Of Cosmic Horror and Delight — In the dream garden, the flowers speak In a language that only the brave can seek Their petals sway to an ethereal beat As they whisper secrets, ears sickly-sweet The trees are alive with magic and light Their branches born of starry nights Their leaves rustle, brushed by solar winds Past long winding staircases where galaxies end…

A Writer’s Lament — In the still of the night, I write My pen, a conduit to the unknown As my fingers dance, soaked in ink A symphony of creation unfolds Blank pages, now an endless canvas A portal to other worlds and realms A playground for my mind’s musings As I pour out my heart and…

Of Predatory Parasites — In the garden of your life, You walk as a lost traveler, Seeking connection in a virtual world. Modern leaders of digital souls Wear charming masks, allurements perfected, Stealing from your once-cherished friendships. Ghostly cyberspace, where False gods arise, a shining mirage, Feeding on your craving for closeness. A parasitic…

Of Viral Horror — In the silence, fate whispers to you, Nanotech and evolution meet, Identity entangles your mortal core. A conscious virus breeding, In humanity’s ruins, A dance of electrons, Signaling an end, The closing of an epoch. A civilization thrives within, An alien force crawls your skin, Darkness drapes the Earth, Your tether to tomorrow no more, The denouement of humanity. The witness and the ghost, You stand between then and now, Watching the music of stars, Hearing echoes of worlds unborn.

Whispers between Shadow and Night — In the shrouded haze, the village stirs, Wary footfalls, past whispers they blur. Sky painted with twilight’s ethereal hue, Yet below, darkness holds its hallow view. Mist coils ‘round homes, spectral tales they weave, Ghosts whispering secrets, begging reprieve. …

A Dark Sojourn — The boss bursts in, borne of exhausted clichés, Her voice drips with a rehearsed chorus of disdain, “Economic inequality is just a myth,” she exclaims, Her performance topped with a twisted corporate grin. When lies are creed, truth becomes treason. Through the glass, a dark juxtaposition — Tents and tarps…

From Ashes to Dawn — In a shrouded world, a city stands, On towers sable, dead civilizations’ hands. Dictator’s rule, cold and stern, In hearts of decay, a relic yearns. Beneath it all, a dormant beast, Its latent force yearns for release. It kindles light, warmth, and laughter, A scent of rebellion, disaster after. Against oppression, they stand and sing, Machine rekindled, defiance it brings. City breathless, rebellion’s spectator, A final echo, the dictator’s creator.

Tragedy and Despair Weekend whispers, Six dead, Chicago bleeds. Saturday dawn, Gunfire roars, Five hearts silenced. Twisted metal, Bullet’s kiss met, Life leaves, Hospital sighs. Boy of sixteen, Bullet’s hymn sung, Friday’s lament. Nine scenes of sorrow, Forty lives danced, Death’s long shadow. Under a mourning veil, The city cries for humanity, Tears, let love prevail. © 2023 Dean Bowman. All Rights Reserved.

The Week of May 1–5 — Unlike last week, this week has not been as productive. On a scale of 1 to 5, last week was probably a 4.5 and this week rates around a 2.5. Since I’m not writing full-time, there really isn’t a way to avoid these ups and downs. I think the secret is being nimble and carving out small moments during the week to slow down, focus, and create. Read more: https://open.substack.com/pub/deanbowman/p/week-in-review-vol-2?r=1vp7r3&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web