of sorrow;
No kind goodbyes or fond farewells ā
Kept me hanging on the line waiting for tomorrow.
Thereās a burning in my aching bones
And your shoulderās feeling oh so cold;
I canāt explain this wild state Iām in ā
It must be those Santa Ana winds.
You took the red eye back to the wasteland
All at once Iām nothing but a ghost;
Tell me the truth, baby, if you can ā
Why wonāt it be me that you will miss the most?
Flying high above the Atlantic coast
Iām nothing but a stranger in your eyes;
I guess I made the perfect scapegoat
For you to leave the stardust of this world behind.
Thereās a brushfire in your desert bones
And my bodyās feeling oh so cold;
I canāt explain this wild state youāre in ā
It must be those Santa Ana winds.
Boy, I tried to give you all my light
Until there was nothing but a spark;
It was easy for you to take flight ā
Running away to leave me lingering in the dark.
Iām rotting in the state of Denmark
As you travel the Pacific coast;
To swim with the mermen and the sharks ā
Someone I used to know, just another hollow ghost.
Thereās an inferno in our scorched bones
And our bodies no longer feel cold;
I canāt explain this wild state weāre in ā
It must be those Santa Ana Winds.
All thatās left is my soul on your shelf ā
I wasnāt supposed to be like everybody else.
Copyright 2023 By Briar Moon
#poetscommunity#spilled words#poetry#poets corner#poetscafe#poetsandwriters#poetrysociety#poetry briar moon#poetryspeaks#spilled poetry#lgbtq community#poetry lovers#spilled heart#heartbroken#heartbreak#love poetry#gay bear
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The Day Betty White Died
I bought a hand gun
The day Betty White died
At the age of 99;
Nothing really special, hun,
Just a Ruger 45.
Your un-woke asshole reeks
From the shit your mad mouth spews,
Between those orange cheeks
In front of all these pews.
Iām tired of their twisted lips
Spiitting toxic viper vile,
Over their silicone tits
And plastic cherry smiles.
Kenny aināt doinā nothing
To make this country great,
Sipping gin from red Solo cups
Ice cold with so much hate.
I bought a hand gun
The day Betty White died;
A pretty-in-pink one -
Why are you so surprised?
To them, weāre all weirdo freaks
Mock righteousness they choose,
When pecking their crooked beaks
At loose bags of nuts and screws.
A merry round of pistols whip
These Proud Boys into shape,
With a gaggle of firm grips
And dazzling rainbow capes.
Karen aināt doinā nothing
To make this country great,
Serving slices of poison pie
On fancy Chinet plates.
All this too shall come to pass
When I cap a bullet in your ass.
I bought a hand gun
The day Betty White died;
Not for sport or fun
Just trying to survive.
In a sea of sheep
Sailing on a ship of fools,
Pray the Lord, their souls to keep
Courtesy of Fox News.
Flo can kiss my grits
There wonāt be any trial,
No judges to acquit
When I blast those redneck smiles.
They aināt doinā nothing
To make this country great,
Wearing their red dunce caps
Yāall hennies took the bait.
I bought a hand gun
The day Betty White died;
Chic-Fil-A better run
Before I cross the other side.
There wonāt be any jury
No church bells down the aisle,
Our palms are clenched with fury
Cuz you treaded on our style.
We donāt wish you well
Itās time to face the nation,
You wonāt live to tell
When you face our congregation.
You aināt doinā nothing
To make this country great,
This is the hate you breed when
Indifference learns to procreate.
All this too shall come to pass
When I cap a bullet in your ass.
I bought a hand gun
The day Betty White died
At the age of 99;
Nothing really special, hun,
Just trying to survive.
Copyright 2023 by Briar Moon
#poetry#spilled words#poetscommunity#poetry briar moon#poetscafe#poets corner#poetsandwriters#spilled poetry#poetryspeaks#spilled ink#poetrysociety#spilled poem#poetsclub#poetrysoup#thepoetscorner#new poets society#spilled thoughts#poets and writers#poetrycorner#poetslife#gay bear#gay men#lgbtqa#queer poetry#gay poets
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House of Sighs
My breath roams restless in this House of Sighs
Nestled dark along the cemeteryās edge,
Shrouded by tangled webs of twisted pines ā
Bones buried deeply beneath the boxwood hedge.
In the attic window, a glimpse may fetch
Mater Suspiriorum, Mother of Sighs,
Wheezing in her rocking chair, cunning wretch,
Slowly suffocating in your demon eyes.
Hear her burning, an inferno she cries,
Mater Lachrymarum, Mother of Tears,
Howling past the doorsill through the Moonrise
Oāer a yard of rusty vans and drunken queers.
In the angst of winter, she smells your fears,
Mater Tenebrarum, Mother of Darkness,
Cackling as the Peacock Angel appears
In a hidden vault of midnight starkness.
Shrouded she slumbers, our Mother of Sighs
Behind a wall of blue irises, she hears,
The slaying of the onyx bird with fifteen eyes
And the rolling of seven marble spheres.
Startled awake, the witches know its time ā
They release your zombie tangled in the vetch
To roam this viny labyrinth of lies,
Crunching beers cans like skulls in every step.
Walking on crushed bones of lost compromise
I wander this void forever torn apart,
Forsaken, trying to rescue our tainted love
In this maze of darkness you call a heart.
I cannot breathe in this lonesome House of Sighs
Nestled dark along the cemeteryās edge,
Shrouded by tangled webs of twisted pines ā
Bones buried deeply beneath the boxwood hedge.
Copyright 2023 by Briar Moon
#horror#suspiria#horror poem#lgtbtq#gay poets society#spilled words#poetscommunity#poetry#poetry briar moon#poetscafe#poetsandwriters#poets corner#spilled poetry#poetrysociety#spilled ink#poetryspeaks#spilled poem#poetsclub#spilled thoughts#poetrysoup#thepoetscorner#poetrycorner#poets and writers#new poets society#poetslife#gay men#love poem
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#summer garden#garden porn#gardenphotography#flower photography#outdoor photography#gardening#garden
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As a teaser to our Killer Klowns from Outer Space episode, Reanimator Rob dishes out some hot scoops of killer clown news. Plus, the MonsterTalk Podcast crew wants to know: Are you afraid of clowns?

#horror monsters#horror#clown#killer klowns from outer space#horror podcast#horror fan#horror art#horror flicks
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Check out our latest episode https://open.spotify.com/episode/50Eork1n1PvU4mrOsvnr7Z?si=5VZ48IGlTA-agfA55oxXEA

#horror fan#horror monsters#horror#horror podcast#horror film#horror flicks#april fools#april fools day#Spotify
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Check out our latest podcast episode: https://open.spotify.com/episode/4DCAimjCuxSCEjntzj7lr2?si=4z9IOYeVTNK7QaY21fsVMA
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Listen to our latest MonsterTalk Podcast where we review Alien (1979)
https://open.spotify.com/episode/2vPMTlnNaLp3adGqxkqVZQ?si=gRnbY5KsRjqJSiUuhHV5Zg
#horror monsters#horror fan#horror podcast#horrorqueers#horrormovies#horrorart#science fiction#sci fi movie#sci fi film#sci fi#sci fi art#horrorgeek#gayhorror#Spotify
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We decided to go into another category for the first time: Science Fiction! What better horror/sci-fi movie could we have reviewed for this genre than the great "Alien" from 1979?!
#horrorfan#horror podcast#alien#sci-fi#science fiction#horrormovies#horror#horror movie#podcast#horror flicks#horror fan#alien1979#Spotify
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Donāt forget to tune into our latest Monster Talk Podcast, where we review Suspiria (1977). #horrorpodcast #horrormovies #giallo #suspiria #monstertalk #horrorart #horrorfilm #horrorcommunity #darioargento
#horrorqueers#horror movies#horror film#horror podcast#horror#horror art#horror monsters#horror flicks#horrorfiend#horrorfan#horror fan#horror community#suspiria#suspiria 1977#dario argento#podcast#moviepodcast
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We are back and ready to talk more movies at Monster Talk Podcast! With season two, we decided to start with the classic giallo horror: "Suspiria" from 1977. We changed up the format a bit and we hope you all like it.
#Suspiria#horrorqueers#horror monsters#horror movies#horror film#horror#horror podcast#giallo#moviepodcast#movies#podcast#monster#monstertalk#Spotify
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Bleeding Blue
Sweet Nitya, the bleeding blue is frustrating you-
Like the cruel clutch of bitter winter, it soaks through,
Layer by layer, seeping into these cold bones,
Until imperfections on canvas are exposed.
A light blemish dwells, steeping into a dark blue-
In your acrylic diffidence, this much is true;
The swell of bleeding blue I find quite beautiful,
Like starfish clinging to the whirls of tidal pools.
Their arabesque is eternal as your virtue-
Painted with flames of cotton feathers in ecru,
Eclipsing the pale Sun disguised as the Wolf Moon
While sea urchins pirouette to Incandescent Blue.
The worldās survival dance is a rainbow of hues,
Hanging in your hallway amidst this bleeding blue;
Crooked as a dragonās jaw clenching a jilted muse
Who holds a kaleidoscope of iridescent truths.
Inside this prism, perspectives shift with each view;
Yet, forever faithful remains the bleeding blue,
Never changing its devotion to these cold bones
Painted on linen revealing this forgotten truth:
Iāll always find your imperfection quite beautiful.
Copyright 2022 by Briar Moon
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Happy New Year from all of us at Monster Talk Podcast. Enjoy this Season One Montage and donāt forget to listen to our season finale, available on most podcast platforms.
Link tree: https://linktr.ee/monstertalkpodcast

#horrormovies #horrorcommunity #horrorfan #moviepodcast #horror #monstertalk #maniac #midsommar #straitjacket #dolls #lightsout #halloween1978 #halloween2 #Scream #streettrash #thankskilling #blackchristmas #lettherightonein #krampus #GraveEncounters #horrorpodcast
#horror art#horror#horror podcast#horror movies#horrorqueers#horrorfilm#scream#halloween#maniac#Midsommar#straitjacket#let the right one in#krampus#street trash#thankskilling#black christmas#grave encounters#dolls#lights out#halloween 2 1981
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