A cold harsh wind blew eerily
Whiplash cracked the limbs of trees
On this moonlit night ‘Old Hallows Eve’
From an endless abyss death regurgitates
And creatures of the twilight now arise
Tortured restless spirits possessed by thirst

A nightmare wraith upon the prowl
What could possibly be any worse
Feasting upon flesh in frenzied appetite
Justified on this night their evil deeds
Naive innocence must pay the fee
RIP – All those caught up in the fray
For a great shadow of darkness now at play

I am the rider of those scenarios stark
A blackness that strikes fear into the very heart
Upon a cold steed I bring the dark
Master of reigns o’er most hooven horror
Laying claim to all souls whom trespass
The henchman of hades horrific indeed
Upon the soil scarred ‘Neath this trail does bleed
A quota of flesh for the hounds of hell to feast

a collaboration by David Slater and Lemmy Rushmore
illustration by Niall Parkinson

Dark Rider2



I want not your council
and I seek not your aid
rather fade on to naught
in this spot where I’ve laid
all my dues I have paid
and so loyal I’ve stayed
yet betrayed I have been
by these things that invade
like to melt down within
just dissolve on away
take a trip on to gone
and it’s there I would stay
so I need not your help
and that pity you keep
just continue that fight
while forever I sleep
think I’ll push on myself
maybe finish my hole
and then in I shall crawl
just remains of a soul….
Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  –  Illustration by Niall Parkinson


crumpled corpse that continues
the lifeless carcass of past
just the victim that fell
to those things he’d amassed

just the roaming reminder
a vacant dweller of shades
and retreated I have
to where darkness pervades

the dispersal successful
the disbanding completed
but what be the use
only good I’ve deleted

agitations still present
and all disruptions persist
and among densest haze
I am left to exist

externally overcrowded
yet internally alone
behind these walls I have built
I’m just as dead as their stone….

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore – Illustration by Niall Parkinson

Lacuna Echo


why stumble through
with point long lost
why waste one’s time
and will exhaust
why turn blind eye
or deafened ear
when sane mind screams
just disappear
why even try
with naught to gain
when no good comes
‘mongst all the pain
when each step forth
leads back to hear
why not just grasp
that answer clear
when better dies
and worse remains
why not cut ties
to bitter strains
what else to do
but call it quits
when your worst foe
beside you sits….
Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  – Illustration by Niall Parkinson

NOBODY HEARS … (nemo ante mortem beatus)

if it would help me I’d scream
but no good would it do
it’s like grief’s seed was sown
and up it has grew
to bone it has gnawed
and more it keeps taking
seems on I shall be
partaking in aching
surrounded I am
and with no way around
so it looks as though
it is here I have drowned
those reasons aren’t rising
and all looks so bleak
not a need still remains
for trying to speak
from here in these depths
couldn’t muster the breath
and what be the point
when you’re lying with death
seems to it I’m chained
just it’s lowliest slave
nobody hears
from here in the grave….
Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore – Illustration by Niall Parkinson
Nobody Hears

Triumph rarely gleams, within its opaque and muddy orbs
one of the one struggles to detach, but is readily absorbed
other of the one yearns for love, but is forbidden to diverge
but both dance a conjoin eternal, every feeling to submerge

words and illustration by Niall Parkinson

untitled 5


as I lay me down to sleep
I pray my end I’ll finally reap
I hope to die before I wake
so there’s no more I’ll have to take
the days the foes I fail to beat
equipped they are for my defeat
no mercy shown to weary soul
instead a hill or deeper hole
such tortures grand all lent with ease
as deaf they’ve been to all my pleas
a brutal wrath seems each would bring
and none dare go ‘fore me they sting
too much they’ve been, too much they’ll be
and though they’ll leave it’s more I’ll see
I’m only one ‘gainst many they
already broke yet rough they play
my will they’ve claimed with all the rest
till just to be became a quest
with fullest worth I’d stand and fight
till naught remained but sorry plight
these odds too great, my chances slim
where darkness reigns and all is dim
the point long lost, the reasons none
until with this I know I’m done
so as I lay me down to sleep
I pray my end I’ll finally reap
I hope to die before I wake
so there’s no more I’ll have to take….
Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  –  Illustration by Niall Parkinson
An Answered Prayer


please do not touch me
I’m afraid I might break
left battered by this
I’ve had all I can take
beaten to breaking
I’ve been pounded to dust
I’d like to quit now
but it’s go on I must
fragile, I know it
with your words please use care
my fill I have had
and it’s all I can bear
no use to this place
just fragmented remains
shards of a past me
end results of the stains
rickety remnants
left to this feeble heap
my all I have sown
but demise I shall reap….

Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  –  Illustration by Niall Parkinson



protection it seemed
somehow failed to exist
as gather they would
as I failed to resist
some came of free will
and some I collected
but each one and all
in some way affected
it’s me they’d possess
till another I’d be
condemning a soul
I guess chose to agree
selected I was
and by them infected
till me they’d become
and I, but directed
so now I’ll exhale
all these demons that dwell
take care not to near
as it’s them I expel….
Poetry by Lemmy Rushmore  – Illustration by Niall Parkinson