collab

Friday, October 3, 2025

The Long Neon Night

 






 Play song while reading the poem..
then listen again   and again and again.........

City Of Tortured Souls
by Mark and The Material Objects

 song by my friend Mark that inspired this write.....
bone shaking, dynamite song with the greatest 
scream I've ever heard in rock.......



 and this is Mark..
the screamer, composer and singer of the song
...





The Long Neon Night



Lights
Blink.... 
On.
Off.
On.
Off.
Red,
Then 
Yellow,
Red,
Then 
Yellow.
Hissing neon
Crackling
In the midnight
Hitting me in the face
Between lightning bolts
And the drum roll
Of deep, black thunder.

Can't shut it out
It peeks there
Through the curtains
One inch short of closing
Taunting me with advertisements
Of a better life
Found somewhere down below
In a happy hour bar.

This bed 
Is my hell.
This bed
Is my sanctuary.
I can't leave it
It won't let me.
See how it holds me
In it's dirty sheets?
It's comforter
That gives no comfort?
It's pillows scented
With a thousand other heads?

Over and over
I have this 
Dream
Every night
From dusk till dawn
The screaming rising
From sun deprived streets
Up, up to my window
Desolate voices calling
Pleading, asking for things
I cannot give them
And do not want to hear.

Then your face appears
And I exalt 
In momentary joy
As you hover there
Bathed in red neon waters
Beckoning to me
From the top of another
Mildewed motel.
You're always smiling
At least, until 
The fake yellow neon sun
Shows you for what you are.

Down the hall to the left
There's a guy always
Playing the blues
On his guitar
The walls tremble with it
The rodents sing harmony
And the residents curse
And bang on the ceiling
In rhythm to the song
For a moment or two
There's silence.......
And the song begins again.

I no longer know
Which is the dream
And which is my life
I don't know 
How long I've lain here
When I checked in
Or if I'll check out
I don't know
If you ever truly loved me
Or if I made you up
Like some madman's apparition.

Flashes
Of waking perception 
Make me catch my breath
Sit upright,
And reach out to the empty void
That stretches around the room
Down the hall
And back to me
Carrying nothing
But snippets
Of the blues man's song
And mourning
From the dying day.

Then...
I sleep
Again.
Hear the screams,
Feel the fear,
Touch the terror,
Taste the tangible,
Smell the soured milk smell
Of love that lived
And withered like a mushroom
In a corner
Of a room
Under a bed
In a thirty story building
On a street that's always crying
In a city of
Tortured souls.

Blink....
On.
Off.
On.
Off.
Red
Then
Yellow
Red
Then 
Yellow
Blink.
Blink.
Blink. 





  ©by Voo, words, images
and Mark, music, face
Feb 20, 08 midnight 

Thursday, October 2, 2025

Apparition River




APPARITION RIVER 


I walked along the river again today
I saw the places where we used to play
I saw the apparitions floating by
Of smile and kiss reflecting in the sky
I felt the touch I can't feel any more
Since you walked out and slammed that hollow door
And it bounced back and refused to catch and lock
And I sat there waiting three days for your knock.


After three days I thought I heard a siren's wail
But I was so far down I couldn't tell
Screaming past my house down by the water 
It woke me up and I went running after
My mother caught my arm and said "Go home."
Then she rocked me, crying, "Baby girl, he's gone."
So now I walk the river's edge and cry
And watch the apparitions floating by.


"There are ghosts in that river," you told me, "Suicides,
Lovers lost and widows, jilted brides."
You teased me every time we gathered there
But I loved you so much I didn't care
I remember how your ghost stories made me shiver
But how we loved that muddy rolling river
And now that dirty water is your grave
And I have nothing lovely left to save.


I saw you there last week by river's edge
You waved at me and smiled that golden smile
I stood there so dead still upon the ledge
And let your memory hold me for a while
I know I broke your heart but you forgive me
I know I lied to you and did you harm
For three long years I've walked along that river
And longed to be back in my true love's arms.


Tomorrow morning I shall get up early
I'll put on my unused white wedding gown
I'll carry roses in my arms to give you
And let your apparition pull me down 
Down to the muddy depths of cold, cold water
Reflecting blue that's borrowed from the sky
Then immortal, hand in hand, we'll walk together
And watch other apparitions floating by.





One More Time by Laura Pausini


©by Voo
March 3, 2004

Wednesday, October 1, 2025

NOTICE from PHOOOEY.ORG (Poet Haters Of Odes Of Earth Yo) CLASS ACTION SUIT FILED TODAY

 




POETS ARE THE SCOURGE OF THE EARTH.........

IF THEY LOVE YOU THEY WILL WRITE ABOUT YOU......

IF THEY HATE YOU THEY WILL WRITE EVEN MORE ABOUT YOU....

IF THEY DON'T WRITE ABOUT YOU THEY WILL MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE CRAP

WE MUST DO SOMETHING AND DO IT NOW!!!!

LET'S STAMP OUT THOUGHTS THAT RHYME...

Protest silently

BUT

RISE UP! 

JOIN PHOOOEY.ORG TODAY


           In association with.........

     The Anti Quill League

         RIGHTS NOT WRITES.org

            Nobody Wants To Hear That.dot

                   and.......Verses Make Us Mad Inc.


YO!!!

                                                   PHOOOEY FOREVER


REMEMBER OUR MOTTO..............✏️

IF YOU DON'T WRITE IT DOWN, NOBODY WILL KNOW


©️10/01/25

V

O

O


Dedicated to William Topaz McGonagall
Globally known as the world's Worst Poet
but he had GALL, ya'll

                    https://mypoeticside.com/poets/william-topaz-mcgonagall-poems

Something Wicked This Way Comes














Something Wicked This Way Comes



Something wicked this way comes
I can feel it in the air 
Something evil prowls the darkness
And the blind and deaf don't even care.
  
Something awesome in it's horror
Something shining but not of gold
Something monstrous in it's purpose
Something new but ancient, old.

Running slyly like the wolf
Gathering strength on silent feet
Searching for recruits for battle
Looking for men's hearts for meat.

Can you feel it in the heavens?
Can you feel it in the ground?
Can you feel it in your spirit?
Something wicked falling down.

Beware the prophet who preaches peace
Beware the teacher who teaches lies
Beware the beast who seeks the saintly
Devouring souls and closing eyes.

Something wicked this way comes
In dream and daylight, night and noon
Descending terror, pain and plunder
To darken the sun, shut out the moon.

Be not deceived, the day is evil
The star that falls is not a star
The days of peace are gone forever
The  earth has given birth to war.





©By Voo Shining Stone
Mar 3, 2017 at 12:09 AM


Monday, September 29, 2025

This White Room






  • This White Room



    This white-walled room
    Streaked with lavender
    From the glass heart
    Hanging in the window
    In the sun...........

    The heart you gave me
    With a smile in your eyes
    The heart that was shattered
    By cruel unthinking hands
    And was mended, restrung, on it's white silken cord.

    My bare feet rest
    On moon pale carpets
    Strewn here and there
    On hardwood floors
    Clean and cold as a hard winter snow.

    Silky white curtains
    Flutter in day breeze,
    Tease the book's pages
    As it lies on the shelf
    Reading to it's self of my long ago dreams.

    And here sit I
    In my satin and lace
    White sofa covered with pillow and fur
    Waiting, as I often do
    For my life to go on......

    Long, silver mirrors
    Catch the odd glow of sun,
    Of fragmented purple, of my long raven hair
    And reflect back the silence
    That the world cannot hear.

    In the garden, a cat
    And the song of a lark
    Sharp smell of roses
    And the whisper of trees
    But I do not turn, I sit stiller than stone.

    Waiting for footsteps to fall on the stair,
    A door opening softly and the embrace of your eyes
    Waiting for the smile that once out shined the sun
    Waiting for forgiveness in a world that's gone dark.

    Maybe today I think, he'll come
    He'll stand behind me, brushing my hair
    Watching me watching him as I did in the mirror
    Before I crushed his heart like the lavender glass
    Now mended, restrung, on the cord in the sun.

    Maybe today in this white room
    The wind will blow my hair like ribbons,
    The book will close and my heart find peace
    Maybe today, on moon pale carpets
    My sad, sad feet will stand up and dance.

    A sound in the garden, not of cat or of bird
    On the wind there's a sweetness
    And a tasting of hope
    Gently, the lavender heart starts to sway
    And I watch it transfixed and I turn towards the door....







    ©by Voo
    Feb 24, 2010   
    9:36 p.m.