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[TMG5] A Stolen Glance – Bo Chappell

Bo Chappell

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A Stolen Glance

In silken seas she slumbered
Celestial reflections from invisible love
Across a mirror
A silver river, running sharply into an ivory valley
A singular point not meant to be shared
Even here I go unnoticed
Yet forever shall I reign
God’s love washes over the alabaster range
To find me idle
Beside a river no longer silver
In waters no longer cold
Yet resting in the open
I will not cast a shadow
Despite my mark
I’ll never be known

coffe and kindleMonstersExist
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Interview with Norbert Gora

Norbert Gora is talented poet and writer that demonstrated that you can polish a turd! Don’t believe me? Check out his poem The Vast Sea of Shit in Deadman’s Tome Shit Fest. The poem provides layers upon layers of social commentary from a cynical perspective. As with all of the stories in the Shit Fest, The Vast Sea of Shit blends disgust and horror with an element of humor.

Mr. Deadman: Let’s start with why Shit Fest?

Norbert Gora: It’s because my interest in bizarro and extreme horror fiction. This kind of literature pushes the edge, but in my poem I tried to draw the attention of readers to another type of shit – contemporary media and idiotic behavior of people.

Mr. Deadman: You have a point about bizarro and extreme horror, nothing quite pushes the limits in terms of graphic content. However, what do you say to those that dismiss that graphic content as a gimmick?

Norbert Gora: As a gimmick? I’ve never heard of such readers. I’d rather expect people who dismiss these subgenres because of bestiality, stupidity and manifestation of the total fall of literature. What could I tell them? Your choice, but you won’t stop the development of this literature. The 21st century is the apogee of cruelty and idiocy.

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Mr. Deadman: Some dismiss the extreme content as unnecessary, but I agree that there are times when the graphic imagery is needed to tell a story. Take your poem, for example, a quick glimpse into the cruelty of humanity. I think the poem wouldn’t be as effective if it were “tame”.

Tell me, what was the inspiration, the motivation, for your poem?
Norbert Gora: I wrote this poem more than a year ago for a special call for submissions. It was supposed to be an anthology of the heaviest stuff between horror and bizarro. The editor inspired us with a short note: “Make your work disgust my life”. I have been improving it for so long that the deadline has finally passed. In fact, the motivation to writing this poem was very weird. I was very helpless then and I had to “restart” myself somehow. A poem about the shit was an ideal reboot.
Mr. Deadman: Wow, I didn’t expect a submission call for shit to be so… therapeutic? The poem reflects a brutal reality, but tell me about its depth? Was this based on a real event? Personal experience?
Norbert Gora: It based more on the observation of modern civilization, influenced by media. What do we have on TV, whether American or Polish? Is this something meaningful or just a total crap? Comedies in which the characters alternately shit and have sex, programs in which people admire a guy devouring two kilograms of beef on time. It looks like society is some kind of a huge loo, hah! That’s why I wrote this poem – to describe the darker part of humanity.

Mr. Deadman: Well, the poem certainly reflects the darker side of humanity. This line comes to mind. It grabbed my attention and worked well to frame the rest.

oh God, tell me why did you do it
clogged toilet with a monstrous poop
Not to get religious on you, and you’re free to go as deep as you feel comfortable with, but do you think God clogged the toilet that is humanity with a monstrous poop?
Norbert Gora: The hardest question, hah!
Well, according to religious teachings, God created us. He is also our “guardian”. After difficult, stressful experiences, most of us ask “God, why did you do that?”.
In this line, God nothing to do with it. I just wonder why He had to show me this toilet(knowing that He is our “guardian”). There are two answers:
1. If the toilet is a symbol of the world and God created us, we – as a humanity – poop on it. We don’t really care about the world.
2. It’s also a surreal, dingy allusion to people, which is connected with the first answer. We act like a sloven. In many cases, life comes down to consumption and excretion. This toilet is the final stage of “life”.
Mr. Deadman: Oh, that phrase is used a lot: God, why did you do that? I like your answers because I can see one would gravitate towards them. It’s true that as a species we are not afraid to exploit others and the environment for money and power. It’s also true that consumption and excretion is a fact of life. I can’t think of a single organism that doesn’t consume and excrete. While every organism follows this pattern, humans do it on a much larger scale. We may sound like a couple of hippies right now, but it’s true. People equals shit.
How do you feel that many will fear going number two after reading this disgusting book?
Norbert Gora: Then I will think that this was the point that we wanted to achieve.

Mr. Deadman: Hahaha, it really is. I couldn’t use a toilet without fear that a demon would bite my ass after watching Ghoulies II, and know I want others to feel the same!

What other projects do you have lined up?
Norbert Gora: I’m the author of more than 100 poems published in numerous anthologies around the world(most of them are horror&dark anthologies).
Mr. Deadman: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
Norbert Gora: I like… reading 😀 I assume you didn’t expect it
Mr. Deadman: How did you find Deadman’s Tome?
Norbert Gora: I found a call for submissions for Deadman’s Tome on Horror Tree. Then I looked at your website. It was very interesting, so I decided to send my submission.
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Real Vision Radio Open Mic

Deadman’s Tome podcast has been on Real Vision Radio for a while now, and people are tuning in. That warms my heart a bit, it does. Knowing that people are actually listening to the interviews, rants, conversations, and debates bolsters our drive and determination. I say our, because I know my co host would absolutely agree, and I hope he would be cool with giving back to the listeners in the form of an Open Mic. 

That’s right. Open Mic. 

An everything and anything goes open mic session during the live broadcast where YOU can recite a poem, a song, a monologue, or a short story. Each participant will have ten to fifteen minutes to use as they see fit. 

How does this work? Message me on Twitter at @mrdeadmandt or send an email at and let us know that your interested and we’ll set aside time for you. 

This is meant to be a fun experience and a place to practice your craft. Don’t be shy. 

The Deadman’s Tome podcast is a live broadcast that airs on Real Vision Radio and Spreaker on Fridays at 11pm EST/10pm CST. 

You can catch previous episodes on Spreaker, iTunes, and YouTube.

Go here to check out the prior shows 

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Ode to Krampus – Clive Carpenter

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Ode to Krampus

Clive Carpenter

T’was a week before Christmas,

Deep down in the hood,

When me and my gang

Was up to no good.


We had just hit Pete’s liquor store

Right down the block.

Stitch capped Pete with his 9,

And I with my Glock.


I cleaned out the drawer,

Took all the cash,

And Stitch grabbed a 40

Before makin’ the dash.


We ran down the alley

Like 2 bats out of hell;

Our 6th hit this week

And nobody would tell.


As we got closer to our homies,

We saw them all scatter.

And Stitch and I stopped

When we saw what was the matter.


This big-ass motherfucker

Came out of the dark

And his eyes glowed blood-red

As he started to talk.


He said, “I am Krampus”,

In a freaky-ass voice.

“And I see you’ve all been

Some very naughty boys.”


This fucker was huge,

Over 7 feet tall,

And he looked like a devil,

Nasty horns and all.


Chains hung ‘round his body,

They clanked when he moved.

And his knees bent backwards

And he walked on two hooves.


He was covered in fur

From his head to his tail.

And his mouthful of teeth

Were sharper than nails.


And to prove to us all

He wasn’t playin’ around,

He started fucking us up

Without making a sound.


With one giant hand,

He took Willie by the throat

And ripped out his spine

While he struggled and choked.


There was 6 of us left,

And all packin’ heat,

So we cut loose on Krampus;

Knocked him off his feet.


Krampus was on his back

As we all gathered ‘round

To get a look at this devil

So easily gunned down.


And that’s when it happened,

This part kinda sucked,

The razor claws of Krampus

Spilled all of Rico’s guts.


Then, the devilish creature

Smiled and spat,

And laid there and laughed

While we emptied our gats.


On his feet, once again,

With a clawed hand he slashed

And Smoov’s bald head

Flew off in a flash.


Slick Joe just stood there,

Frozen with fright,

So Krampus chewed off his face

With only one bite.


Then Big D tried to run,

But he didn’t get very far

As Krampus used a chain

To yank off his arms.


He ripped open D’s chest

And tore out his heart,

And looked at me and Stitch

But we got a head start.


We jetted down the alley,

Back toward the street,

But Krampus cut us off

And Stitch fell at his feet.


Grabbing a handful of hair,

Mighty Krampus lifted Stitch

And ripped off his head,

That son of a bitch.


He tossed me the head

And I caught it and yelled,

“You’re not taking me, bitch!

You can go back to hell!”


I dropped Stitch’s head

And went for my Glock

But Krampus was faster,

Which wasn’t a shock.


He stepped to me quickly

And spun me around

And with a snap of my kneecaps,

I was flat on the ground.


I screamed and kicked

But nobody could help

As his claws gouged my eyes

And he ripped off my scalp.


So heed my warning, asshole:

Don’t be a punk bitch,

There’s no escaping Krampus

When you’re on the naughty list!