Author P.S. Kessell
Author of horror genre
THE CYCLE OF EVIL
“The Cycle of Evil”
Death comes for me
And I welcome it
There is blood dripping
From my chest down to where I sit
A stake that penetrated
My cold, black heart
Ended my feast early
In this evening’s dark
You stand over me
Not quite believing what you see
Yet your eyes do not deceive you
And your actions certainly saved you
You wonder what I am
And how I came to be
Just how many more of me
Are out there, you think
I start to laugh as I die
You feel no pain
But begin to cry
Your end is near
And you can sense it
For we are many
And now, you’re defenseless
Run! Run! While you can
That’s more fun than when you stand
So I get to have the last laugh, it appears
As your throat is ripped out from ear to ear.
Written on September 22, 2021
THE DEVIL
“The Devil”
It’s dark in here
Black as night
Cold
Damp
I beg for light
I try to move
The space is small
I just keep bumpin’
Into the walls
Hands grab at me
Pulling, pushing
Rubbing, twisting
“Help,” I cry,
Someone is listening
A door opens wide
I can make out a figure
Someone save me
It’s the Devil of the River
It approaches me
With mouth open wide
I feel I can
Get lost inside
Alive and scared,
He swallows my head
I’m lost, now,
To the world of the undead
Written on September 21, 2021
JUST BREATHE
“Just Breathe”
Flat on the deck
With a hook in my mouth
Begging you to take it out
And to throw me back
What use am I,
Injured and small
Your size overwhelms me,
Frigid and tall
Flip and flop
You laugh and watch
I gasp for breath
An endless wait
You grab my tail
Hold me over the water
You wait too late
I roll upside down
And float belly-up on the water
Written on September 19, 2021
THIS HELL HOLE
“This Hell Hole”
Into a deep, dark hole, I have fallen,
Surrounded by darkness on all sides.
A blackness near and far
Nothing, nowhere to hide.
I try to touch something.
Nothing there to touch.
I try to smell something.
Nothing there to smell.
I try to hear something.
Nothing there to hear.
“This is impossible,” I say.
“What in the hell is this?” I ask.
“Where in the hell am I?”
Still, no answer but a response of laughter
That echoes throughout this hell hole.
Written on October 18, 2018
E-BOOK VERSION AVAILABLE
It That Has No Name III: The Beginning is now available in e-book version through Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, and Google play. Paperback version is still available, as well.
WHEN DEATH COMES
“When Death Comes”
I see you.
I am watching everything you do.
I’m just waiting.
You don’t know I am here,
But you sense something is strange.
You sense someone is following you,
But you do not know who.
I see you.
No matter where you go,
There is nowhere you can hide.
I wait patiently for it to be your time.
It won’t be long before it comes.
I see you.
I walk slowly by and slightly brush against you.
I have touched you.
It sends chills down my spine.
It causes much ado
As the area around you becomes extremely busy.
I am tempted to follow through.
I watch you a little bit longer,
But now, it is time to pay your dues.
I see you.
I rub against you.
I wrap you in a full embrace and breathe you in.
Your soul enters me.
I feel you.
Fighting uselessly to break free.
I own you.
You are trapped inside of me.
And I move on.
I see you.
I am watching everything you do.
Written on October 14, 2018
FIRE
“Fire”
I know not to play with you.
I learned that by the age of two.
But I found myself int’rested again
By the time that I turned age ten.
Fire in the fireplace,
Fire in the pit,
Fire in the sky
On the fourth of July.
A little later in life
I found a whole new fire.
One that grew on the inside
When one truly felt inspired.
A fire that burned deep inside me
Drive, determination, destiny.
You burned in me for years and years,
Sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker,
Changed me into a real soul-seeker.
With age, you became just a smolder,
As I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders
I learned to respect you, though, and that is what I did
A lifelong lesson learned as just a young kid.
Written on October 25, 2018
I WANT TO BE AN ALBATROSS
In this poem, “I Want To Be an Albatross,” an albatross is simply an albatross and not a metaphor for something else. I chose an albatross as the bird for this poem to somehow give glory to a bird generally considered to be big and ugly and which had been used metaphorically to reference a curse or burden.
“I Want to be an Albatross”
I want to be an albatross and travel the land,
Flying high, diving low,
Going across the waters,
Going as far as I can.
I want to be an albatross instead of a man.
I want to be an albatross and experience freedom,
Soaring here, sailing there,
Going where I wish,
Going as someone.
I want to be an albatross instead of a victim.
I want to be an albatross and make my own decisions,
Saying yes, replying no,
Going along if I desire
Going home as I envision.
I want to be an albatross instead of someone’s mission.
I want to be an albatross and sail more than the seven seas,
Shouting for joy, singing for praise,
Going through my thoughts
Going away from hypocrisy.
I want to be an albatross instead of their analyses.
I want to be an albatross and live life in good health,
Knowing right, knowing wrong,
Going forward from the closet,
Going upward on the shelf.
I want to be an albatross instead of being myself.
Written on October 13, 1993
THE WELL
This poem describes the loneliness one feels when one is depressed and suffering from the pressures and stress of life. A person looks for hope but only hears the voices of one’s mind responding back to one’s cries for help. This person succumbs to the suffering and is drowned in the weight of the world.
“The Well”
Cold and damp and dark and gritty,
The smell of the country
I’m far from the city.
Looking upward, I see the sky.
Dark and dismal, so cloudy, so high,
“Hello,” just echoes over and over.
“Can anyone hear me?” hear me? “Come over.”
Standing in water waist deep high,
Now, yelling and screaming and starting to cry.
I hear noises.
Shhhh! Shhhh! Shhhh! Shhhh!
Sounds that tell me to quiet down.
I think I touched something
With my foot on the ground.
More sounds. More noises.
“Help me!” Help me! “Help me!”
“Please.” Please.
I just keep hearing more and more of me.
Something is grabbing at my leg,
Pulling at my arms,
More Shhhh! Shhhh! Shhhh! Shhhh!
“Help me, please.” Please. Please.
Under the water I go,
Unable to breathe or see in the dark,
Fighting back is all I know.
More pulling! More grabbing! I’m down under!
I think Help me, Help me, Help me, please.
The waters go silent
There’s no sign of me.
Written on September 24, 2018
DESPERATION
The way the human mind processes pain, suffering and stress is different for different people. What some find easier to comprehend making life easier to tolerate results in a desperate cry for help from others. “Desperation” is the reaction of an individual who has reached their threshold of tolerance and feels incapable of processing any further pain or additional stress.
“Desperation”
Hanging my head in my hands,
Lost in thoughts I can’t explain,
Hearing noise in my head like a rock band,
Feeling an overflowing well of pain
Emotions consume
Feelings burn
Physical pain that makes me cry
Always given a new diagnosis why
Answers, No
Suggestions, So
Begging for a response to make the pain go away,
Sleeping is all that gets you through the day
It has me standing up on top of a chair
Without a real answer
Who? What? When? Where?
I kick it out real fast
Now, I know, for sure,
This cruel cycle won’t last.
Written on April 15, 2019
Author P.S. Kessell 