Mark Cantrell, Author

For an eclectic mix of science fiction, fantasy and a touch of horror...


POEM: When Old Words Weigh Heavy

Posted by Mark Cantrell on May 22, 2016 at 7:35 PM Comments comments (0)

Dust Me Down

By Mark Cantrell


I feel like the living



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POEM: Concerns & Wishful Thinking Fade Like Vanity In Time

Posted by Mark Cantrell on December 28, 2015 at 5:15 PM Comments comments (0)


By Mark Cantrell


When I was young,

I longed to be older.

When I was old,

I yearned to be younger.

As a child,

I wondered what it was like

To be a grown up.

As a grown up, I struggled

To remember w...

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POEM: Surfing The Event Horizon Of Time

Posted by Mark Cantrell on September 13, 2015 at 8:10 AM Comments comments (0)

In Depth

By Mark Cantrell

Down there,

Deep, deep

Beneath my feet,

Where I stand on the edge,


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POEM: At That Cynical Age

Posted by Mark Cantrell on August 22, 2015 at 6:45 AM Comments comments (0)

Beneath This Crusty Visage

By Mark Cantrell

Beneath the crust

Of cynicism,

Burns bright – still – the furnace

Of youth...

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POEM: Time Waits For No Mortality

Posted by Mark Cantrell on June 21, 2015 at 8:20 AM Comments comments (0)

Ocean Of Time

By Mark Cantrell


In the crushing depths,

Slow-motion plunge

Into the dark unknown,

The pressure squeezes,

Bones, and muscles, lungs

And brain; perception freezing

In the drowning force.

Below, waiting,

The Abyss,

Shadow mouth open,

Ready to swallow

This sun-...

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POEM: Don't Spill It!

Posted by Mark Cantrell on June 13, 2015 at 9:05 AM Comments comments (0)

The Cup Of It

By Mark Cantrell

Half full you say?


That cup is empty,

For I have supped deep

Of the bitter brew of life,

Down to the very


Until nothing but the froth

And suds still cling to that cup’s

Rim and sides.

I might lick them, you may say,

Taste but one lingering afterthought

Of living’s liquor,

Before the suds congeal and d...

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POEM: Colourful Yorkshire

Posted by Mark Cantrell on May 31, 2015 at 8:45 AM Comments comments (0)

White Rose Folk

By Mark Cantrell


 Yorkshire's rose is white;

White on blue,

That's the flag.

But Yorkshire folk

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POEM: Grave Attraction

Posted by Mark Cantrell on May 17, 2015 at 5:50 AM Comments comments (0)


By Mark Cantrell

A graveyard

Is such a depressing,

Delusive place.

All that space

Wasted on the dead.

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POEM: Age Has No Meaning

Posted by Mark Cantrell on April 19, 2015 at 8:40 AM Comments comments (0)

Age Less

By Mark Cantrell


Old... old, you say?

You call me old,


Young sperm,

Still wet behind the flagellum,

Bathed still in the

Seminal fluid of a rise to blinking

Vapid, consciousness?

I shall tell you, tender shoot,

I am not old,

But ancient,

So ancient indeed that beyond

Time and measure

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POEM: Bad Luck Vampire

Posted by Mark Cantrell on March 21, 2015 at 8:05 PM Comments comments (0)

Vampire Love

By Mark Cantrell

Love's a bitch

For Vampire Man,

Every time

He meets his Queen,

Cupid's Arrow

Stakes his heart,

Crumbling ...

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POEM: A Shade Of Photo-Chemical Amnesiac

Posted by Mark Cantrell on March 7, 2015 at 1:55 PM Comments comments (0)

Photo Montage

By Mark Cantrell

Old photographs

Show moments of time frozen,

A window, from where faces of history

Can stare unknowing at the present.

Their time has gone.

Their ...

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POEM: Dressing Things Up

Posted by Mark Cantrell on February 26, 2015 at 9:40 AM Comments comments (0)

Cut From A Cloth Less Bland

By Mark Cantrell


Is ever so sartorial,

Don’t you think?

The way it’s worn cuts such a dash,

In the fine rush to catch



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