and 
these pieces and authors and take a look through their galleries! Over the Moon: Exclusive Feature (Volume #9)
disconnect.I've felt a certain disconnect take hold
when I stepped out of my body
my walking corpse was thirty years old
It was the middle of the winter and I saw
when I stepped out of my body
the riots break out and I broke the law
It wasn't me I could see in the haze
when I stepped out of my body
warmed beside my incendiary's blaze
Too soon I realized, whilst it walked on
when I stepped out of my body
my paralyzed mind was prescient but gone
I was trapped outside my physical state
harrowing epiphanies came too late
my carcass threw punches and screamed out hate...
When I stepped out of my body.
Writer's BlockToo often I sit, blank pages in front of me
waiting for the right words to surge forth,
verbs escape me. Satiate the keen edged
points, disjointed? Maybe. Still I burst with
my seems not very connected. I'm rejecting
thousands of lines, I find I'm heavily sighing.
The thought of steadily marching, but then
April may remain ahead of me. I end up down
six feet from wherever I'm meant to be. Keep
pushing, waiting, rushing, stopping, seething,
hoping and rocking. My heavy metal weighs
heavily on my conscience while my mouth is
bitter sweetly singing something obnoxious.
Venomous words spew forth against targets
indirectly, like tangled webs weaved into flies
pulled out painfully. I'm reigning over my mind
less these days, it scurries away disdainfully.
In their airheadedness they blind themselves
with clouds. Once again, like an uncoordinated
ballerina, my point has gotten away from me.
If I am not careful, poetry will totally unravel.
I ramble on, hoping to get back on track. M
InfantThe stage is set...
First, the infant. Mewling and puking...
Pushed out from the claustrophobic grip
Of an overbearing parentage,
Hovered above is the fleshy hip,
Curtained stage of bridled future stars.
Monstrous is the form, their faced equine
Workhorse rides the crop on child labor.
For all their worth, dressed in summer vine,
Planted in front and centered stage
To be presented as prized cattle.
They're lived vicariously through, by
A mother's by polars embattle.
Rise ReaperRise, reaper!
Rotting romance,
Readily retching,
Ruining reality.
Revoked reign;
Revenge remains,
Reacting riotously.
Rural razing,
Roaming, ravaging.
Risk ramifications?
Running rewarded.
Reveal ravenous
Reaper! Retake
Rightful role
Ruling residents.
The Tale of Lonan the Gray CloakHere lies, in the city Cigit,
A story of good King Fridrik,
He who ruled with fairest Queen,
Aeronwen, golden skinned and lean
Princess Leandra the Modest.
She was pale skinned and was honest.
Our princess, her parents, trusted
Evelqwin, whose heart had rusted.
She sought a kingdom for her own
To share with none, to rule alone.
So, to usurp the good people,
She disguised over sheer evil.
First of her crimes, poison the queen
Secondly, dispatch allies keen
To her wicked and awful deeds
Stomping them out like nubile weeds.
Lonan, orphaned by light of moon
Returned home later, none too soon,
To end the rape of his kingdom,
To return to the world its freedom,
To hunt for any dark demon
And cut them down when he sees them.
Lonan, riding through the Hollow
Found a riverbed to follow.
He came across a spitting snake,
Before the thing a move could make,
Lonan, mounted, trampled the beast
Who bounced back not hurt in the least!
A demon it was, it attacked,
But with ease it was dispatched.
It wa
Uncle?I have a daughter
And she has a friend
His name is uncle
I let her pretend
She's getting older
But I cannot see
An end to the game
She's playing with me
My food goes missing
Some time in the night
I hear strange noises
Somewhere to my right
I notice shadows
Away from the sun
I swear she is there
And I hear her run
I have to tell her
That I'm not amused
This game disturbs me
And leaves me confused
I know I've heard her
Outside in the street
I find her sleeping
Atop of her sheet
I'm going crazy
I'm sure that I see
A man's silhouette
Somewhere beside me
A presence is close
A gasp near my head
And pulls my sheets off
The foot of my bed
Colorful LanguageMy words are red all over
By maroons of every kind
White and black attack themselves
Leaving crimson streaks behind
And the hue man condition
Is full of rhythm and blues
They rose up from the ashes
To swipe brown from their shoes
The depressive gray matter
We yell-oh complain about
I try to see through pink eyes
While colorful words spill out
Blood Will RunHere he comes,
Nameless One...
When he's done
Blood will run.
All but One
had no fun
in the sun.
With his gun,
chased the dumb.
They succumb,
fell down numb,
when he won.
He was shunned.
Lonesome one.
Nameless son,
here he comes.
A Ghost Story He walks by himself, hearing dozens of voices around him. One could imagine how madness might explain it. Thousands of lives flash before him, all at simultaneous moments, because war brings peaceful slumber forcefully. Every body he meets is, in time, buried deep in the plot. No age loss and no ill gain. No matter how tall you are you'll end up six feet shorter than all of your relatives. He also found himself under a rest, finally. He meets an older brother who looks younger by comparison. He finds a long lost family pet and never worries again that it might run away. Still, it will never move. Still, it stays put in the same place.
Requiem for him means birth, to have finished is to start. Eternity, with this new place, finally means forever. Jump down, into the outside, and you'll fall ascending. As the organs decay in a box and more memories fade in, like a dreamer the young man glides over pristine lakes. Water rolls, not in the seas of the under
