Thursday, July 1, 2021

Shadows and Glances by T. L. Coston

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

A Gorgon Horror at the Crumbles



By T.L. Coston

It’s getting dark. Is that a distant rumble?
I’m getting goose-bumps from the prospect of thunder.
Did the temperature drop? It suddenly got cold.
For what time I have left, it’s hard to be bold

The crime I committed, and yes, it was heinous
And for that, I’m about to be hanged.
But to prosecute my execution, in these conditions,
Is more than I can take.

Oh, I don’t deserve pity, that can’t be denied.
But to dance at the gallows to a thunder’s clap,
While lightning flashes my last gasp;
Now that’s irony at its best.

Yes, she was my mistress and with child.
But to leave my wife, I couldn’t abide.
So, instead of leading a double life,
I decided to commit the most odious of crimes.

I enticed my moll with promises of love;
An elopement to some foreign land.
But to stage this getaway, we needed a place to stay.
Somewhere, no one would pry

The plan was simple enough:
I needed a cottage with a tidal rush.
To commit this deed might entail screams;
Shingle Beach would do just fine

So blind was her love that she didn’t see the club.
The blunt end of an axe I did swing.
With a thud she splayed on the rug.
So vicious, her hands twitched in a pool of blood

Realization had come to pass, I have a difficult task:
The dismemberment and disposal of my spinster lass.
As you could tell by the mess, I underestimated the rest.
A plan, as everyone knows, I half-assed.

I built a big fire and stoked the flames,
To begin the ghoulish work ahead of me.
I sawed off her head and threw it on a bed
Of glowing cinders that popped and hissed.

It was then, I witnessed the din, of a Gorgon horror.
Writhing hair waved in serpentine flames biting venomous strikes.
I recoiled from this attack, and while stepping back,
Her dead eyes opened with a Medusa stare.

And with that, a thunderous clap,
Coupled with lightning that shook the whole cabin.
I ran with a scream into the pouring night;
Not to return until daylight.

That’s it. So, now I go to the gallows pole
For the whole world knows my sins,
And soon I will pay a repentance price
Dancing in Hell to thunder and lightning.

P.S.
This poem is based on the 1924 murder of Emily Bilbie Kaye at the Crumbles in the U.K.

Sunday, December 29, 2019

Apples and Snow



By T.L. Coston


I wandered through the countryside
To escape the pain of emotional tides
To be free from disappointments over the years
Looking for a sanctum to ease my mind


An abandoned farmhouse providentially found
A brook with clean water rushes abound
Fields scarred with stubbled rows
Poke through a blanket of freshly laid snow


No more fruit does the old, apple tree bear
A hopeful harvest to last this winter’s dread
No more tears can I shed
Every indication points that I should be here


I’m barely existing in this icy cave
Where a single furnace heats my way
By miracle, one vent keeps me warm
I believe God knows where I am


I can’t escape thoughts of food
Daydreaming about everything, even apples stewed
Lamb chops, turkey, a regular holiday feast
This I would enjoy with my husband, Steve


It didn’t take long for the countdown to end
I ate my last apple, now starvation begins
Weak from lack of food, I can’t make it to the brook
How am I going to get out of here?


In the mirror, I saw a ghastly sight
My drawn and haggard face gave me a fright
Clumps of hair fall from my head
If I stay here, I will die


The snow is all the sustenance I have
My head and stomach aches
I’m dizzy and lightheaded; starving is a painful thing
But don’t worry, God sees everything


The nights are longer and extremely cold
I lay down to pray for my soul:
Dear God, please save me.
I’m trying, but I don’t know what to do.


As my mind drifts away in hope of better days
I envisioned a miracle of God’s grace
That the old apple tree bloomed
Resplendent with fruit, here, in January


P.S.

This poem is based on the journal and documentary of the tragic death of Linda Bishop


Friday, December 27, 2019

Noel in the Holler



By T.L. Coston


As the sun kisses the dusk to bid a nights pleasant dream
And Winter’s crystalline blanket blinks its pinkish-blue hues
A few leaves cling to a branch in reverent stubbornness
While a gust of wind whistles through its wooden chimes


I sit on my porch on this blessed night
Wondering about the magis wonderful sight
Of a star portending God’s gift to mankind
A distant flame of hope for the lonely and forgotten


Across the holler on a distant hill
A cabin light flickers without concomitant cry of a whippoorwill
Silent are these nights when the cold air bites
Even more so on this holiday tide


Faint was the sound of a distant song
Of a neighbor’s melodious wail
About the heralded birth of Jesus Christ
And redemption for sins for which we must prevail


As I stopped rocking in my chair
I closed my eyes and listened with care
As I wiped a couple of tears away
And thanked our Lord for this Christmas Day


Saturday, December 21, 2019

An Impeachment Eve Soliloquy

By T.L. Coston


Now is the time for calumnies most foul,

When inflamed passions of disaffected malcontents

Shall besmirch character and country for votes unfavored.

‘Tis responsible to protect party and power from hayseeds

Who seek liberty guaranteed in an aged document, outdated and unwanted.

A Constitution - a mere rag - unworthy of the least menstruation.

But what casualty is truth when one must suffer imbeciles for the greater good?

Words as false as the teeth that rattle in my mouth shall not be impaired.

Words shall topple a president as a sword smites a king on battlefield, or blade on scaffold.

A bloodless coup committed not in shadows, but openly and most false.

I toast my Democratic confederates. A cloudy chardonnay can be rancid or most tasteful.

May our fermented hate harvest a fruitful vintage!

Saturday, November 23, 2019

Isolation and Madness



By T.L. Coston



Did you expect a slobbering fool,
Ranting and raving with spit and drool?
A wild-eyed man whose thoughts are scattered at best
Dressed in his own filth and basking in stench


Maybe I am that man, whom all consider insane
This room suggest my faculties are suspect at best
To be isolated from the general population for fear of murderous intent
No, it is to protect me from the unseen that makes me sick


Oh yes, this is the cause for all my troubles and woes
All these devices that penetrate my brain
Electromagnetic waves that induce headaches
I had to get away - to escape - from this modern-day inferno


Oh, the mountains were so picturesque, and the quiet gave me rest
A haven from a technological assault, few could understand or know
I began to feel like back in the day before this cursed age
Where ubiquitous phones turned people into slaves


This was heaven for sometime, but humans are social
As we all know. To converse, laugh and sing
Interaction with another is a necessary thing
Without it we would go...dare I say - insane


But I was fine for awhile
Conversing in my head wasn’t something to dread
But to hear a voice without a muffled sound
Found me talking aloud, and what conversations I had with myself!


It wasn’t until things went awry
A shadow in the corner came alive
At first a blob without definition or shape
But, through time, morphed into something I could not mistake


This being - this devil - an affront to nature
Assumed my aspect, tone and gestures
Until, I could not distinguish spirit from flesh
For this horror mirrored my image much to my distress


He sat there for sometime, studying my every move
As I did him, each staring at the other not knowing what to do
This went on for days and nights
He and I eyeing each other, measuring - waiting


It was he who broke the silence
I was startled by the sound of his voice
Years of being alone can cripple a mind
Hearing from another made me want to cry


It didn’t take long to know his intent
My doppleganger wanted more than a cabin
He had grand designs on the human race
While I stay imprisoned in this sanctuary


All his evil would be in my name
Death and destruction would be mine to blame
And he laughed and laughed at the prospect
Of a hapless fool stranded on mountain in a cabin getaway


I could not allow this evil to abide
My doppleganger had to die
But how do you kill a shadow turned to flesh and bone?
Easy, with a knife and strokes that are hard and bold


My doppleganger laughed and cried
As I plunged over and over to watch him die
Blood splattered on my face and eyes
Half blinded I slipped and slide in his spectral gore


It didn’t take long for a knock on my door
For a loner is cause for much concern
My neighbors kept a watchful eye
It didn’t help when a fight wakens the whole mountainside


I was arrested for murder in the first degree
Fratricide the papers decreed
They say I did my brother in
That the demon was actually my twin
I was judged criminally insane
Because all my protestations went up in flames
For the demon tested with my DNA
So now I sit here in my stench; drooling and spittling my innocence