#mortismacabre

[mortismacabre]

A Soft Invitation

You are welcome inside my blanket fort. I declare it's a fort of the softest sort. If asked to review, I'm quite sure that you would be very kind in your report.

[sirenslairwriting]

Stories with Siren Update!

The podcast as adding an additional (and unscheduled) branch: bite-sized pieces of fiction!

This first one is a narration from a poem here on Tumblr, written by mortismacabre as part a Patreon request. All credit for the writing goes to the original author.

To check out this tasty little snack, check it out here: https://youtu.be/Y9e-5uyYTaM

[mortismacabre]

It's Contagious

Itchy eyes, coughing, sneezing shortened breath, fatigue, and wheezing. Of all these symptoms I was clear (except, of course, for crippling fear).

Rush to Costco, start to hoard. Buy items I can ill-afford. Grab all the water (Crystal Geyser) & 16 pallets hand sanitizer

Events are canceled. Schools will close. Don't touch your face, your eyes, or nose I was locked inside; could not be safer. 'Til I was crushed by toilet paper

[mortismacabre]

Runaway

If you’re reading this letter, you know that I’ve left. I’ve packed up all my things which I heave with much heft.

I’ve packed oyster crackers, And three pairs of socks. six peanut butter sandwiches, and my collection of rocks.

I have twelve comic books, I can read before night. I have a pack of fresh C’s to refill my flashlight.

You can’t change my mind, Mom, I’ve left you forever. I know that your worried, but still, I endeavor.

I am my own man now, just an eight-year-old dude. You won’t see me again, unless I run out of food.

[mortismacabre]

Best Nine 2018 - Some giveaways, some lego. I am honestly surprised that two of the poem pics were so high. Still weird that a picture of me ended up in the list again. I am also happy so many people liked my nighttime walk through of this year's spoopy yard. #bestnine2018 #topnine2018 #mortismacabre #bootlego #farfewercatpicsthaniimagined https://www.instagram.com/p/BsDqrLNlO1Q/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1izjesp4g3mzg

[mortismacabre]

Come on In

The ladies in my cellar just don’t talk too much, They are not loud as a crowd, Nor are they boisterous.

They lie there in my cellar and don’t raise a fuss. I must say sir, They’re good neighbors, And they daren’t cuss.

Their manners are something that I’d never shunt. Though i must tell That their smell Is quit fragrant.

The smiles on their faces just don’t go away. Cant keep within, Those toothy grins. I’m very glad to say.

I fear they’ve gotten lonesome, what am I to do? How can I aid, My dearest maids? Thats why I’ve come to you.

I’ve tried all other options, there’s just nothing left. They won’t be saddened, When your added, Now please watch your step.

Play nice now with the ladies and enjoy your stay. And at your end You’ll make good friends. As you rot and decay.

[mortismacabre]

David picks up a banana and presses it to his butt. He pulls the sewing needle and fires off a raisin. His head explodes like a turkey sandwich, chunks of toe matter flying across the golf course and sticking to pictures of his family members. As he bleeds out on the carpet his life fades into farts...

A Mad Libs Suicide.

[mortismacabre]

The Haunting of Hensley Park

Gather ye children, for now we’ll embark, on a journey to the haunted grounds of Hensley Park. We’ll see phantoms and wraiths, and ghosts of all sorts. So keep an eye on your friends and other co-horts. You’ll meet Big Ole Bertha, who was flung from the “The Noose.” It appears to have happened when some screws had come loose.

People say Rick suffocated (but that’s not true, of course). He was flung from the saddle of a carousel horse. 

There’s Electrified Tommy; the bumper car spirit. We told him not to ride it wet, but he just wouldn’t hear it.

He’s joined by sweet Mary, who was warned she might drown, when she rode on the log flume and refused to sit down.

It’s not only guests who’ve met such sad fates. After walking on through, These Hensley Park gates.

Coaster op Robert, such sense did he lack. Didn’t listen for the train before crossing the track.

Suzy ran the test of strength until the end of her day. Til’ that guest swung for fences with her head in the way.

Thank you for touring Hensley Park, and if you haven’t had enough. We offer an eternal pass, so come on and step right up!

[mortismacabre]

You’re Mine

A box of poisoned chocolates, a teddy stuffed with gore, a nightie made of human flesh, Don’t gag, I’ll give you more.

How about a box of roses laced with cyanide? Would that not be the perfect way to ask you to be mine?

I’m waiting for your answer, Be my Valentine, my dear? ...No? Oh what a pity, I’ll try again next year.

[mortismacabre]

Tiny Boxes: Amanda

Here now she rests, Amanda P. Kraft. Careened off a cliff, When her bike-chain had snapped.

[mortismacabre]

Tiny Boxes: Amanda #poems #poetry #poet #poemsofinstagram #poetsofinstagram #rhymepoem #rhymepoetry #rhyme #rhyming #rhymingpoem #rhymingpoetry #deadkids #cemetery #epitaphs #headstone #gravetone #tombstone #darkpoem #darkpoetry #dark #darkhumor #funnypoem #funnypoetry #gorey #morbid #mortismacabre #macabre #grim #grisly

[mortismacabre]

Tiny Boxes: Bobby #shortpoetry #shortpoem #rhymepoem #rhymepoetry #rhymingpoem #rhymingpoetry #darkpoem #darkpoetry #darkhumor #funnypoem #funnypoetry #mortismacabre #instapoem #poetsofinstagram #epitaphs #graveyard #cemetery

[mortismacabre]

Switch Up

Cops surround the restaurant; bodies strewn about. Cupid’s in a panic. No way he’s getting out.

If only he could tell them, “They mixed up my delivery! I bought this quiver off the web, they gave me the wrong arrows, see?!”

[mortismacabre]

Tiny Boxes: Samantha

Rest in piece 8 year old Samantha B. Simms. Was sucked out a window by strong gale force winds.

[mortismacabre]

Here boy!

My what a strange dog, I see at my feet, He’s the oddest old pooch That I ever did meet.

He has no soft fur, he’s just covered in scales. And has just the longest, And strongest of tails.

His legs are all gone, How’s he supposed to run? He just lies on the ground And flicks out his tongue.

Dogs are so hyper, Bound hither and thither, This one I fear, Much prefers to just slither.

He doesn’t play fetch, or bark, and get this: When I asked him to speak, All he said was “Hiss”

I bought him a collar, But it just wouldn’t fit, He lunged at my throat, I’m afraid I’ve been bit.

Down boy! Bad dog! He’s got some fight in him. Unfortunately it seems, He also had venom.

My vision grows blurry, My eyes turn to fog. As I start to think, It might not be a dog.

Oh silly me, I see my mistake, He wasn’t a puppy! It was a green–

[mortismacabre]

Writer's Block

Staring at a blinking cursor, Playlist droning on. I have so much the will to write, But skills are all but gone. All day I longed for some quiet, a pen, A paper, a keyboard to write. But now that I have time and tools in my hand, There's no story or poem in sight. I'm an author, a poet, I love telling tales, Surely I can't have run dry. I've not told enough stories, or wrote enough rhymes! This can't be my time to die. Curse you, block, you're killing my dreams, You silence my soul and my voice. This isn't some hobby, to write is to live You act like I do this by choice. So selfish, so greedy, so evil you are. Please unleash my muses, wherever they are. There's no hero to cheer for, no heel to despise, No Princess to save, no twist, no surprise. No thriller, No chiller, No suspense filled true crime No drama, No trauma, No opening line. You mock me, I hear it, you laugh in the night. You berate me and think me a fool. Release me, you bastard, unlock my hands now. I'll not be a slave to your rule. I'll sing songs with my fingers, let my words paint such art, I'll spin yarns that will touch Your withering heart. I'll slay you, black dragon, My sword raised on high, You'll beg me for mercy, As your cries fill the sky. I'll rescue my dreams to tell stories, you'll see. I'll never allow you to win over me. I'll stab you, I'll slay you, my weapon aims true, You cannot escape me, there's nothing to do. They'll speak my name proudly, "a great writer!“ they'll say. They'll read my books loudly, I'm happy to say. No one will know you, you're nothing, I promise, I'll keep you a secret, I swear. I'll lock you away where no one will find you I'll starve you with seldom a care. My passion is strong now, I will not back down, Such furvor has rarely been seen. I slash at your throat as I type on my keyboard, As a splash of your blood fills my screen. Your entrails form stanzas, your flesh becomes prose. I fashion a sonnet, From the tip of your nose. I slay you foul demon! To hell I now send! As I finish typing just two words: "The End"