Art As Of Insanity By John Patrick Robbins

I wish only to escape, into where dreams and nightmares converge.

In that place, innocence can thrive, and hearts can exist. If even darkened by others.

Far away from this disease-cast scene, I will exist upon the outskirts with those

 who yearn only to taste what I have once indulged upon.

The poison is sweet, as is the allure of anything that holds no true substance.

It is hollow much as is the concept of love.

I view them as children, never equals.

 As we are not the same, never make that mistake in reading my lines or assuming

I want anything from you beyond this moment.

Art is not happiness, it is my realm of existence.

I read the words of a friend upon his deathbed. They bled passion.

Beyond an imbecile striving for social acceptance, they clung 

to a life lived that would soon be withered within a goodbye.

I respect what is real, never what is crafted under the guise of anything to amuse

let alone kiss the backside of some tyrant's ego.

Run towards the lights, and I promise you, you will find nothing more than a mirage.

As your lungs struggle and you fall upon ever-shifting sands, 

for you cannot command a stranger's attention, let alone their devotion.

Never chase, simply open the artery and bleed your passion till nothing else is left.

Take that path that others avoid.

Art is forever hopeless and that in its 

purest essence is why I so deeply desire its rejection.

For if ever I were to know acceptance.

I would know I somehow fucked up.

JPR, is a Southern Gothic writer his work has been published in Fixator Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal,  Disturb The Universe, Horror Sleaze Trash, Piker Press, Spill The Words Press and The Dope Fiend Daily.

His work is often dark and always unfiltered.

Corpse Consumption By John Patrick Robbins

Words like weapons are always best refined to a surgical precision.

A battle within, an outward illusion, a burden to fight.

Nights bring out the beast, which, in turn, will be your fatal mistake in the trust and torments we share.

Traumas are devils of endless slumber’s destruction.

Caged is the predator, but a chemical restraint is temporary.

Hell's fury is humanity, never some folklore bullshit.

Fear not the reaper; fear thy neighbor whose ignorance is a spark to poison others.

The well’s oasis is but an acid bath of mental treason.

Hate spreads faster than any cancer.

Avoid the light of another's fire, for what drives them will just as easily incinerate you.

All life is but a corpse in the making.

Waste not, want not.

John Patrick Robbins, is a Southern Gothic writer.

His work has been published in.

Disturb The Universe, Fixator Press, Piker Press, The Dope Fiend Daily, Horror Sleaze Trash, Schlock Magazine, Punk Noir Magazine, Yellow Mama Webzine and Lothlorien Poetry Journal.

His newest book is Lost Within The Garden Of Heathens written with Kevin M. Hibshman.

It is published by Whiskey City Press and available through Amazon.

his work is dark and often unfiltered.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DKHRDQD5

Part of the Playbook By Taylor Dibbert

When the narcissist 

Bombards you

With text messages

And emails

They’re trying to

Suck you

Back in,

It’s all part 

Of their playbook,

Don’t fall 

For it.

Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. “Rescue Dog,” his fifth book, was published in May.

Petty Salad Takedown By Taylor Dibbert

He makes
A salad for
The four
Of them
To go
With the
Amy’s pizza
That they
Are having
For dinner
And shortly after
The four
Of them
Sit down
To dinner
His wife
Starts complaining
About the salad
And says that
Certain pieces
Of arugula
Are bad and
Should have never
Made their way
Into the salad,
The kids don’t
Say anything
During this time,
He hasn’t given up
On their marriage
At this point
And he doesn’t
Fully appreciate
The consequences
Of that decision
Until later
Because what’s coming
Will be far worse
Than this
Petty salad takedown.

Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. “Rescue Dog,” his fifth book, was published in May.

Iron Lung, Barred Soul By JPR & Kevin M. Hibshman

 

Steep is the jumping-off point; remorse is the burden of the soulless creatures of perpetual content.

I am moving through endless hallways,  breathless with fear. No one can open the doors for me. The darkness eats my sight and haunts my judgment.

I've run a gauntlet of razor wires elusive promise. Of false hope mired in brutal truths.

The past is a cemetery filled with regrets.

Dutiful student turning blue. Vomiting oceans of abominable lies. We spit in the face of bloodless heroes who sacrificed so many innocent lives.

Two cents for the ferryman to go fuck himself.I've long since seared my flesh along with severed all ties somewhere once upon the river Styx.

John Patrick Robbins, is a southern gothic writer.

His work has been featured at Fixator Press, Horror Sleaze Trash,  Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Disturb The Universe, Piker Press, Impspired Magazine, Punk Noir Magazine and The Dope Fiend Daily.

His work is often dark and always unfiltered.

Kevin M. Hibshman has had poems published in many journals and magazines world wide.In addition, he has edited his poetry zine, Fearless, since 1990 and is the author of sixteen chapbooks including Love Sex Death Dreams (Green Bean Press, 2000) and Incessant Shining (Alternating Current, 2011).

His current book Cease To Destroy from Whiskey City Press is currently available on Amazon.

Letting Go By Taylor Dibbert

He remembers

Playing cards

At their place

The in-laws

Were in town

And he doesn't 

Even remember

What game 

They were playing

He just remembers

His mother-in-law

Complaining about something

And being a sore loser

Which was a regular thing

And he remembers

Getting annoyed

And also

Acting annoyed

And then

When it was time 

For the in-laws 

To go 

To their hotel

For the night

He went to the kitchen

To wash the dishes

And in hindsight

His marriage 

Was over 

Long before 

That unpleasant night

But it was nights

Like that one

That have made

It easier

To let go.

Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. “Rescue Dog,” his fifth book, was published on May 7.

A Weedeater Lobotomy By John Patrick Robbins

       

Skull fucked into submission, nobody speaks an ounce of truth, but they can sure spew that bullshit.

Everyone's got a hustle; let's pull the grenades pin and seek shelter behind some tight-bodied teens' paywall.

I won't cash in my dignity for a go-fund me, but I will most certainly drink myself into the grave.

Man's desire to claim everything that is just beyond reach.

I crave nothing but silence like a cemetery, and only my thoughts alone to drive me insane.

I may shoot Clorox to cleanse my arteries because my soul is fucked.

Never sweat the decay. The earth is cold, as so is a corpse.

My cough syrup paired well with the gasoline I huffed.

I treat my brain as a test subject.

I am dying to learn the results.

Crashed the course straight into a brick wall.

I'm only temporarily brain-damaged; in other words, I'm probably okay.

JPR, is a southern gothic writer, his work has been published in Lothlorien Journal Of Poetry, Fixator Press, Impspired Magazine, Spill The Words Pres, Disturb The Universe, Fearless Poetry Zine, The Dope Fiend Daily, Horror Sleaze Trash.

His newest book is Midnight Masochism from Black Circle Publishing available on Amazon.