The April Second Selected Poet is Alexis Child

Please feel free to email Alexis at: alexis.nocturna@rogers.com

WINTER’S REQUIEM

I am snowed-in between two white lids,
drawing no breath from acid kisses
burning in cold forgetfulness. I hide like a
stillborn child, no windows to see what is there.

I have escaped, stepping from my skin,
effacing dark crimes that enter another year,
guilty of blood on their mind. Fear’s wild eyes
are no less a devil, coffined in the icy earth.

A miasma of trauma quickens into birth,
biting emotions carnivorously, sick with
what is swallowed. Storm of fear so close,
relinquish your hold; no more dying need
be done, leading into winter once again.

THE DEMON EATER

Impure outlines exorcised
On wounds uncleansed
Shift cloak of sin off shoulders
Lustful angels fall like flies
Around the stems of sacrifice

Darkness beyond the grave
Mingles in licentious dance
Encompassed with wild hymns
Demonic infection glows pure fire
Driven into distant lands

He is not the last priest
To sully bright truths
Of the many-voiced monster
Distressed heir of hell
Seeking rest but finding none
Returning to whom it came from 

WHAT KILLED ALEISTER CROWLEY?

He summoned Pan until the darkness of
chaos appeared, or a demonic counterfeit
in vague and monstrous shapes. Crouching
naked in a corner, stripped of magician's
robes, he is haggard and wild-eyed, gibbering
in tongues; chained to the spirit of fear, a mere
reflection of his former commanding self.

He descends into the deeper emptiness of
the abyss, appearing to look upon the
sleeping ocean, waiting for it to awaken,
hoping to hear the bell of the God's realm,
yet knows the Old Ones are locked away,
senile from neglect, dead or dying in a
labyrinth of sewers rotting beneath the city.

Still in a trance, the mystic departs to
the domain of the pagan dead, stars
looking downwards with a holy glance.

EYES OF THE WORLD

Coal-black eyes burn like an inner volcano
as they come alive. From their crumbling
depths are the murky waters of madness,
caught in a relentless tide. An echoing voice
of unpleasantness lingers in the air, laced with
tragedy, and all things the gods despise.

Dark orbs open to immortal worlds, holding the
grief of ages; entire civilizations that fell and rose
again, the misery of mortality, bloody battlefields,
charnel houses, the wrath of forgotten deities,
secrets unlocked, collapsing stars, visions of a
dying world—all live within those eyes, urns
that contain the ashes of innumerable woes.

Alexis Child hails from Toronto, Canada; horror in its purest form: A calculated crime both against the aspirations of the soul and affections of the heart. She worked at a Call Crisis Center befriending demons of the mind that roam freely amongst her writings. She lived with a Calico-cat child sleuthing all that went bump in the night and is haunted by the memory of her cat.

She is currently signed to Nostilevo Records

Her fiction has been featured in The House of Pain, Screams of Terror, SpecFicWorld.com, The Official Nephilim Site, and U.K.'s Dark Of Night Magazine.Her poetry has been featured in numerous online and print publications, including Black Petals, Blood Moon Rising, Estronomicon eZine, Death Head Grin, Midnight Lullabies Anthology, Sein und Werden, The Horror Zine, and elsewhere. Her first collection of poetry, "Devil in the Clock," will be released in print in the future by Witchfinder Press. 

Visit her HERE