Thank you

My dearest followers, I know it’s been a long time since I’ve made a post and for that I deeply apologize. In November when I was at HorrorHound convention in Cincinnati, Ohio with my best friend Benjamin Rogers and his publisher Dr. Pus of the Library of the Living Dead. I was taking a break, writing some poetry in my journal when Ben showed Doc my latest madness. Doc loved it and asked for my work to publish. I have been deeply involved in getting my first book deal completed. I am happy to announce that Poetry From Beyond the Mist will be out very soon!

To go with my new book, I have a new website. I would love to have you all come over and continue to follow me and enjoy your support. Please go to www.elizabethlafond.com and bookmark that page to get my latest updates.

I want to thank each and every one of you for commenting and following my work as I have begun to grow and blossom. I hope to see you all over there as I continue on my journey through the darkest corridors of my mind.

Death of Life

Children laughter calls

Happiness of light

Playful young dancing

My heart sings

 

Sitting on my perch

Joy soul filling

Tag in tall grass

Innocence warmth pure

 

Swing from a tree

Limbs climb branches

Mothers share shade

Carefree simple days

 

Blink find now gray

Summer fades away

No colorful fall leaves

From bright to bleak

 

Warmth now frozen

Trees now bare

Cold creeps in

Emptiness reigns

 

Hollow halls quiet

No one left roams

Sobs of the silent

Death of life

 

Faces

Why bother? There is no one left. You look around and see faces everywhere around, but the eyes are empty. Not even hate or anger sparks there. It’s not zombies, it is worse.
I’ve walked the mall, where there is normally the bustle of life. The old couple who would walk hand in hand, seeing the years of love between them as he holds a door for her. The young mother who is at her wits end because her baby won’t stop crying and her young child sit there screaming about some toy. The uncaring attitudes painted on the group of teenagers with the spiked colored hair, heavy makeup, and baggy clothes. Even the cheerleaders and football players that stand across the way and laugh and point at those they don’t understand. All the faces are there, but the eyes are hollow, nothing remains of the people they were.
I walked the neighborhoods. The places that children would play in the yards, their puppies full of energy and life would nip and roll with them. The mothers would gather on the porches laughing and sipping tea as they watch over their young. Fathers would mow the lawns and tend to the repairs on their homes. Now all is gone, tools abandoned, rocking chairs are still, but the faces are there, no life in the eyes, nothing left there.
I walked the beach where beauties would lay and bathe in the sun. Games of volleyball would go on for hours. The man at the stand would sell lemonade and hot dogs. Parents would take their little ones to play in the wake of the ocean and build sandcastles nearby. Now the water comes and slowly pulls it all away, only the faces remain eyes unblinking, a never ending stare.
There are no zombies here, no monsters, and no life. No breeze that stirs, the air has gone stale. Just a sea of faces all around, eyes staring blankly at nothing. No sparks of humanity, no words are spoken, no work getting done, no fun to be had. If I turn and look in the mirror at all, will I see the same blank face and empty eyes? Or will I be all that is left of life?

Filled

Sometimes I just don’t understand life.  There are these days,  when there really isn’t a whole lot keeping me busy, and my mind goes off to that dark place that isn’t as warm and comforting as it once was.  It feels like there is this hole inside of me that is missing something, but I am still lost as to what.   Maybe I’ve always been lost.

I went to class like normal, paid attention, turned in my work, passed my tests.  It felt as if I was just going through the motions, like it was all just show, no substance.  I came home and did my chores and my assignments for the next day.  Sat at the table and had dinner alone, mom was off at her night job again.  The phone didn’t ring; no one came to the door.  I just sat there staring off into space, not lonely, just lost.

I took the dog for a walk and saw Jonie, she prattled on about Bobbie, the new boy in town and how dreamy he was.  I smiled and giggle with her for a while, it felt hollow, but she didn’t seem to notice.  After a bit I continued on down the street to the beach at the end.  Sammy, my pup, loved running on the beach, so I set him free off his leash while I sat down in the sand to watch the ocean and the sunset.

There is no place that had sunsets like our town.  The ocean was a deep crystal blue, and the sun would turn oranges and reds like a fireball.  For a few moments, just as the sun touched the horizon, it was as if the ocean was liquid fire, everything blazing with color and beauty.  For a minute, I swear I can hear angels singing with the glory of it all, even Sammy sat down next to me and was still and quiet.  The warmth that radiated from the water, a salty breeze caresses my face, the signing filled my mind.  It was as if this was a moment God was giving us a private preview of his true self.  So bright it was painful to watch, but the beauty captured you and you didn’t want to look away.  My heart soared.

As the last bit of fire dipped beyond the horizon, I stood up and took Sammy home.  Taking a quick shower, I dressed for bed, taking my medication, and hoping that the feeling of peace wouldn’t leave my soul before the next day came to do it all over again.  Waiting for that moment, when I could feel filled again.

Death

Another hole filled

The dirt cold

A stone marks the place

My soul lies cold

 

The preacher came

Ashes and dust

People came people left

Your headstone my pillow

 

The rain came

Angels tears shed

Weeping showers freshen

The white rose blooms

 

Another dawn begins

Sun lit bath

Curled up alone

Lost without you

Things have been a whirlwind for me.  Between the divorce and work and race season preparations and being found by my high school sweet heart to falling in love all over again to moving to….well, let’s just say things have been non stop.  Sadly that put my writing on the back burner, don’t get me wrong, I have gotten some done, just not as much as I’d like.  I have been deep into the bowels of my own zombie horror novel.

Through all of this I got the most amazing news.  My very good friend and writing mentor Benjamin Rogers has been tolling away the wee hours of candle light finishing his novel. It is the first of a trilogy and will now be published and released this summer. It is my honor and privilege to be called his friend and student. I encourage all of you to check out his trilogy blog and enjoy his sneak peek into the mind of a true spell binding master. Check out Benjamin Rogers in

Night

Vast chasm engulfs
Snow falling softly
Silence deafening
Cold

Emptiness surrounds
Another stitch gone
Crimson blood falls
Pain

Another wound open
Fresh raw scar
Voices from below
Memories

Life fades away
Abyss pulls in
Death stands near
Fight

Blood stained snow
Rivers flow down
Chasm swallows
Breathe

Death grows distant
Clouds part
Moon shines
Faith

My Fairytale

Having just been through a disillusion with my husband of ten years, life has been nothing but chaos for the past month. We have parted on good terms and in fact we are still good friends. Both of us moved the weekend before Christmas and spent the last two weeks of the year cleaning our apartment to turn in the keys on the last day of the year. I really couldn’t have picked a better time of year to add this level of insanity to our lives. 

The last thing I am looking for now is a relationship or hooking up with anyone. I need some down time to myself to regroup and rebuild my life, getting the chance to work on my true passion, writing. I was talking with one of the girls at work about white knights in shining armor and it made me wonder, what would my version of a “white knight” be?

First of all there’s no such thing as fairy tale endings.  Happily ever after involves chainsaws and zombie modified shot guns. Heck, if I could choose the way I go out in the end, it would be a big greasy spot at the race track. Race cars on a road course racing being my only other passion in life. The smell of burning rubber and the octane just does something to me. Sometimes I think I must have come out of the womb with my foot on the gas and the rearview mirror torn off.

On that note, there would be no white steed for me.  For me, I am into classic cars and hot rods, all old school for this girl.  Now this is really nice, a 1967 Pontiac GTO Goat 389 

She is a beauty for sure, but not the something I am feeling today.  So I thought some more, what kind of car can handle my moodiness and take me where I need to go?  You know those days, when you want to burn it all up?

While nice, a drag car isn’t going to do either, I need something that has character.  There is always the fun little chop jobs,

after all this one has the flames I feel and it can go, but still, something is just not right.  So I started thinking about motorcycles.  Yeah, I’m a biker fanatic as well.  I even found my perfect one.

 

Oh yeah, I could sit back and enjoy the freedom that only bikers understand. 

They are all great choices, and a lot of fun.  I this is my chariot, my trusty stallion that carries me off into the sunset.   It has to have room for me to store everything I need from my notebook and pen for writing to my zombie slaying weapons.  At the same time it needs to growl and do the job I need it to.  Protect me from zombies like the Army does.

I’m a classic lover though, and a girl like me needs a trusty steed that gets her through all the times ahead.  Will you be surprised to find it is a 1971 dark charcoal and gunmetal Nova SS?

 

Oh yes, that makes the sky open up, the sun come out, and the angels sing for me. 

What about the white knight you ask?  Well, I’m at a point right now in my life where I just need the sound of my eight ponies under the hood and a long dusty road.  Who needs fairytales of white knights and princesses, give me a mean hot rod loaded down, ready to go, rearview mirror torn off.  Now I’m ready to take on the apocalypse!

New Year Nightmare

The New Year has rung in, again.  What was once a town crowded with party goer’s is now desolate.  No streamers and glitter, only blood spattered buildings and corpses.  Champagne and perfume replaced with death and horror.  Sitting here on my perch, I remember being here when it was full of life.  Dancing and laughter filled fun, peace on Earth and goodwill towards men.  I snort at the thought.  The moment the ball dropped five years ago and unleashed the undead hoard into the masses, life has been nothing but wars, pillaging, raping, and death.

The ash from my stale cigarette falls to the ground and I rub my eyes with the weariness that never seems to leave my body now.  Her bright face flashes before my eyes as the memory haunts me as if it were just last night.  The beautiful blonde hair flowing around her face, the light snow that fell and trapped in her curls.  The way the lights glinted off it made her already breath taking exquisiteness surreal.  Her eyes were the green color of the sea and her lips were ripe cherries plucked from their tree.  Her laughter was the sound of angel’s wings brushing your heart, stealing your breath in awe.

I had spent months looking for the perfect ring, going to all the major stores, most expensive pieces, but no one had anything that was right for her.  One afternoon I stumbled upon this little shop off to the side of town, no fancy signs or advertising, just a small brown building with writing in the window that said Mama’s Place.  I had never seen it before, but something drove me inside.  There was a couple that was well along in their years who I came to discover were from the old country.  I wound up spending hours with them talking that day, telling them about her.  The man smiled and patted his wife’s hand as he went into a back room.  When he came back he produced a small sea green velvet box, one that almost matched her eyes.  Inside was the most perfect ring I had ever seen.  It was nothing fancy, just a small gold band with three simple stones that were the most clear diamonds I had ever seen.  The man explained it was his great great grandfather’s ring, and had many centuries of true happiness and love behind it.  He told me it was $100, I tried arguing that I couldn’t possibly buy his family heirloom, but his wife would hear none of it.  True happiness comes with no price and no bounds.

That night I had taken my love to town to enjoy the festivities.  We had laughed and danced with the other people filling the streets.  Everything was perfect, I knew the moment was right and I pulled out the ring getting down on my knee to ask her to be my wife.  Tears fell from her eyes as people stood around clapping and cheering when she said yes.  I had picked her up and swung her around kissing her as the ball dropped to ring in the most perfect moment of my life, and when my nightmare began.

Before any of us truly understood what was going on, a mass of undead ripped into the crowds feasting on all the warm bodies.  I had been in so much bliss that I never heard anything until they tore her from my arms and chewed her throat out, spraying me in her warm blood turning me into the icy mess I have become.  How I survived that night when they ripped out her heart and jammed it into their mouths, I still don’t know.  Her terror ridden face as she died reaching for me still tears through me like a million knives that shred me apart.  Somehow though, I am still here, holed up inside of Mama’s Place, the sweet old couple long gone.  When I stumbled in here, they were curled up on the couch in each other’s arms, peaceful and natural.  No one tore out their hearts, they died naturally of old age and love.

I put her ring back into my pocket where it has stayed since that dreadful night.  Spitting out the bad taste in my mouth, I look out the window again at the moon filled night.  There are thousands of them out there, those monsters, roaming the streets in search of flesh and blood.  There really is nothing left for me, but still I fight to survive.  I know I cannot give up, I have to see my angel.

Nothing

My dungeon of emptiness surrounds
No escape with doors
No sight with glass
A black hole of comfort

No laughter nor gladness
No tears nor sadness
No smiles to brighten
No hugs to hide in

Alone with the darkness
No rats to call friend
Dampness the only blanket
Even death won’t come in

No hate nor pain
No sunshine or rain
Only black nothing
To seal the fate