Winds of the World

Desert-of-the-real

NaPoWriMo Day 9 Prompt is a 9 line poem. I am using Magic 9

The winds of the world are gathering, inciting glee in the evils of old.
The lives of the innocent are forfeited daily.
Soulless men with shiny black eyes are harbingers of doom, most bold.
Mouths foam from gas as lungs deflate.
Sand painted blood red creates anguished wails just as in revelations foretold.
Rumors of war may not be rumors.
Are those the thundering hooves of the horsemen here to collect dark, empty souls?
Life has no value as rapists rape and murderers torture, all rather gaily.
Dark shadows loom over our world ringing bells in a cacophonous death toll.

The Octochicken

After learning about the existence of the Octochicken last night, this is for my sci-fi friends….Garrett, Angie, Paul, Sylvia, Angela and Andrew! Beware the octochicken!

The octochicken crawled out of its web
with two weeping eyes on top of its head.
Best not to be caught alone in its’s room,
Those quick, skinny legs will spell your sure doom.

With a jump and a squawk
and a gittyup as it walks,
it shoots a strand of gossamer silk.
Woe be the one who becomes his milk.

Lumps of prey hang in the web overhead
encased in cacoons, forever in their eternal beds.
Run now! Run! And don’t look back.
The octochicken is coming!
He is three inches from your back.