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Haiku of Horror

Shudder at seventeen syllables of pure, unrelenting terror.

Deathdream [aka Dead of Night] (1978)

Bob Clark proves himself to be the master of yet another horrifying holiday: Veteran’s Day!

Here are some poems.

deathdream_poster_01

I.

War never changes
Bloody purpose chipped in stone
People, however

II.

Foreign homecoming
Family, town, people unchanged
It’s him who’s different

III.

Sweet Andy comes home
But he isn’t quite himself
Something’s indifferent

IV.

Consumed by his thoughts
Something is eating Andy
Perhaps vice versa

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Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

I, too, would like to be a young Donald Sutherland.

Here are some poems.

invasion-poster-1

I.

Rest your weary eyes
Dream of distant, fertile plains
Being someone else

II.

Familiar faces
Strangers peering from old homes
They are who you aren’t

Green Room (2016)

A gut-wrenching preview of what’s to come.

On a totally unrelated subject, who’s excited about inauguration day? Anyone? Hello?

Here are some poems.

gr_web

I.

Metal, flesh, wood, bone
Blood pulses, violence throbs
Bodies twist and thrash

II.

Intro of chaos
Crescendo of violence
Coda of demise

III.

Ain’t Rights meet alt-rights
They stay up fighting all night
None end up all right

The Mist (2007)

For the most part, the end of this movie is a fine cinematic representation of the kind of finger-snapping, whistling optimism the majority of Americans feel about the next four years.

Here are some poems.

mist11

I.

Onward through the haze
Down and down the narrow throat
Toward our bleak endings

II.

Stuck in eldritch Hell
Antsy folks bite the bullet
Miss the final shot

Bubba Ho-Tep (2002)

I can only hope my inevitable retirement home experience is somewhat similar to this.

Here are some poems.

bubba-ho-tep-2002-poster

I.

Ravages of time
Draining the blood, drying the flesh
Leaves dusty old bones

II.

Barren catacombs
Patter of fading heartbeats
Lifeless as a tomb

III.

Time takes selfishly
Greedily suckles life’s teat
Drinks until it’s dry

IV.

Once, I was the king.
But now, I ain’t but two things …
And Jack has left town.

The Tingler (1959)

If it’s possible for a premise to be both horrifying and incredibly stupid, The Tingler has that premise. Nails the execution, too.

Here are some poems.

tingler-poster

I.

Cocooned in soft flesh
Legs skittering against bone
Masticating dread

II.

Hypothesis: Fear
cradles the spine, engorging.
Conclusion: Screams kill.

III.

Doctor discovers
Cronenbergian horror,
Gives it sex toy name.

The Legend of Boggy Creek (1972)

I love that poster. A true story.

Here are some poems.

legend-of-boggy-creek

Folks say it’s out there
Wan’drin through the soupy marsh
Fake fur caked with filth

Blood Rage (1987)

Contender for the 2016 Without a Doubt the Greatest Slasher Film of the 1980s and Possibly of All Fucking Time Award. Yes, that’s a real thing. I wouldn’t make up something so important.

Here are some poems.

blood-rage-movie-poster-vhs-cover-1987

I.

Serrated knife’s edge
Rips skin, carves through tender flesh
Drips cranberry sauce

II.

Brother or brother,
Which one do you love, mother?
Gasp! It’s the other.

III.

Basted in its blood
The turkey is stuffed and cooked
Served as sacrifice

Southbound (2016)

In my experience, any road trip over six hours in length without an overnight stop  pretty much feels like a kind of endless Hellscape, the only foreseeable destination a never-ending mire of boredom and desire for the driving to end.

Here are some poems.

southbound-poster-alternate

I.

… Heading south. Tires hot.
Fire at our backs; flames ahead.
We’re on a highway …

II.

Sojourned from the pit
Wayward fiends traveling home
Hitch rides on our backs

III.

The rearview mirror
Reflects more than where he’s been
Shows what’s chasing him

IV.

One destination
Terminus of travelers
All highways lead there

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