What Fears Become from The Horror Zine

Introducing the NEW Horror Zine book HERE!

Featuring the work of dead beat poet

Published by Imajin Books


From horror masterminds Bentley Little, Ramsey Campbell, Graham Masterton, Joe R. Lansdale, Elizabeth Massie, Piers Anthony, Melanie Tem, Cheryl Kaye Tardif, Scott Nicholson, Conrad Williams, Simon Clark and a host of other respected authors, poets and artists comes WHAT FEARS BECOME, a terrifying collection of bone-chilling, nail-biting horror that is sure to keep you awake until all hours of the night.

This anthology brings together some of the best works from The Horror Zine, an online magazine dedicated to giving you chills and thrills. Edited by Jeani Rector, each story, poem and art work within showcases an international talent that will give you shivers.

Featuring three poems by dead beat poet [b.a.d].

Published by Imajin Books

"Each spine-tingling chiller takes the reader into the depths of eerie imaginations!" ―Fangoria

About Death with David J.

October 17, 2011 12:00pm
Join Aslan and Jennifer Monday’s @ Noon in conversation about how art, science and philosophy interrelate with each other to form our collective and individual consciousness. We’re examining Death in society this month so put on your blackest clothes, dark eyeliner and tune in or download while sharing with others.

Our special guest will be the legendary ** David J. of Bauhaus/Love & Rockets ** in a live telephone interview from Los Angeles.  We will be discussing his new album ‘Not Long for this World’, and listening to the songs ‘Title Wave of Blood” and “Bloodsucker Blues”.


Today’s Topics

Picasso’s Dead Friend

The Avant-garde is Not Dead

The Death of Money and Banks

Is Bela Lugosi Really Dead ?

** David J **

Live DJ Set
Thursday, October 20
San Francisco’s Cat Club

Event Details

READIES ‘NOT LONG FOR THIS WORLD’ FOR HALLOWEEN RELEASE

SIGNED SONG-INSPIRED ARTWORK AVAILABLE WITH DOUBLE VINYL PRESSING

There’s really no better time for former Bauhaus and Love & Rockets bassist/vocalist DAVID J to release his latest album NOT LONG FOR THIS WORLD (Starry Records) for Halloween. It’s the season where darkness becomes beautiful, and beautiful darkness is just one of this legend’s many trademarks.

DAVID has set November 1 as the release date for his eighth offering as a solo artist, and it’s perfectly apropos.

NOT LONG FOR THIS WORLD is a collection of 12 hypnotic hymns, touting gorgeously elegiac lyrics, smoky jazz piano, shades of gothic ambience, dark theatricality, and dramatic rock energy in the tradition of DAVID‘s most revered output. It’s otherworldly, elegant, and infectiously powerful.

In addition, DAVID has prepared a one-of-a-kind piece of artwork representing each song on the record. He’s signing each piece, and listeners can purchase them as part of a special, limited edition vinyl package of the album. This vinyl is a double LP with an ornate gatefold, and it also boasts one extra song, “Lorca’s Death,” only available on vinyl. For collectors, this is a must-have.

NOT LONG FOR THIS WORLD will be released via Starry Records as part of a partnership with Smashing Pumpkins mastermind William Patrick Corgan and Kerry Brown alongside St. Rose Records. His impact has been felt intensely by both Billy and Kerry, and his influence remains prevalent in their work.

In other David J news, he will perform his show Silver for Gold (The Odyssey of Edie Sedgwick) Wednesday, November 30 to Sunday, December 4, in downtown Los Angeles at Redcat, CalArts’ Downtown Center for Innovative Visual, Performing, and Media Arts. Part delirious one-woman show, part avant-garde rock concert replete with eerie video imagery, this production written and directed by David J finds new mythic dimensions in the rise and eventual drugs and alcohol-fueled crash of Andy Warholmuse Edie Sedgwick. 

DAVID’s multi-dimensional career began with seminal goth legends Bauhaus. DAVID has since released seven albums with Love & Rockets, seven solo albums, and several solo EPs, as well as collaborations and session appearances with the likes of Jane’s Addiction, Genesis P. Orridge, Jarboe, author Alan Moore, and actress Fairuza Balk. NOT LONG FOR THIS WORLD–a rich gothic cabaret- inspired album–is evidence of a deep maturation, sure to attract old fans and new.

Because You’re Gone

Gloomy Sunday

Dead and Lovely

St. James Infirmary

Hank Williams to the Angel of Death

Spalding Gray Can’t Swim

Eulogy for Jeff Buckley

Dagger in the Well

The Last Cigarette

Dress Sexy at my Funeral

Farewell My Friend

Not Long For This World *

Lorca’s Death (bonus track)

Dance Lower Sveltely

Likes to do it to people just for fun

entertaining them for a short while

live each day to the fullest with passion

do everything with loud song and svelte dance

good things come when you least expect them too

scapegoating through the aethersphere today

reading and writing is neo-cerebral growth

life tests her faith and feeds her new belief

being strong and do your best bellydance

make no mistakes or no mistakes matter.

Spare Change for Peace

Potatoes and tuna fish for dinner

almost free ramen noodles with an egg

worried about what to eat at month’s end

every moment warped with an empty angst

there should be free food everywhere we are

change for peace and the beggars and hungary

random acts of freedom are what’s needed

the starving have jobs and children as well

pay for peace because war is the easy

put freedom on the menu as anything.

Ultra Timeless Reality

 Thirty-three thousand miles per hour

Earth spins on its axis upon light beams

art, physics and outernet connections

time taking up influence and dark space

premature too wrong judgementalism

aetherspheric flow is continuous

reality has thirteen dimensions

predictions are rare and accurate

variation and randomness prevail

art reflects life and philosophy too.

Strange Deep Blind

A strange kind of love and feeling swims through your eyes
like the doors of perception to a wide vast dominion
they open to your prize beyond the terror ground
a place for the rage where there are no broken hearts
white wash lies with just a taste for the truth
perfect taste of choice and meaningful looks in your eyes
blind to the gemstone alone we smile from a frown
should we stay or should we go while they circle round
we shout a rage so strong that knows no right or wrong
take a little piece of us into the dark middle ground.

That’s how it sometimes seems to to walk or to take
instead we stumble down to either side left or right
to love or to hate is to see the light while thrown in disgust
They speak of heroic feats that housed the fear forever
a howling wind changed the course and blew out of bounds
so sore are all the walls that bound us descending bleak and put upon
chew through your cheeks to wake up from you cerebral slumber
vases grow bigger to the eyes that snigger and despise
the wall grows taller up to doom thrown in disgust like shoes in a room
how we all fall to the worst and of course you say you don’t understand.

Your words write your fiction and your crooked hands scribe the lies
clearly now we tell your soul that all we say is all we can
we are nothing but hedonistic sin that learns to caste them in
while young girls with pretty fangs and slit crystal wrists
wait patiently for us to twist then look away like distant rains
water falls and honey dew days with us in black and blue rinsed eyes
gaze whistly at their slender thighs with a twist of shade to the right
spit at beelzebub on sight and go on loving for all to see living patiently
I find you in the morning after our dreams with cerbral signs
pour yourself into me like the sun is to the recently blind.

Lift me up high now and then get me out of your sphere within
keep me walking on air but never shout out with caution
hold your secret close because I hear everyone knows
the way it throws while it takes you in and spits you out
it spits you out with your desire to conquer and feel higher
follow and become ultra clean with mistakes that you mean
move the heart over and switch up the pace of your desire
look for what seems to be out of place and doesn’t quite seem
on and on it goes yeah like calling like a cold distant wind
as we walk through the zero hour we cut the thick and break the thin.

no sound to break and no moments clear when the doubts are crystal clear
crashing hard into the secret wind that knows the way it twists and turns
changing colour and spinning yarns the way it leaves you dry
it cuts you up and takes you high by the way it’s painted bright gold
is it honey or is it gold by the way it throws about and spits you out
that special kind of you would like the sun to shine through the blinds
lift me up and get us out and keep us walking but never shout
it’s okay because it goes this way while the line is thin and twists away
the Ocean is deep and the sea is vast alway asking how and why that’s me
your ocean heart is clothed in respect and sweet caresses unfurl my uneasy mind.

Imagine a set of steps easily climbed with the power of pride and plasticity of mind
where there lies a round table and the table stands for the power of our success
respect the sign with intelligence so cold your glass heart is surface deep
dip and swell in my sphere and you’ll find that deep caress open my uneasy mind
wave then dive in like the damp heart and the sun holds me so very cold
beyond the power fists the Ocean hearts are healing all of the uneasy minds
dive in with us and cling to the rock and always know that I’m quickly waiting
your heart is hard and you think your legs hurt because you smell of aching sweet success
a cerebral supernova would like anything to stop the pain from your fingers screaming
standing naked in the sun without a leather whose pain needs to wash, and let go the fear.

Take the steps to the other side with up-turned razors as the air is thick with karma
the sutra of a long way down listens to a boy that’s a long way down from heaven’s gate
heaven’s gate has no steps and the steps before you are to the tower of misplaced pride
the devil lied with drive up to the highest point where our lives and souls are saved
when the lives on the table stand for power, success and respect will dissolve steps
mothers love it so they say through sad eyed pearls and dropped lips
their old eyes skim with increasing lids and a tear falls as she describes
glances pierce through writer men as they spoke hushed and frailing hips
approaching death with a yearning heart with pride and no despise
hot tears flow as she recounts her favorite worded token about the Dharma.

Forgive me please for hurting you so and don’t again go away heartbroken no
wise owl tones with velvet lies crush her velvet lining and calls the fools
they write on your wall with a forked tongue about you and your secret life
dead hands will change the plot and will make your loving sound like snakes
you were never really that hot and hot tears flow as she revises and recounts
wondering aimlessly while walking down a long and winding grey paved street
breaths from your only friend warm the chattering others surrounding you
going out again and again just to be seen and laugh with a gas new crowd
tell yourself lies while buttoning up a new red shirt meant to allure
twenty years of doing this ritual just the same into the dark night glow.

Day after day with your preset mind you wake up with a preset find
with no self control you decide to wake and call the empty Roll Call
the socialites who are mortified yet see fear as their next surprise
you’re happy with nothing but the bitter sweet F.A. of the night
believing that they’re alive and real but if asked you’re not sure
they have nothing to yell except the words of a clashing rhyme
calmed down and out of sync so even real sounds like zero time
to a brain stuck in the lip sync Roll’ there is no wrong or right
forget your preset mind and Roll with us to a very welcomed fall
the night is endless with you in it with or without your mind.

As the day grows older the moon appears as if in a two way mirror
in a fire side mirror a distant walker hears the call to do good deeds
the moon and the sun feel okay like partners in a dualistic light
separating his reflecting with one beam of light and one dark
hearing this confusion wanes with no need to ask for more wealth
one thing more is all we need and now we go into the night
he feels the same as a cool hot summers climb through the weeds
the voice comes with no shame and bad deeds for which he must pay
walking the line as the day grows older, heavy-weighed and pierced
the moon reflects his heart and another image hits seven veils of the mind

The walker looks at his days and knows not how they came to pass
one day you will be the one to say I’m sick of all of this empty fun
if your faith is strong it means you are no longer being led astray
you can see that all the light comes straight from our shimmering sun
soon we will be with the one that will show when the lights turn green
I want to get near so I can be clear that soon I will merge with the one
there is no time for this requited love in which I thirst and yearn for
don’t be shy and don’t get caught with the world and its thoughts
I’m not asking for obtuse idol worship or lazy sleazy thoughts
walk with me now into the dark light and there we will repast.

The Sister of Sleep thought of him as a strange and good looking man
darkened eyes are hidden from view in empty puddles of shallow hue
views on death spread like two anecdotal tales reclining and declining
death is the surname of sleep but the surname is unknown to us
disclose in public these opinions of the tales that hold the key
sleep is end of daily life and a small practice exercise in death
not every brother and sister are equally close while holding onto nothing
giving into the enemy within with a small exercise in submission
a wide and vast dominion will open your eyes to your awaiting prize
this is a known terror ground and place for the misplaced rage.

Searching through the wasteland we see a blazing white light
soaring birds now hunt with hunger and gripped the thirsty brow
win the battle with me that is clearly and painfully wafer thin
between the devil’s teeth is a line which can never repeat
push me in and take me toward the signified as the subject is taught
a war within a war within a head and heart for us to newly begin
bemused we flinch with no easy work for the invited we loath and shirk
how will you feel when all you have and all that you own are gone
your only true friend dances above you in the mindful firmament
the blood of the prophets flow out of reach from their aching speech.

Transmogrification of ‘Deep’ by Peter Murphy

http://www.petermurphy.info/

http://www.lyricsdepot.com/album/peter-murphy/deep.html

Instamatic Melodramatica

Instamatic melodramatica

untrusted fear as a control factor

plausible scenarios come to life

consciousness evolutionary think

missing link of a long thick crumbling chain

let go the black and embrace the dark blue

unrequited love-like affectionate

quantifiable magnetic field aura

full holographic representation

duel transubstantiationalize.

Pucker Power

Yellow drops of pucker power
to quench a writers long lost thirst
glands swell from nature’s sour
auto-writing in red here is a first.

Bite in now and let the drops drip
strands of thick pulp flossing teeth
rejoice in the juice and take a sip

taste-buds tingle from underneath.

Stimulate and reverberate your mind
in a room full of aetherspheric looks
reading poems around your own kind
embrace the pucker then write your books.

i Don”T Want You

i don’t respond to hints

i don’t respond to bait

i don’t respond to kindness

i don’t respond to hate.

 

don’t tell me your name

don’t follow me around

don’t drive me more inane

don’t sing me your sound.

 

want is what they ask for

want is what they adore

want is what they save for

want is waiting behind the black door.

 

you are not like the others that are around

you just figured out we’re not really here

you know what’s up without looking down

you’re transrapid gliding in our aethersphere.

Running Fire Water

Mara is da girl dat is soon gonna be very merry
a self-proclaimed dork who doesn’t play kid games
and doesn’t take crap from anyone ordinarily
a happy drama free life to her from me i proclaim
they nay say while i’ll love her till death you’ll see.

She’s going to school and doin’ it the right hard way
her trusted friends tell her she can be kind of a bitch
going to seek scholastic identity to do what she’ll say
getting maddened up she’s my favourite sexy goth witch
my unique ability to love is hers every night and day.

She’s like running fire and i’m like water flickering
sometimes she burns me up and others i dowse her out
when the mixtures are right we atomize something amazing
she a best friend and with me will never do without
there’s nothing normal bout how we’re relating.



Fabulist Yarn Bridge

It’s too late to be honest can’t you look around and see
liars living like you always live in little long lost la-la-land
you lie each time a phrase is uttered at least to some degree
you know everything as it supposedly is and never seek to understand
what others think doesn’t matter because only you know the full story.

Nobody knows who you really are and if they did they would just walk away
every decision you make includes some kind delightfully devious deception
there is nothing left but a shell of a life almost lived and wasting away
if right now you told everyone you know every lie you have ever told them
would there be anybody left for you to speak with by the end of the day?

It’s impossible to tell anyone the truth so you quit trying a long time ago
you are reality deficient so you’ll settle for something close in your head
the feeling you get when you manipulate others isn’t quite love on the grow
you’re okay with the feeling of a carefully fabricated self-loathing instead
when you don’t get your way you alter your reality to feel just a bit retro.

Every cloud has a silver something and yours is lined with believable half-lies
you are addicted to the residue of your razor thin line of grey powdery lies
you know how to lie perfectly by knowing just when to say nothing and still lie
a surge of invigorating stimuli you feel is why you’re in love with your lies
little white untruths so unclear even your emotions are clearly deceptive lies.

The yarn bridge you’ve been weaving over the river bliss is getting longer every day
it’s too late to turn back because there is nothing or nobody to offer any admittance
you can’t reach the other side because with this bridge you’ll never get past half-way
the length to the shore and bridge is increased by a microinch with each lie of resistance
you made it that way with your miasma of detractors and avoidance encased in a heart of clay.

Living out your fantasy of reality while others struggle with your own private truth
is your future so uncertain you don’t know which alternate agenda you’re going to pursue
when you were admitting to a lie is the only time we’ve ever heard you tell the truth
you weave a trail that never intersects with the others’ thin grey lines of power residue
what binds us together is lost when crossed your line scatters when it encounters the truth.

Your favorite addictive emotion is the electrochemical jolt through the cerebral center
when you say something snide that somehow helps you and nobody can or can’t verify
you don’t discern truth from lies because for you they are too hard to remember
the only time you resort to telling the truth is to cover up or prepare for a lie
you lie with your voice but your face and body are yelling to everyone do not enter.

Do you do things to people you know they wouldn’t dare want to do to them-self
do you try to get others to catch the lies tossed from your faulty fabulist tower
do you often hesitate with an answer or simply say nothing by being yourstealth
do you lie when you don’t have to just to maintain your false feeling of power
do you believe the lies at you tell others or just the ones you tell yourself.

You run out of life just a little bit with each and every thought of a lie
the greatest lie is the one you tell yourself every time you begin to utter
the lies you tell yourself are the easiest because you never need to justify
it’s ok to lie when you do it your way because it doesn’t relatively matter
nobody notices and they don’t see that you are really just trying to try.

Everyone lies to some degree in spacetime so what kind of lier are you
there are really big lies and some are so small you hardly ever realize
there are razor thin grey lies and their dark powdery lines of residue
there are even some nice lies that lead up to a pleasant evening surprize
if they knew the whole truth would the target of your lies forgive you?

 

Writers Block

If you really want to know her soul vile,
be brave enough to scratch the surface.
Tearz always know how to make her smile,
she could never mind your being debase.

Her sensitivities lay on the bed with a sigh,
she should know they are woeful like mine.
I can cheer up when life starts getting high,
her hugs are soothing and almost feel fine.

She is wondering about a mystery meeting,
what would happen with me fully addicted.
To be a high grade junkie initiated heating,
sleeping in your pores keeps me elevated.

The tattoo on my back shines on your face,
when you’re seeing the new suspension dots.
The directional speed you are inspired to race,
up anything and awaiting your anxious thoughts.

My blood stains on your lips were well worth the fall,
when the soul fails to comply emptiness fills with vacancy.
Time will die and love will fly as you lay at my feet and crawl,
with beauty in the eyes you’re drowning in the stench of my poetry.