My poetry ebook, Songs of the Dead

As part of Read an E-Book Week, I’ll be featuring ebooks here on this blog. Two of them will be my own ebooks, but I’ll be sure to include some others. The books featured here are only available as ebooks and not in print format as well. It’s my way of staying true to promoting actual ebooks during Read an E-Book Week!

First up is my dark and horror poetry collection, Songs of the Dead.

Songs of the Dead: A Collection of Dark and Horror Poems

By Dawn Colclasure

Gypsy Shadow Publishing, 2010

Ebook, 55 ppg.

Link

Synopsis:

Dawn Colclasure’s dark poetry collection, Songs of the Dead (formerly named Topiary Dreams), is not only dark, but passionate. Anger, fear, hurt and betrayal run under the skin of this work and shine through especially bright in poems such as No Turning Back, Deep Within and I am Madness. Colclasure examines the dark side of human nature; murder, drug use, violence, insanity and isolation. But, beyond the tales of death and darkness there’s also a message of empowerment; the voice of someone who has taken too much, for too long and has finally had enough.

Songs of the Dead is a re-release of the chapbook originally published in 2003 and with more than twenty-seven new poems; it has more than earned the title “expanded”. Colclasure has a flair for prose, with lines such as “walk on the moon and hear the stars breathe,” (from Death Shows my Pain) and different poetry forms stop the reader from falling into a sing song rhythm of sameness and help to keep the collection fresh and interesting, page after page.

Excerpt:

Plots in Darkness

We are the children that die in your dreams.
We are the visions you see in your screams.
We are the products of disease and despair.
We are the pain . . . you pretend isn't there.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
I'm getting so sick of this monster inside.
The voices are screaming so loud in my head.
Sometimes I find myself . . . wishing I'm dead.

Open your eyes, plug up your ears.
It's time to face all your worst fears.
Inside I am bleeding with blood turning black.
And yet I still know . . . it will always come back.

The days, they grow darker. The nights are so cold.
We're zombies that carry burdens so old.
Tortured. Rejected. We call no place our home.
We're dead to this world . . . wherever we roam.

Our plots are in darkness wherever we roam.