The Arrival of the Vampire of Ogrencisi – Poetry by Shalom Galve Aranas

Adorably Horror Series – Shalom Galve Aranas

The Arrival of the Vampire of Ogrencisi

From the mountains of the Pyrenees
the Vampire of Ogrencisi
brought down the newly born daughter
of his immortal friend, Ivan
who died in battle.
Now his sister awaits from the steps
of Ivan’s manor ablaze
with candlelights.
Bloodied from battle and
Weary from the long horse trek
from the cold monastery
where the child was born
of a mother who begged him
not to take her child.
Ogrencisi took to the forest
back to the manor,
feeding the child from
a bleating goat, away
from the knowledge
of enemies for now
Ogrencisi knew his destiny
and weakness
lay in the child, at the sum
of twenty one years
shall be
his immortal bride.


Shalom Galve Aranas is a freelance writer published in Enchanted Conversations, Synaeresis, St. Andrews and elsewhere. She is a loving, single mother of two.

Green Dragon & Other Poetry by Lynn White

Adorably Horror Series – Lynn White

Green Dragon

Does the ghost believe what he’s seeing

as the green dragon floats by

breathing rainbows

from flower filled puffs of breath.

Would you believe it?

Would I

believe it?

After all,

this is not the usual sort of dragon

whose fire filled breaths register alarm.

But alarm registers, nevertheless,

as this is not the usual sort of dragon

and none of us are sure

what will happen next.

First published in Visual Verse, 2016

I was Always Afraid Of Rabbits

“I was always afraid of rabbits”

said the purple dragon.

I knew it to be true.

I’d known him for a long time,

long before I became a witch

and took to the water

to watch over him.

It’s the white ones he fears most

and they are mostly white ones

down here.

He won’t eat them.

He used to eat fish

but now he is afraid to eat them

now he’s seen them eating the rabbits.

They’ve eaten the fur off this one,

but he believes it was white

and believing is seeing

after all.

The fish have eaten everything

except for the head and eyes

the most fearsome parts

for the purple dragon.

It’s found him now,

he pushes it away in panic

but it won’t go,

it won’t go.

It’s covering his face,

taking it over 

and getting ready

for the rest.

It won’t go,

not unless I can grasp it,

and hold it

peel it off

take it away,

then bewitch them both.

First published in With Painted Words, October 2018


Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud ‘War Poetry for Today’ competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including: Apogee, Firewords, Capsule Stories, Light Journal and So It Goes.


Find Lynn at: 


Dead Heads & Other Artwork by Shannon Gardner

Adorably Horror Series – Shannon Gardner

Dead Heads 
Watercolor and Ink on Paper 
Bird Skull
Watercolor and Ink on Paper 
A Joke To You
Assemblage on Paper 


Shannon creates macabre art depicting disturbing and horrifying work with elements of occult symbolism and iconography. Her interest in the macabre began while studying nature and the paranormal. She appreciates the spontaneous process of nature and strives to explore Earth’s unearthed beauty while imitating natural imperfections. Her use of watercolor and India ink are unforced and create beauty within flaws while crafting an earthy grunge appearance. 

A Black Widow & Other Poems by Linda M. Crate

Adorably Horror Series – Linda M. Crate

a black widow
i’m the spider,
you’re the fly;
what is normal to me
is chaos to you

so let me enjoy
your screaming—

they say i have a pretty face,
but i am quite terrifying;
no one ever sees me coming

until they’re dead—

charming and funny,
they always underestimate me;

always write me off as cute—

i am a black widow
one bite is all i need,
and then you’re gone
like the fallen leaves of autumn
thrust into a black bag and never
seen again.
-linda m. crate

feisty little damphyr
not quite
human nor vampire,
but a shade between
i am the feisty
little damphyr;

everyone thinks i’m funny even
when i’m being mean—

they don’t quite understand the
depths of my rage, my pain,
or my wrath;

they don’t understand that the hand that
feeds them will turn at any sign of disrespect—

these blood lusting fangs will extract every
last ruby that kept them alive,
i’m not someone you want to meet alone in the
forest at night;

but they dismiss me as pretty and beautiful
sometimes even cute

i use it to my advantage.
-linda m. crate

it’s nothing personal
tall enough not to be short
yet not tall enough to be tall
i am someone they easily
quiet and contrite
people often concede that i am
and i let them think that—
i revel in the fear
of my prey,
and i like to see their torment
when they realize
that i’m a monster no one
warned them about;
because no one suspects
women or their magic to be
powerful until they’re
too powerful to be stopped—
when they beg me not to bite,
i simply explain that everyone needs
to eat;
it’s nothing personal
even when it is.
-linda m. crate

a lust never satisfied
i am regal

they never suspect
someone so refined
and so charming
to be a monster,

and that’s the most thrilling aspect
of it all;
to never be seen until you’re ready to be heard—

fangs sharper than the edges
of the angriest moon,
and every bit as unforgiving;

i love to fall down from the trees
paralyzing them with fear as they turn around

they never anticipate the red eyes
or the aggression or this hunger
which drives me forward

it’s a lust that never seems satisfied,
always demands more.
-linda m. crate

this blood lust screaming
once they put me in a coffin
threw me underground,
but i broke free from the wood
and nails;

my sharp edges were sharpened
by this rage of being left for dead
whilst still alive—

everyone knows a coffin is but a
bed for the undead,

and it was a bit infuriating to think
i would be shoved beneath the ground
for a year and simply left there
when i never asked to sleep;

but we cannot always get what we want
or so they say—

i came back from the funeral they
designated for me with a vengeance,
and they will be the first victims of this
blood lust screaming in my fangs.
-linda m. crate


Linda M. Crate’s works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of six poetry chapbooks, the latest of which is: More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019). She’s also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). She has published three  full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020), The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020), and Mythology of My Bones (Cyberwit, August 2020).

Frutti Fresqui – Watercolor Painting by Analia Adorni

Adorably Horror Series – Analia Adorni

“Frutti Fresqui”(Fresh fruits)


Analia Adorni was born in Argentina and studied at the National University of Arts of Buenos Aires. She winced the fellowship for artisans of Tuscany Region and moved to Italy where she continues the studies at Visual Center of Pietrasanta (Tuscany)and Il Bisonte (Center for Printmaking in Florence). She participates in  collective exhibitions in Argentina, Italy and others countries of Europe and America and she maded solo exhibitions in Island (Lhistus Art Gallery), Italy (Casa di Dante, Florence) Spain(Cal Gras Residency of Arts) and Argentina (University of Social Sciences) . She developed residencies of arts in France and my artworks are in Museums in Italy, Argentina and Ukraina.


Wedding Dreams – Poetry by P.J. Reed

Adorably Horror Series – P.J. Reed

Wedding Dreams
P.J. Reed

She sat in soft candlelight
shooting stars flew through the night.
Soft moonlight touched her auburn hair
caressed her frowning face so fair,
rosebud lips murmured his name,
watching through the windowpane,
as candle wax, dripped slowly down
upon her white wedding gown.

A red sun rose behind the hill,
the dying candle flame grow still,
and summer flowers petals flew,
swept away with skies of blue,
as the leaves browned with shame
and the mists of winter came.
Ice jewels hung from every tree,
green fields changed to frozen sea.

Grey clouds raced across the sky,
while she began to melt and cry.
Slow tear trails crossed her face
crystal drops on ancient lace.
Ghostly fingers held dried petals
as softly a fine dust settles.
She stands clutching her bouquet,
still waiting for her wedding day.


P.J. Reed
Writer of Warlocks. Destroyer of Worlds.

She is an award winning multi-genre author with books ranging from high fantasy, horror, to haiku. She writes the Richard Radcliffe Paranormal Investigations series and the Bad Decisions series. Reed is also the editor and chief paranormal investigator for the Exmoor Noir newsletter.

Reed lives in Devon, England with her two daughters, two rescue dogs, and one feral cat called Sammy.
For more information about Reed visit one of her websites below but choose wisely!
Horror/ Paranormal –
Poetry –
Fantasy –
Twitter –
Facebook –

Unfortunate Metamorphosis of Mother Nature & Other Artwork by Martina Rimbaldo

Adorably Horror Series – Martina Rimbaldo

Unfortunate metamorphosis of Mother Nature

Background –stained with scarlet  blood .

Hair   lifted up   in the atmospheric void,

nothing to hold on to ,

peaks of her  hair locks dance   as flames of fire in her pain .

Plastic green shade arrow launched by corrupt humanity wounds her body.

Moment of her fall is frozen in time on the artist’s canvas 

humiliation shown to all people,

for our own shame – not hers.

Tormented face,  agony of her  eyebrows and clenched eyelids, leaves no one indifferent.

Once vivid flowers withered in the moment of her demise.

Blush pink, now pale skin.

Beneath  her rib cage heartbeat stops.

Before her last breath, Mother Nature releases all her rage on humans –murderers of Nature  but also of our own selves.

Flower on her marble gravestone, is the same flower on our own   tombs. 


while the funeral march runs the hearse.

Wooden, carved cover of your coffin, hiding the secret of your body.

Pale, hardened, sculpture, it is all you are ,  you’re not what you used to be.

Death hides the face of happiness!

Behold ! The church bell now rings more vigorously.

Towards  the tomb, wind carries introduced leaves and flowers.

Silk, purple fabric ,wrinkles hide.

What under the black pan, from glory into darkness is poured over.

Not even your lightweight shoes, never set foot on earth,

it’s like your last resting place, they were waiting.

Death has a face of happiness!

When the mortal costume rots,

when, death, skin and flesh from every courpse  peels away ,

then the bones will reveal the secret of their own, which we have never seen in our lives,

because it was hidden, with frowning and expressions.

Man’s bones at the scene of the skull, are always smiling.



In death, man, will never stop smiling!


Martina Rimbaldo was born 29 years ago , lives and works in Croatia, a small country placed in central  Europe. She enjoys reading, writing and painting.

 Tina also (over)thinks specially  about death, what some people find morbid but not her, it is a part of life too. One of her goals are  to be a good person and to publish her own poetry book. She is a cat person. Her work is  published in Nightingale &Sparrow, Oddball Magazine, The sage cigarette magazine,, Thruly you, The Street Light press, Dark Elements, The Elixir, Six word stories, Poems, and Poezija noći, websites, Kvaka website and her artwork is published at weekly blog of Royal Rose Magazine, her photographs are published in Bleached Butterfly, The Remenant, Open arts forum, and Anti heroin chic. 

Monster #1 – Video by Joas Nebe

Adorably Horror Series – Joas Nebe


(4k/HD single channel video, color, 1m23s excerpt)

Monsters are haunting us. (The more the better, the more the more contemporary).
Monsters have faces like us.
Monsters are behaving like humans.
Monsters are everywhere, monsters are us without soul.
Monsters make us move and continue.
Monsters are progress.
Monsters are economical progress.
Because monsters are haunting us into the future.
Without monsters we are nothing.
Without monsters and demons we should stop trying anything.


Gaming into Mindfulness  

Interview with Joas Nebe by Rebecca Schoensee (excerpt) 

“It’s a never-ending game of disintegration. I challenge the viewer  by not living up to his or her expectations. I am denying the  satisfaction of solving the riddle, hidden within the depth of my  artwork.” By turning his filmic cabinet of curiosity into an  intriguing jigsaw puzzle of hybrid geometric patterns, Joas Nebe  teases the viewer into accessing his game. He believes: “Riddle  games of this kind spark creativity and pass on the role of the  artist to the viewer.” 

Taking the Reason Prisoner 

To Nebe, “fantasy and creative intelligence are important survival  skills today.” So is chess, an analogy he keeps referring to: “Chess  exemplifies my game with the viewer. In a world of shortening  attention spans, it’s an ideal concentration-practice. One always  has to think a few steps in advance.” By screening the insanity of  our daily chase towards evolutionary bankruptcy, Nebe in a clever  move takes the reason prisoner, only to appoint reason to be the  king of his game of chess. He calls for a close review of the  encyclopedia of our philosophical and cultural foundations. In his  opinion reason has the potential to direct a path away from the  horror vacui he is depicting: “The model of enlightenment has  increasingly been discredited, wrongfully I believe. Today survival  and coexistence are only possible if governed by the faculty of  reason. Labeling and connoting intellectual categories help to bring  new relations into sight and to gain unexpected terms of knowledge.” 

The interview essay “Gaming Into Mindfulness” has been published in  Humanize Magazine, issue 11, p. 20-31. 


Joas Nebe, who holds degrees in psychology and literature, is a self  taught artist, born in Hamburg but now located in South Germany.  After a few years in Berlin he decided three years ago to move south  close to the French and Swiss border. Important exhibits include the  artist´s “Climate Change Cartoons“ on display on exhibition  “Letters from the Sky” which accompanied the Durban UN conference on  Climate Change 2011 in South Africa and “Machine Fair”- a film about  the mechanical site of a metropolis- shown at Museum of Modern Art,  Moscow as part of “Now&After” screening in 2012. Other film works 

has been shown at 25th Festival Les Instants Video (Biblioteca  Alexandrina, Cairo), Videoformes Festival 2014 and 2015, Sustain Our  Africa, Madatac 3, 4, 5, 6 Competitive Official International  Selection (Madrid), Papy Gyros Nights 2016 Hong Kong/ ART_TECTURE,  In 24hours: Future Visions (SHIFT:ibpcpa) 2020, just to name a few.  

Solo shows are “Intrude Art and Life” at the Museum of Modern Art,  Shanghai in 2008, where Santiago Capriccio, a short epilogue to the  Philosophical Cartoon cycle was chosen to be one out of 100 non Chinese artists to be displayed on public video screens in Shanghai  for one day, 2016 “Encyclopedic”, a one night solo show at The  Greenhouse, Berlin, 2016, “You Did A Bad Thing For A Good Reason”,  solo show at Berlin´s Cormac Weiss Gallery, curated by Marinus Jo  Dimitrov IFEA (International Curatorial Award 2016) supported by  Christopher Grape Fund; 2017 “On Nature” at 16:9 Gallery, UTCL, USA  curated by Manzi Yang, 2020 The Palace Project, Online Fine Arts  Museum, Argentine. 

2017 Joas Nebe received a M 5 ARTS stipend for his video work “The  Dictionary serial” (USA). 2017 he has been awarded with the  Residency by Correspondence from The Arts Territory Exchange  Program, 2018 with the Social Media Residency by Peripheral Forms,  the Online Residency by Coldbench (all UK), the Social Media  Residency by Open Call Artists by @boykeats/ Lu Gallagher (2020) and  ECUMENE Residence (2020). 

Joas Nebe ́s curatorial works have been shown in different European  countries. He developed three projects to which international video  artists contributed. “The Encyclopedic Cartoons Video Project” had  it ́s premiere in Berlin and has been shown since in many European  countries. His second curatorial work “the Proverb Picture Project”  again with participating artist from different continents and  countries had it´ s premiere on VisualContainer TV in 2014. 2017  Joas Nebe developed a project about democracy, scrabble and  wordlists, called “The Democracy Scrabble Project”, had it´s  premiere again on VisualContainer TV and (.BOX) Video Project Room,  Milan in 2018. 


Halloween, 11:17 p.m. – Poem by Adrian Slonaker

Adorably Horror Series – Adrian Slonaker

Halloween, 11:17 p.m.

His maddening muskiness
mixes with that pumpkin spice scent
I’ve been wearing for weeks
as he nips at my neck
like the next Bela Lugosi.
His balalaika-calloused fingers bend
my left arm back on shiny satin sheets
whiter than raita and the
gauzy ghosts lining lawns tonight
while Jamie Lee Curtis’s screams
streaming from the TV
repeating the Halloween canon
harmonize with the
traffic and rain beyond the bay window
and the cadence of my candy corn breath,
swelling into a soundtrack
to expand the sweetness of
this spit-spattered Samhain.


 Language boffin and lifelong Halloween fan Adrian Slonaker hangs out among the drizzly streets and autumn leaves of downtown Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada. Adrian’s work, which has been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize, has appeared in WINK: Writers in the Know, The Be Zine, Gnashing Teeth, The Pangolin Review and others. 

Just Try Counting Sheep – Poem by Danny Best

Adorably Horror Series


Danny is a retired Professional Cook and Truck Driver (5 state area) and is currently working on creating an entirely new career for himself as a Poet/Write & Actor (having portrayed an auto shop owner/mechanic in the short film, “Your Carriage Awaits” and is slated to portray the character of Randall Sutto in the up coming production of the “Cracked Mirrors” Episode/s).

                Danny considers poetry a great opportunity to communicate and connect with all kindred souls/spirits in a more personal manner to share some good old practical food for thought while also encouraging readers to journey beyond their own comfort zones and explore other subject matter, thoughts and things.

                In his words; I usually write from the various memories of my own life lessons and experiences, and what dream remnants I may glean from amongst the disheveled peaks and valleys of my somewhat threadbare cotton pillow cases.