Poem Published in View From Atlantis

The Alien Fronds issue of View From Atlantis is now online and contains my poem "Pitcher Plant." It can be read by clicking here . "Pitcher Plant" was originally published in the Fall 2022 issue of Star*Line .

Poem Published in Aphelion

The April 2024 issue of Aphelion Webzine is now live and includes my poem "When Confronted by an Elder God…," which speaks to H.P. Lovecraft's penchant for having characters "go mad" in several of his stories. To read the poem, click here .

Horror Prose Poem Published in Spectral Realms

The new issue of Spectral Realms is available now and includes my horror prose poem "The Great and Final Feast." To purchase, click  here . From the website: Hippocampus Press is proud to commemorate ten years of our acclaimed journal of weird poetry, Spectral Realms , with the publication of the twentieth issue. As before, it contains a diverse array of poetry by today's leading versifiers in the realm of horror and the supernatural—John Shirley, Scott J. Couturier, Frank Coffman, Manuel Pérez-Campos, Ngo Binh Anh Khoa, Leigh Blackmore, Ann K. Schwader, and a host of others. Maxwell I. Gold and Jay Sturner contribute provocative prose poems, while a cadre of poets pen tributes to Dylan Thomas (Carl E. Reed's "Echoing Dylan Thomas"), Robert W. Chambers (David J. Kopaska-Merkel’s "A Vision of Carcosa"), Emily Brontë Michael Potts's "After Heathcliff Digs Up Cathy"), and the imperishable Shakespeare (Kyla Lee Ward's "Malvolio&

A Danger of Outer Space Hide 'n' Seek (website exclusive)

Young alien slips behind an asteroid unknowingly enters a tear in the space-time continuum. It returns a split-second later— friends nowhere to be found; planet long, long dead.

Current Theory of the Otherworldly Head (old unfinished story; abandoned)

I am barricaded inside my office, having locked out a maniacal specter which even now paces outside my door, barking at me in some incomprehensible language. It is waiting for me to surrender to its agenda. I will write of this agenda shortly. What I must do first on this brisk autumn day is document my role in a series of tragic and gruesome events of which many will find questionable, if not wholly unbelievable. I do this to establish a timeline for the investigation that is sure to follow. Despite my fretful state-of-mind, I will do my best to transcribe the events as they unfolded. The following is a letter which I expect to be found within the hour, finished or not, sensible or otherwise: To Whom It May Concern: My name is Kieran O’Hara, assistant to Dr. John J. Smith, Herbarium Systematist and Curator of Vascular Plants at the Field Museum. Please take a moment to prepare yourself for my words, in whatever fashion suffices, for you must be willing to believe what I am about

Chapel of the Pitch Black Forest (old unfinished story; abandoned)

I fell in love with Berella in a Parisian café, the nearby Eiffel Tower shrouded in gray and dripping with rain. She was attractive in the unconventional sense, with bulbous, milky blue eyes set wide apart and a hirsute, ebony face of the most hypnotic countenance. Exotic in every aspect of the word, her beauty surpassed that of any woman or wild thing I had ever seen. Her dialect, too, was as mysterious and hypnotic as the tone of her voice, unfamiliar despite my numerous travels outside England, to regions of the Carpathian Mountains even, where she claimed roots. In esoteric knowledge, beauty, and intelligence she was unparalleled, and these traits, among others, sealed the fate of my heart, which, despite having previously only desired adventure and material wealth, now longed for her attention, and her attention only. That evening, after the storm had passed, in a park bordered and threaded with wet roses, I bent to one knee and asked Berella for her hand in marriage: me, clad i

Aliens and Dinosaurs (old unfinished story; abandoned)

I might be the only human being to have ever seen a living, breathing dinosaur. Unfortunately, I have no proof of this; but that isn’t my fault, it’s the fault of the aliens. Perhaps tonight they’ll finally put the evidence in my hands. God knows I’ve pleaded for it a dozen or more times. Their visits began when I was a teenager; who knows how long they were watching before that. They seemed to know things about me right from the start, mainly my fascination with dinosaurs. I have loved them ever since I was a little boy. I spent hours at the local library reading about them, displayed toys and models all over my bedroom, drew them, was hypnotized by the Charles R. Knight paintings at the Field Museum in Chicago (where they also have the bones of Sue, the Tyrannosaurus Rex) when we visited from the suburbs, and hushed my parents and younger brother whenever the prehistoric beasts appeared on TV in all their animated glory. Not only were dinosaurs my number one obsession, they were


CONTENTS (10 poems; 16 pages) Shadows "What falls apart, ends, decays..." Headwaters Held in Shadow 99.9% of Artists Jar In Shadow Sparks Pensive Lost Dad Ode to the Winter Heart  Progress Publishing History

Micro-chapbook Now Available!

My micro-chapbook SHADOWS AND SPARKS has just been released by Maverick Duck Press  and is available as a free download  here . Thank you to editors Kendall A. Bell and Brielle Kelton for accepting and publishing the book! Description: SHADOWS AND SPARKS is a micro-chapbook of ten short poems that range from dark and bleak (the shadows) to light and hopeful (the sparks). You can add the book to your Goodreads list here .

Three Poems Found in the Back of a Book

Below are three short, hand-written poems found in the back of my copy of Way of the Peaceful Warrior . Speak what is true Through mouth or mind or dream Through action, poetry, intention Speak what is true And truth . Your truth. ________ An albatross Glides across the water Visits islands now and then But mostly stays at sea _______ Did I ever meet you? Will I ever, again? Beyond the mist, the veil, I hear the heartbeat of the universe. Yes, I've always known you. And you, me.