Call Me Not

My phone went off today,
trilling a shrill alarm
which I ignored.
It trilled again.

I sat watching the
face light up.
Smiling at the frustration
of the caller.

Wondering who so
desperately wanted to
speak to me.
It rang once more.

I gazed at the clock,
just after two.
Strange time to call really.
I heard it ring again.

Just as loudly.

For ten minutes it rang.
I sighed and moved to
pick it up.
My fingers failed to connect.

I watched them move through
the solid casing and stepped back.
I scratched my head and heard
the door go.

I entered the hall and saw
a box being carried inside.
Not a musical box though.
This was an coffin.

I saw the familiar name plate and
reeled in utter shock.
This was my box, my body.
My funeral.

The phone still rang of course
until someone picked it up.
“Hello?”
“I’ll be late.”

Just that short reply.
My partner’s voice.
I started to fade into nothing.
Just a memory now.
 
Today I Died

When I woke this morning,
I realised that I was dead.
No pulse, no warmth.
Just a feeling of utter cold.

I stared into the mirror,
With no reflection.
I watched and waited.
But no reflection came.

I woke up this morning
Knowing I was dead.

Waiting for compassion.
Waiting for joy.
Waiting for the door to knock.
Waiting for you.

Old Sparky

I sat there as I always have,
biding my time and watching
the guards flutter past in dread.
They always looked away.

I could wait forever if need be.
Wait for my special task in
life to begin again.
Time was nothing really.

I would hear them coming.
The rattling of the chains as
another was brought.
I watched him enter nervously.

He sat as the tie down team did
their work. As the chains were
removed, and the device placed
over his crown.

I waited as he breathed long
and hard. Until the command
was given and I switched on.
Savagely.

He strained as the volts passed
through his body. Muscles locked
up and skin charring quickly.
I enjoyed this bit.

The voltage would stop and
I would hope for another charge.
It came again as sparks flew
from my wooden arms.

The current ceased once more.
The doc confirmed time of death
as the man was carried away.
I waited once more.

Alone in the death house.
Not quite though.
Ghosts and guards wandered past.
I knew that my time would come again.
 
Death Knell

The letter arrived today.
Delivered from the bowels
of hell, by one of Satan’s minions.

Dropped through the
letter box, with a soft
sound of tears.
Or was it laughter?

I opened it of course,
read the contents slowly.
Terrible emotions swept over
my shattering heart.

The dam burst again.
Tears of salt streaming
in an endless flow.
Like so many before.

Torn asunder now.
Ripped to shreds like some
mutilated corpse.
Mutilated by you.

Outside, the air is warm with
spring, and the sky is a
light blue. Birds are singing
happily.

No songs here of course.
Just eternal silence.
The silence that follows
a storm.

The living part of me has
died now.
I am but a corpse.
Dragging on toward eternity.


Satan’s Agent

She was slim and dark
with that evil twinkle in
her cold eyes.

The words that flowed
from her cruel mouth,
could tempt a cone from
the fingers of a babe.

Tall and elegant, she had
lived for centuries.
Reborn each time for one
Purpose only.

To destroy.

Many had fallen under her
evil charms.
Many had paid the ultimate
price.

The price of their eternal soul.
Crushed in that dark maw,
crushed as grapes are crushed.
Crushed to a slimy pulp.

Satan too has his winepress.
Spewing the blood of innocents.
Victims of his favourite assassin.
The soul taker.

She stalks the streets now,
searching out for the foolhardy,
the unwary.
Perhaps looking for you?
 
Horror of memory

Memory can be such a cruel thing.
Lingering long after the actual event.
Lingering like some walking ghost,
doomed never to rest.

Remembering the happy times,
remembering the sad times.
Remembering those times
we would rather forget.

Memory without end it seems.
Lurking through the dense
swirl of time.
Forever present.

Rising like the dead to
strike when you least
expect it.
Waiting until your guard is down.

You sleep, but memory lives on.
Like a being with its own passion,
its own life.
You wake in a clammy sweat.

The memory recedes now,
As you waken to another day.
To another illusion of reality.
Reality created by your dreams.
 
I Miss Mummy
By
Jerrix the Cat

I cried today because your bedroom
door was closed.
I cried and clawed at the door,
but daddy refused to open it.

I padded across the hall carpet,
glancing back as daddy worked hard.
Too hard really.
I turned and entered the rear bedroom.

Where mummy used to play music.
Where mummy used to write and phone
while daddy worked hard in the lounge.
Mummy has gone now.

I can still smell her scent
upon that chair.
I sleep upon the headrest
as I used to do.

That chair sits empty now.
Empty and alone.
I yawn and gaze around at the
bears, the cats.

Daddy’s calling now.
Teatime again.
Dreamy time.
I miss my mummy still.