HorrorInNoir

Fuck it, why not?

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Marxist Thinking Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Marxist Thinking Revision

Revolution! The banner for, The Proletariat of my ambition, Subjugated, Beneath the bootheel Of my Bourgeois apathy. Salivating with determination, Fierce, savage, thundering; Across the steppes of my mind Waving flags of red Over trampled, burnt fields Casualties of revolution Triumphant shouts Over the burning white flag Of status and class A phoenix dawn Across an infant state United from the ashes.

The Bells of St. Paul's Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

The Bells of St. Paul's Revision

The mourning bell tolls Across the bricks and shoals Of London, old Past pubs and roads where, many stories told The city cold and still, left to mourn A hero, once born Now laid to rest, On his nation's request Range Rovers of black Shouldering this armored cask Draped by the Union Jack To inter this son, named Slack Below the titanic spire Before the funeral pyre From this once great empire, That has fallen in mire.

The American Dream Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

The American Dream Revision

Heading full long, across the tarmac expanse Slender strip of black, strecthing into empty vastness The start of this journey, across one nation Searching for its heart, and its soul Rolling through fields as far as the eye can see, under the gentle breeze Clothed in green, as the money roll. Caught by the tumultuous city, gilded in light and sparkling distraction Founded on broken backs and splintered factions. Speeding through small towns crammed with charm and the musings of Steinbeck Left to rot, without gold or lead, upon piles of the long forgotten dead. Skirting crashing waves of cold, the warm wind blows Bringing garbage, o

Love Song in Drop D Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Love Song in Drop D Revision

An old guitar, Hanging on the wall, Collecting dust. Catching my eye. Battered body, Worn neck, Dull frets. Paint, far gone from luster. Walnut stained with oil From one set Of unskilled fingers After another. This old guitar Passed from person To person, but Without glory or fame. Handed off for, The same old reason: "Out of tune No matter what I do." Old strings, pulled through Reaching out, into stagnant air Beconing, As aged fingers of the beggar The sound hole peering Pick guard, as a tear Still, it weeps Silent, it speaks I take this old guitar That has been stoic witness for too long And left, battered and

Marxist Thinking by HorrorInNoir, literature

Love Song in Drop D by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Love Song in Drop D

An old guitar, Hanging on the wall, Collecting dust. Catching my eye. Battered body, Worn neck, Dull frets. Paint, far gone from luster. Walnut stained with oil From one set Of unskilled fingers After another. This old guitar Passed from person To person, but Without glory or fame. Handed off for, The same old reason: "Out of tune No matter what I do." I see this stained body Every crack catching the afternoon light Dust, hanging in space. Silence holding my breath. Fighting my instincts, I breathe "May I see?" Large arms unfold accompanied by a nod From the man behind the counter He grasps the neck, gingerly Shoc

The American Dream by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

The American Dream

Rolling fields as far as the eye can see, under the gentle breeze Clothed in green, as the money roll. The tumultuous city, gilded in light and sparkling distraction Founded on broken backs and splintered factions. Small towns crammed with charm and the musings of Steinbeck Left to rot, without gold or lead, upon piles of the long forgotten dead. The crashing waves of cold, the warm wind blows Bringing garbage, oil, and evermore; ashore. Steps of white marble, pure and just Mired in bureaucratic bust Plots of final rest, tranquil and clean Costing the legacy to be left, and a family bereft.

Jazz Night by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Jazz Night

The Big Easy sways Left to right Left to right In flourish of refined Decadence Left to right Left to right Along the Mississippi's might Light flicking like flame As bodies pass by the panes Raucous bedlam To the tune of bourbon Play on, play on Man, play on Dance madam, dance To that whiskey blues Dance madam, dance Both of you take a bow In the light of the rum-fired sky Left to right New Orleans swings By the shores of lake Ponchatrain She writhes Like the madam in the window To the golden sheen, whiskey blues The slow moon shines As the songs lie Like the sun at high noon A French Quarter tune Below that rum-

A Tree of Black by HorrorInNoir, literature

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Marxist Thinking Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Marxist Thinking Revision

The Bells of St. Paul's Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

The Bells of St. Paul's Revision

The American Dream Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

The American Dream Revision

Love Song in Drop D Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Love Song in Drop D Revision

Marxist Thinking by HorrorInNoir, literature

Love Song in Drop D by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Love Song in Drop D

An old guitar, Hanging on the wall, Collecting dust. Catching my eye. Battered body, Worn neck, Dull frets. Paint, far gone from luster. Walnut stained with oil From one set Of unskilled fingers After another. This old guitar Passed from person To person, but Without glory or fame. Handed off for, The same old reason: "Out of tune No matter what I do." I see this stained body Every crack catching the afternoon light Dust, hanging in space. Silence holding my breath. Fighting my instincts, I breathe "May I see?" Large arms unfold accompanied by a nod From the man behind the counter He grasps the neck, gingerly Shoc

The American Dream by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

The American Dream

Jazz Night by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Jazz Night

A Tree of Black by HorrorInNoir, literature

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Love Song in Drop D Revision by HorrorInNoir, literature

Literature

Love Song in Drop D Revision

HorrorInNoir

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About HorrorInNoir

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Artist // Student // Literature

Aug 2, 1991
United States
Deviant for 13 years
He / Him

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My Bio

The wonder that conveys you here is active yearning. Because, if we point thoughts, work, love and meaning; artwork happens in the name of human truth.

Favourite Visual Artist

M.C. Escher, Andy Warhol, Pablo Picasso, and Devic

Favourite Movies

Tron: Legacy, followed closely by Bladerunner

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Dj Laughingman, Deadmau5, Daft Punk, Bad Company UK, Black Sun Empire, and Rage Against the Machine

Favourite Writers

Edgar Allen Poe

Favourite Games

Armored Core 4: Answer

Favourite Gaming Platform

Xbox 360, Playstation 3

Other Interests

Writing, motorcycles, guns, video games, chess, billiards, Dj-ing, cars, model building, & more

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HorrorInNoir

Oct 8, 2013

So long, farewell, and thanks for all the fish.

0 min read

Alright, I'm done here. It was a good run, but on to bigger and better things. Farewell all.

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HorrorInNoir

Apr 27, 2013

Well now, this is interesting.

0 min read

Ok, so I know I have been so much less than active on here. I have taken on a whole new direction artistically, and now I'm doing full on graffitti art. It is something I've been in love with for years and had been off and on practioning and I finally have taken the leap, got up, and there's no turning back now. I've been taking the time of the last two years honing my technique and learning the different styles, wildstyle, stenciling, handstyles, etc. So, with that said, writing of any kind has taken a big back seat as well as my career in music has really taken off in recent months. I literally have no time to sit and write anymore. However

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HorrorInNoir

Jan 30, 2013

Fuck

0 min read

Well, I just can't get away. Disregard last post. I'm gonna stay. Not like there is anyone out there who gives two shits, but fuck you that's why. Also, mind the tap dancing blue polar bear. He bites.