Blood On The Moon

This dark, silly, and serious sequel to KEEP THE HEART OF A CHILD and THE QUEEN OF HATS is the third volume in Lori R. Lopez’s Poetic Reflections book series.

Poem: once upon a monster moon

Under the city’s canals, amidst a secret web of conduits Hide many a wonder in the disguise of darkness, Veiled by shadow and a discreet demeanor, a shyness

Darkverse: The Shadow Hours

A rich gathering of poetry with a dismal twilight atmosphere, a brooding nature, an eerie tone . . . DARKVERSE: THE SHADOW HOURS encompasses such pieces written by Lori R. Lopez between 2009 and 2017 . . .

Poetic Reflections: Thirteen-O-Clock!

Let’s be serious. (A very stern look.) Ha, fooled ya. Probably scared you a tick or a tock if you’ll admit it. You won’t? Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain?

Poetic Reflections: Mothers

I was planning to call this “Blank”. I had even typed it up at the top in preparation, but at the last minute I decided to change the theme . . .

Poetic Reflections: Horror Limericks

Time, time, time. I think it’s time. Yes, that’s what it is. The next subject for a poetic reflection. No, no, no. Scratch that. Well, it is high time for a new column.

Poem: Dark

A black hole is etched in my soul Space has no end, no beginning It bounces to the knife-edge of Nevermore And beyond, perhaps too far

Poem: birds of night

The birds of night flap broodful wings Against the pewter clouded mist Though sleep might claim most At this hour of witchcraft and ghoul Their leather-like flails evoke a restless

Poem: Eulogy

There was something in the basement . . . A girl cowered in her bed at night and listened To a mournfully somber wail that echoed Through the floor of her room, imprisoned.

Poem: city of angels

Halfway to the city of angels I may have lost my mind I think it fell out the window of the car When we hit a bump on the freeway

Poem: screaming pumpkins

What if you woke And found yourself cursed — The clock ticking backward Your reflection unreversed? If the canary were tweeting Dead-battery-chirp babble And you drew only blank tiles