Happy first day of Halloween. I put something dark and sweet into your pumpkin for you.
That One Time
Your belongings will not likely be stolen In the times you watched them like a hawk But rather, they up and run away The one time that you forget about the lock
Your blessings will surely not come to an end In those times in which you’re praying a lot No, your blessing well will only run dry Because of the one time you did not
You’re unlikely to be brutally murdered, Your corpse buried beneath someone’s floor On most days, that is… Unless, of course, you forget to latch the door
“Even In The Littlest Things”, from my book Dark Matter – Poems of Horror and Depravity
Even In The Littlest Things – from Dark Matter
With Samhain/Halloween/All Hallow’s Eve and Day of the Dead fast approaching, I’m doing readings from my book of horror poetry, called Dark Matter. Most of them will have some type of music and/or sound effects that accompany them, to lend to the experience.
However, for most of these, I won’t be doing anything fancy with the visual aspects. There will be some that have interesting video or photos to look at but this will be more of an auditory experience than a visual one.
This particular piece is different from most of the book, as it’s not really horror. I included it because it’s quite dark, indeed. I wrote it because it was a personal demon that I had to exorcise, get the poison out of my system. I personally find myself both fascinated and revolted by this poem, even though I’m the one who penned it.
This is because it deals with a heavy, human problem… that of deception and who can we trust? We’ve all found out the hard way that someone we cared deeply for was deceiving us about something. If that person meant enough to you, then you most likely considered it not just inconvenient or frustrating but literally horrible.
Lies can be even more efficient weapons than guns or knives, given the right circumstances and for this reason, Even In The Littlest Things rightfully earns its place in the book and into this series of recordings.
Even In The Littlest Things
Even in the littlest things, you lie Promises of civil courtesies so small, To fulfill them, one barely need try Even in the littlest things, you lie
So many pieces to your hate Some are hidden, some stand tall None create joy, only weight So many pieces to your hate
Your darkness is beyond blinding Wondering if there’s any light at all Mislabeling what I was finding Your darkness is beyond blinding
A forgery, nearly perfect, passing Mask chipped, the disguise did fall Recidivist, apology count surpassing A forgery, nearly perfect, passing
But hey, at least you got to try it Labeled thing, you renamed it all No one ever insisted you buy it But hey, at least you got to try it
And now, we all feel less than good Endless, useless, talking, small Nothing gained, nothing goes as it should, And now, we all feel less than good
When you hear that I am dead and gone, Once it’s official and you’ve dried your eye I’ve only a few very simple requests With which I do truly hope you’ll comply
Little things, but the first is important, So much so that I’ll say it over and over You can pray or not; it doesn’t matter a bit, But don’t forget to play Crimson and Clover
I don’t need a fancy, expensive coffin Keep the money; I don’t need a new suit Incinerate me and spread my ashes Where trees and flowers will happily root
It matters very little to me whether or not People say they’re coming or if they arrive Please don’t allow anyone into my service That I didn’t care for when I was alive
Unless I loved them ever so dearly, Show them the door and tell them “Ciao” I never wanted them around before; I’ve certainly got no use for them now
Let everyone be happy and have a party Pouring me a libation might be nice If you do, do remember I like good tequila Or bourbon (no Scotch) and Coke on ice
But sincerely, I don’t require any fuss at all I don’t give a damn; for me, it’s all over I really don’t care what you do, except… Original (long version) Crimson and Clover
I could provide you with a whole playlist Of songs I adored and loved to share, But attention spans… most people only Hear themselves; they don’t really care
Long story short, the bullet points are: Tequila, bourbon, fire and ashes, nobox, Real friends only; not sure how to enforce (Maybe a secret handshake or knocks?)
But leave me thirsty, in a wooden crate, And invite my least favorite people over; It won’t even matter, as long as you Don’t forget the most essential thing:
You might have heard the audio track but the video is an entirely different kind of experience.
“Strange Leaf” by Kevin Trent Boswell.
This world has been encoded for your protection. The original poem, “Strange Leaf” is published in the book title, remission, available on Amazon and at Conjure Work.
The audio track for “Strange Leaf” is available as a free download at the Patreon page, Magus72.
While you’re there, look over the benefits and perks that patrons get, exclusive content and lots of other bonuses.
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Kevin Trent Boswell 