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The day dawned dark and grim
As I arose from the depths of nightmare.
I gazed with fear my window from
And saw the streets outside were bare.
The city was deserted, a gilded grave of glass.
I started out upon the street,
And not a soul I met as I went along;
For none was there to meet.
The sun shone green betwixt the clouds,
A cast of light I never saw;
And the wind blew strong and cold,
The air was harsh and raw.
And then at last, an empty highway on,
I met what might have been my twin–
Save the empty sockets for his eyes,
And his cacodaemoniac grin.
He smirked, as if ‘t were all some joke.
And then he melted to a bloody pulp.
And it was then–I think–that I awoke.

by on

The hour was late, and the guardsman held his lonely vigil.
A moonless night, disturbed only by things which might be;
The imagined things which almost don’t exist, but leave their sigil
Imprinted on the black depths of humanity’s genetic memory.

As the guard gazes into the night, what monsters may be there?
Whence come the phantasmal sounds that make him raise his gun?
Is the darkness populated with fiends, lurking everywhere–
Or are the beasts loosed within his brain, content therein to run?

Is it a comfort to say that tales of these abominations
Are products of our minds; some mentally abhorrent whim?
If the vilest of monsters are the works of our imaginations,
Then what kind of things are we who have imagined them?

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[AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a draft of a song I wrote for a never-finished musical. It was to be sung by a football coach character loosely based on Bill Belichick, Mike Martz and Gus Malzahn.]

A strategist like Clausewitz or Bonaparte,
If he survived into the modern age,
Would choose to demonstrate his art
With a hundred-yard gridiron for a stage.

Take tomorrow’s game for an example:
Should we try to run the ball,
And see if their line’s one we can trample–
Or should we throw it, and not run at all?

I plan to come out in the “I formation”
And fake the handoff to the back.
And they will fall for it on some occasion–
And then we will unleash the deep attack!

Of course, we still will run it now and then,
But with receivers, or perhaps the quarterback:
As is known by all great military men:
“Outnumber ’em at the point of your attack!”

We must disguise formations, put the ‘backs in motion;
To figure out the matchups that are in our favor.
And if we pull that off, I have a notion
That this victory is one our fans will savor.

It’s not just gladiatorial playing–
In spite of what the journalists will claim;
I think I am quite justified in saying:
“Football is a Thinking Man’s Game!”

by on

All of us dressed in our Witch-Sabbath best
To celebrate Halloween’s coming.
There was the Countess Villette and her one-eyed pet
Hosting that mad night of mumming.
There was the fiery hell-cat, in her black pointed hat,
And a lumbering mountainous man.
There was the old gypsy crone, and a creature unknown
Who looked like a doll from Japan.
O! Not even the Devil could imagine that revel;
That cosmic costume soirée of the weird.
Its ghoulish appeal was so very surreal
And nothing was what it appeared.
We laughed and we danced, and all were entranced
As if by some powerful hex.
The fiendish fell spell could be felt down to Hell;
A cocktail of madness and laughter and sex.
Then the clock struck thirteen, and with that, Halloween
Had ended as fast as it came.
And everyone vanished–the occult magic was banished,
And once more, all was quiet and tame.

by on

In the warm October e’en, the young man sits

And dreams of her he set his heart upon.

By the fading light of the fire pits,

In the gentle wind, all low and wan–

He fancies she is here with him

As his companion and his lover.

And though the light grows ever dim,

And the blue and gloomy clouds roll over–

For a moment, it’s as if they are together

Cuddling close beside the pulsing embers;

Braving all the world’s forbidding weather.

But then–alas! The lad remembers–

Remembers ev’rything that went before.

And dwells upon what he regretteth most.

And then he is alone again once more;

And she is gone, like a fleeting Autumn ghost.

by on

Upon the verdant fields, the summer sun shines bright and warm.

And from behind the hill, the sound of cheerful chatter rises.

Yet, ‘neath the tranquil mask, there hides a heart all black and filthy

Pumping out the wretched blood that this facade disguises.

Upon these lovely fields, the very souls are sacrificed

To those damned Gods who dwell in other horrid spheres.

Behind the people’s laughter is a growl, inhuman and unholy,

Of something in the shadows that grows hungry as it hears

The poor unthinking wretches who frolic in its thrall.

Beneath the chiming bells, the passer-by may see its soul:

The ossified remains of carnivores and monsters

A-dragged up from some old and stinking wormy hole.

******************************

The pretty city brims with personalities so witty,
Who, recalling naught of times gone past,
Celebrate the future, knowing it can never come,
And optimism is the only thing to last.

But off the shore there lies the glinting lizard eyes
Awaiting as the predator the fateful opportunity.
For howsoever far civilizations come
There remain those lacking in remorse or pity.

Guided by the cosmic laws, by no ideas or cause,
There loom the claws of obsolescence.
From somewhere across the bay seems to come
A fearful, frightful wail of demoniac essence.

But neither God nor Devil could long becalm the revel,
But perhaps they did not want or need to.
For all these things must end, howe’er that end must come;
It cometh no matter what the revelers do.

******************************
In spite of their political biases, newsmagazines
Often have some excellent photographs.
I once saw a picture of the seaside that
Might have been an impressionist painting.
The truth of course is much more ugly.

Even the sea lies.

******************************

“All forks in the road are as knives in the flesh”,
Said the Commander to his men.
The Enemy approaches, binding us with blood,
Yet I know my loyalty must be to my love.
But faced with the choice of my love or
my hunger, which to choose?
And so I am a courier, a runner,
And I’m back in the ancient tomb,
And the ruin’d palace, and the museum,
And the casino, and the farmlands,
And my choice is the same as it ever was;
Between power and love. Yet!—
Perhaps it is no choice at all. I may
Have both, or neither. Such is the
Nature of things that choices appear
As if they were not. And I still see
Her hair, and her eyes and her body
And her shoes.
The clock is digital, so there is no ticking,
Only the sound of the battery.
I shudder as I gaze into the simmering
Void that mocks my existence,
And I fear death, not because I wish to live,
But because I cannot lose my thoughts of her.
I steady myself. The minds of Gods and Goddesses
Dead or Never Living seem to reach me.
Left or Right or otherwise
Make the move.

by on

The statue spoke with a voice that echoed for centuries
As we stood in that dread cosmic citadel.
Surrounded by the dying celestial bodies,
It pronounced its sentence upon me.

Was it all predetermined? said I,

And was answered only by silence.
I gazed again into the eerie twilight of infinity.
For minutes verging on eons, we drifted
Into the quiet certainty of decay.

I spoke again, knowing the question at last:

Could I have changed it?

A bell chimed in the blackness.
The Statue Spoke,
and all that remained of Creation spoke with it:

Would you?

I looked at the darkness without
That was as Sol itself compared
To the darkness within.
I had known what it all meant
When I made my decisions.
I may have hoped otherwise–
But I had known.

No, I said finally.

All at once, the Fortress began to collapse,
And my Stony companion and I
Were left to the pitiless void.
And before the Universe and I felt each other snuffed out
That awful voice said to me:

Then it was you who predetermined it.

by on

In this forest, each night seemeth haunted and dark;
The cold Autumn landscape relentlessly stark;
While the beasts of the night snarl and bark–
As in legends of Devils and Ghosts.

I can hear the melancholy wind as it moans,
Swirling around the trees and the stones,
Making the branches to rattle like bones,
As night birds cry out from their posts.

In the dying orange light of the fire
The shadows a-dancing begin to inspire
Shimmering shapes all dreadful and dire
Surrounding me here in my room.

I glance at the door, to be sure of the lock,
Another wind gust makes the cabin walls rock.
And I fancy I hear an inhuman voice talk
And whisper of pain and of doom.

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At last, football is (almost) back!   I love the Hall of Fame Game weekend.  Sure, the game is barely actual football, and I’ll probably tune out after the first two series, but it’s nice to start the season off with a little appreciation for the sport’s history, followed by a nice, easy re-introduction to watching football.  It would be no fun to just dive right in to the regular season right away, now would it?

Yeah, ok; maybe it would.

Anyway, it’s time once again for my annual haiku football season predictions.  I’m pretty proud of last year’s predictions, in which I correctly picked the Patriots to beat the Seahawks in the Super Bowl. Let’s see how I do this year.

AFC East

Patriots

The Defending Champs

Make it back to the playoffs–

But lose their first game.

Bills

Loaded on defense–

But offense doesn’t seem to

Be “The Real McCoy.”

Dolphins

Improvements will make them

A wild card contender–

But can’t beat the Pats.

Jets

Rex Ryan Redux–

With a lackluster offense

And a strong defense.

AFC North

Ravens

Flacco will surprise;

And they ride his career year

To the Super Bowl.

Steelers

Changes on defense

Will be too much for loaded

“O” to overcome

Bengals

Dalton and Lewis

Get one more Sisyphean

Underwhelming year.

Browns

Can Johnny 12-step

Still be the Cleveland savior?

Wouldn’t bet on it.

AFC South

Colts

It’s just like old times–

A strong regular season

Followed by heartbreak.

Jaguars

They’ll be really bad–

Like, really, really awful–

As in, not too good.

Titans

Mariota is

The next “game changing” QB

Who crashes and burns.

Texans

Strong defensive line

Coupled with decent offense

Makes them a sleeper.

AFC West

Broncos

There’s an old man called

“Peyton Manning”. He’s still smart.

But he should retire…

Chargers

…But “Old Man Rivers”

Still has a few good years left.

Will win Division

Raiders

They say Carr is good,

But I am still skeptical

Of their playoff odds.

Chiefs

The blandest of teams

Has a chance to surprise,but

Can’t beat the Chargers.

NFC East

Cowboys

Can Dez be worth it?

If Romo can stay healthy

They’ll win division

Giants

Odell’s all the rage;

In for a sophomore slump.

Tom Coughlin’s last year.

Redskins

The name is not all

They should consider changing–

Also need new offense.

Eagles

Bradford will not last

And the Sanchez/Tebow show

Will make a comeback.

NFC North

Packers

This is the year they

Break the curse of the Seahawks.

But not the Ravens.

Bears

Crazy like a Fox–

But he can turn teams around.

Will be a fifth seed.

Vikings

Bridgewater breaks out

And they will be very good–

But not playoff good.

Lions

The wheels will fall off;

Johnson’s old, Stafford’s not great–

Back to drawing board.

NFC South

Saints

Will still be a threat

Even without Graham et. al;

But can’t beat Panthers.

Panthers

Will beat the Saints. Twice.

As I predicted above.

What more do you want?

Falcons

New coach improves them,

But won’t overtake Panthers;

Not until next year.

Buccaneers

Can Winston be good

On and off the gridiron?

Probably neither.

NFC West

Seahawks

It’s not picks that kill;

Nor the two straight scoring drives;

It’s that last, long yard.

Cardinals

With ‘Hawks hungover

Will take Division title

And win playoff game.

49ers

Need to win it all

To explain canning Harbaugh.

That will not happen.

Rams

Bills/Jets of the West:

Strong running game and defense,

But no Quarterback.