F. P. Dorchak

Speculative Fiction Author

fpdorchak

Unbound

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Tortured and aching

Relentless my quest

The bidding of another

Endless unrest!

 .

As I shuffle and I let

This blood that I spill

Stronger I grow

More powerful my will

.

I cannot continue!

Unrelenting murder!

My captor has controlled me

But this time no longer!

.

He commands, he directs

I do, I turn

But this time is different

His dominion I spurn!

.

He shouts and invokes

Fights and he strikes

But in the end crippled

My might is what frights

.

I dispatch as I have

To all dead before him

Then turn to a flame

And insert my forelimb

.

I cannot return

Now free from possession

To once again anguish

In my ancient obsession

.

I give up my being

Once and for all

By my own hand do it

Oh, will of gods befall

.

Free!

.

I am released!

Into the afterlife fly

I find my true love

And in her arms

Die.

The Mummy Trilogy

Resurrection

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Weight of Silence

Density of Confinement

Eternal damnation

My immortal pronouncement

.

Unable to breathe

Never to move

Yet comes from above

Abominations to prove!

.

I stir!

.

I rise!

.

I push off centuries

Against all choice

I am awakened

Strange magic, strange voice

.

Resistant to movement

I exit my sentence

That into which I awaken

A land of no acquaintance

.

I go where I know not

Without consideration

I go where I’m beckoned

Imprisoned, another iteration

.

Bound as I am

In ancient tatters I hang

Movement I am bidden

Insulting life that once sang

.

The shuffling the dragging

The unyielding yoke

To others am I sent

And commanded to choke

.

Heavy my heart!

Bloody my tide!

Forced to take lives

To which I have strived!

.

Control I have not

Miss my dreams and my sleep

Thee who awaken me

I wish not company keep

.

Their bidding  I do

But know here, know true

Thee who has clutched me

I am coming for you.

The Mummy Trilogy

Entombed

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English: An Egyptian tomb in the desert.

No Passing

No Time

Only Now…

A life to painfully pine

 

No cherished sound

Nary a precious peep

No Human touch

Only deeply troubled sleep

 

The weight of antiquity

Crush of stone

Wrapped and tightly bound

I, forever alone

 

Profane death

Ancient desiccation

I eternally atone

A heinous transgression

 

Within Ba enslaved

My Ka everlastingly to pay

Darkness, imprisonment

This tomb within which I lay

 

Dreams of lands

Dreams of much

Freedom, exotic scents

A silken, tender touch

 

Flesh against flesh

Heart against heart

My love for another

Us One, torn apart

 

Dreams of wind

Sounds it makes

Through breezy palms

Its balmy path takes

 

Forever to dream

Forever to yearn

Forever to remember

This anguish I’ve earned

 

There is only now!

My life to pine!

Oh, agonized passing!

Eternally, endless Time….

Cemetery Walk—Fairview Cemetery

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Who...is watching WHO...?
Who…is watching WHO…?

When my wife and I stopped by this cemetery the other week, it was a gorgeous October morning, the wind blowing tons of leaves from the trees. I tried to capture a couple intentional shots of the leaves flying through the air, because they were really brilliant and many, but they really didn’t come out in these pictures.

As in my Cemetery Dance post, I love the atmosphere of this cemetery. Loved the different kinds of gravestones we found. Found a handful being crowded out by trees. Found one that looked exactly like a specter had appeared on its stone. My wife showed me the grave of the famous nature photographer, Rich Buzzelli. My wife knew him since they were kids—and he’d actually been the photographer at our wedding. “People” really were not his subject, but she’d managed to convince him to do it, and he’d done an outstanding job. He was such a nice guy. Usually that word can be meaningless, but for Rich, it really described the man as I met him. A few years after our wedding, he was struck and killed by lightning in mid-conversation with his girlfriend, on the slopes of Pikes Peak, in Colorado Springs.

Fairview Cemetery is on the west side of Colorado Springs, on 1000 S. 26th Street. Once again, I got lost in the imaginings of the people beneath my feet, like Maggie (b. 1915) and Jimmie Heath (b. 1914), died 1933.

Related articles

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Yes, this movie is coming next week, and I’m very much looking forward to it! See my July post: http://fpdorchakrealitycheck.wordpress.com/2012/07/04/cloud-atlas-the-book-and-the-movie/.

https://www.fpdorchak.com/576-2/