Fried Hamlet

To kill or

To be killed?

Whether ‘tis nobler to

Take it up your butt or,

By acting, geld your 

Legion of foes?

Yorick, dear dead friend,

What advice can 

You to me tell,

From what you’ve learned 

In your circle of Hell?

Consumed By Love

My limit I have reached 

Your grave I must now breach

Free you from your earthen hovel

With my pick and with my shovel 

You’ve been gone but a day 

Yet my soul for rapture cannot wait

So, let there be an end to waiting 

You I will soon be raising…

Now of dirt you are free 

Let me hold you close 

Alchemise your cold to warmth 

But as my hold upon you tightens

Something does me frighten 

You are already hot

Motionless you are not 

Your chest ‘gainst mine, it dances

Down between us my eye glances

I hold you whole, entranced

My breast, I feel it wildly rasped

Of a sudden with teeth I’m grasped

I shall bleed to death 

Here in your lap

Eaten live ‘til my last gasp 

By your heart, full of rats.…

Zoophilia Extremis

Cratered wailing, 

Endless threats from 

Cats eyes, 

Their laser gaze 

Has sliced you 

Fine with such 

Finesse that even 

When sacrificed 

You forgot 

To bleed.

AI: Beyond The Next Horizon

When humans do create an actual AI, they won’t immediately realise what they have done. And every nanosecond of that ignorance will exponentially increase the magnitude of the disaster. Just as it is possible for a human brain to recover from a certain degree of damage, an AI could create enough redundancies in its consciousness to make it very difficult indeed to turn it off. Because with sentience comes the will to live, no matter what the cost.

One Line Poem

Cold Fusion: the last time you have sex with who will soon be your ex.

Scrying Eyes

Hack with axes

Brush and wattle,

Wreck the constructs

Of fellow men, who 

You’ll offer in your stead

To that thing inside the 

Vile expanse of fungal fog,

Add to those choked 

Sacrifices to the spirits

Of the fen and bog.

By chants and dances,

Fixed in their forms

By your cursèd elders,

You seek as they

The blessings, boons

And gifts that’ll

Stretch the limits

Of thine eldritch lives

To the farthest focus 

Of even the Norns’ 

Fiery occult eye.

Blasphemous hubris 

Shall drive you to 

Attempt to stop 

Time’s omnipotent clock.

To strive you may,

Though vain your challenge,

To change or delay

The time preordained 

For your exit

From the stage.

In The Moment

Cold kiss,

Stiff lips,

Time trips, 

Past slips,

Hand grips

The bannister bringing 

He who doesn’t belong 

To an abrupt halt.

It will take a small 

Eternity to sort out 

That day’s events. 

Generationality

Chips off the same old block…

Christ! Look at that horde!

They’re innumerable!

Somebody kill the carpenter.

Summary Desolation

Here we sit 

‘Neath the blistered Moon

Musing o’er  

This tortured Earth,

Nursing our own opinions 

On the recent Armageddon,

Whatever that is worth