Twinkle, twinkle little vampire
how I wonder if you’re a liar.
Up above the town so high
like diamond in daylight sky.

Twinkle twinkle the undead
vegetarian an under fed.
never sleeping, sneaking in
bedroom windows, never sin.

Twinkle, twinkle little vampire
the epitome teenage desire.
Making out, then pushing away
will power keeping hunger at bay.

Twinkle, twinkle creature of the night
now at home in the daylight.
Up above the trees so high
make-believe that you can fly.

Twinkle, twinkle Peter Pan
never grows up as Wendy can.
Up above the sea so blue
Wendy, Peters looking for you.

Banging and fanging, shaking the bed
making out with the unholy dead.
Screaming and dreaming all through the night
the beast with two backs is never contrite.

Shaming and blaming, the neighbours stare
bumping uglies with the dead on a dare.
Slaking and making, a passion that swells
kicking her feet she can almost hear bells.

Thrashing and crashing, gasping for air
she screams her passion, pumping despair.
Drained and depleted, she stares in his eyes
dead to the world, just like regular guys.

Grace Mahoney

Screeching

Shrieking

Howling

Whipping

Wind tears at my flesh

Rocks tear at my fists

As I climb the spire

Higher, higher,

Listening to the wailing,

A thousand damned souls

Buried in the rock face I

Pull myself up.

Keep going.

Must keep going.

Can’t stop,

So close.

Pulling

Grasping

Reaching

Higher

Higher I climb

Over the faces

Buried in rock

Mother, father

Friends, teachers

Everyone

Can’t let any of them

Stop me now

He’ll get me,

That ghastly leaping thing

On the rocks below

Clad in rags

And a dead man’s skin

With empty eyes

And a skeletal sneer

Below his writhing silver hair

Up I go

Up I go

Ignore the pain

The sudden whiff of

Blood, tears, sweat,

The pleas of faces

Buried in the rocks

And that rasping whisper,

It’s not a race

You can ever win

There is no place to go.

Almost there.

Almost there!

I grab the edge,

Pull myself to the top

Of the heap and look around

And there’s nothing there

But shrieking wind

And jagged rocks

And the thing.

There’s no place to go.

Except down again

Or into swirling air

My fragile grip breaks

I am taken away

To add my own howls

To the storm

And wake,

Wake again

Convince my self it’s just a dream

Bandage my bloody hands

Shut the window to the wind

Prepare for work again.

by Anson Brehmer

To read more of Anson Brehmer’s poems and short stories visit vamplitpublishing.ning.com

The midnight Madonna is skipping around

waiting, watching, listening for the sound.

The sound of a child crying in the night

breaking its delicious heart, without respite.

.

The midnight Madonna takes her family

from lost souls setting them free.

Dancing in moonlight a ghostly pied piper

scooping up innocence all around her.

.

The bloofer lady is hunting again

bringing sadness the Madonna of pain.

Keep your children from her hungering thirst

and ancient blood that’s perpetually cursed.

.

The midnight Madonna is dancing with glee

clapping her hands she is so happy.

Nighttime mother that gives succour to none

so watch for her coming and run children run.

Brighter than light, flying through the night
twisting and turning in the pale moonlight.
Away from the city, the world and its pity
his solitary soul, soars beyond petty.

Dancing on air, in death without care
scouring the world with unblinking stare.
He rotates, back flips then waits
thankful finally, for the twisted fates.

Still she stands, plans and waits till he lands
the vampire’s most loyal and loving of fans.
Joyous a quiver, with a delicious shiver
she waits for her nocturnal dream to deliver.

Swooping from the sky, he lands near by
sweeping her into his arms with a satisfied sigh.
He twirls her around, lifts her off the ground
as her pulse he’s found, she dies with no sound.

The light in the night shines ever so bright,
as he drinks in the sight of her body all white.
He dances on air with never a care
his dinner date dead, well life isn’t fair.