Death's Playmate

Death's Playmate 
By Nomar Knight

Trapped within hollowed walls
My cries forever binding
They swirled and squeezed
Against my chest
The sins were oh, so blinding

Her curled mane of crimson
Wrapped around a tiny neck
They swirled and squeezed
Her life away
This savior left not a speck

Guilt smothered sordid pleas
Stomping wails across my brow
They swirled and squeezed
Another day
Yet time escaped me somehow

Small corpses in a chest
Waiting for discovery
They swirled and squeezed
A mangled mess
Released by recovery

Evidence encaged me
Ghostly cries forever binding
They swirled and squeezed
Ending their breath
The curse began rewinding

Released to maim again
More victims lying in wait
They swirled and squeezed
For me to stay
Their dark princely playmate


©2015 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills poetic presentation.

The Bowels of Darkness

Here's my poetic offering for All Hallow's Eve. (Previously published in SNM Horror Magazine)

The Bowels of Darkness   

By Nomar Knight

From the bowels of darkness I came

Looking for my kind of treasure

Wasn't there to play foolish games

Or fulfill your sordid pleasure

Though your smooth flesh was enticing

And your warm eyes a delight

Licking sweat off your brow like icing

No doubt my lust would ignite

But purpose filled my need

So I ventured in the light

Your pale skin had to bleed

No use to struggle or fight

You winced and gagged at my breath

And spat vulgar words of hate

What you smelled was your death

A doomed reality your fate

Tainted soul ventured with me

Into the bleakest of holes

No longer could you see

Your blemishes and moles

Futile cries filled the void

Like razors cutting skin

Deception you employed

Revealed a black heart of sin

In my abyss your screams are harmless

So thrash and flail with all your might

Welcome to the bowels of darkness

Where forever is trapped in fright

©2011 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.

A Nomar Knight Poem.

A Mind by Kerry A. Morgan

Mind by Kerry A. Morgan

Tonight, Knight Chills is blessed to have a superb author/editor/poet gracing our pages. Kerry A. Morgan is the author of The Astral Avenger.  When you finish enjoying her poetic talents, visit her at the links below.

A Mind

By Kerry A. Morgan

Slight movement, crumbling
Gentle encroachment, crushing
Wheels turn in silent embrace
As water drips, feeling scented trace.

Blacks and reds always follow suit
For colors help the imaginative juice
As human senses trigger thoughts
Our creeps and crawlies keep ever watch.

Pleasure immense, teasing
Fear so intense, fumbling
What will destroy me, enjoy it’s rest
For fight has come to be what I do best

When I long, to live
Isn’t often, to begin
Not because of sorrow great
Not because of ugly face

Huddled close; endearing,
Squeezing, squeezing, squeezing,
Think of love and wonder long,
Will fate grant wishes, or woebegone

Not to beg for interest lost
Not to drop that living cost
But softer still the space surrounds
Ever growing, expanding abound

Told ya she's great! :-)  She also is the poetry editor for SNM Horror Magazine.  Check out her work in Pandora's Imagination here and her website here  

Thank you Kerry for being this week's Knight Chills poet of the week.

© Copyright Kerry A. Morgan 2011. All rights reserved. 

Kerry A. Morgan has granted Knight Chills non-exclusive rights to display this work.

What's In A Name? by NOMAR Knight

What's in a Name?

What's in a name?

By Nomar Knight

Doesn't  matter I try to comply

Bound by rules of the game

Hoping my words satisfy

Praying they don't come out lame

Maybe to you we're all the same

Players of words and themes

Illusionists to treat like a frame

Purveyors of fantasies and schemes

Nevermind I bleed on a page

Grasping words as if from thin air

Not some lion in a cage

But a prince trapped in despair

If my work brings you pleasure

Or intrigues your mind's eye

Then why not treat it like treasure

Let's avoid saying goodbye

A misprint once or twice

Is human I admit

But more than thrice

Just doesn't fit

Your cool Mag does its part

And ya'll do a great job

But these misprints break my heart

Makes me choke back a sob

So please no more Normar

Nor Norman or whatever

This Knight is called NOMAR

I'm a dark poet not a whoever 

I believe all experiences can lead to good things.  In my case, the editor of one of my favorite online magazines, SNM Horror Magazine, seems to have difficulty with my first name.  They've been kind enough to publish some of my poems, but somehow, they tend to get my name wrong.  While I haven't thrown a fit, nor have I thrown knives at anyone, nor have I tortured anyone because of this infraction, I do appreciate that this experience has led to me doing what I love best.  Hence, I wrote this poem.  

To show there are no hard feelings on my part, I include a link to their fine magazine and my latest poem, Chains of Damnation.  Enjoy my poem and all the others.  Enjoy their great stories and amazing art.  And please do subscribe to their newsletter.  They do great work and amazingly, are still free.  

And yes, if you scroll down to my poem, you will find that my name is spelled correctly as of this writing.  Thank you Mr. Editor. ;-)  And thank you Kerry Morgan.  

This poem is also showcased for OneStopPoetry