Jack Wayne Arnett
Bio
I enjoy writing in many genres. My favorite is horror, but I also enjoy poetry, romance and military life. I love the challenge of writing outside my comfort zone as a challenge. I live in Riverside, California and have 5 daughters.
Stories (25/0)
Cruelest Master
Tok tick turn back the clock. Tok tick send me back. Cruelest master time, is love such a crime? You take it all and give none back. All I want is one more day to say I love you one last time. The hour chimes near til the day we can hear the reapers calling. Turn back time I cry! Just another day. Time makes you forget, makes you cover the pain. A long lost lover you could barely recover. Would one more day make me recover or one more day to burn in the loss of what was perfection. This loss is no just cause. Strikes down the whole human race. Running in place but losing the race. We cannot win, for time.... Is the cruelest master.
By Jack Wayne Arnett4 years ago in Poets
Insanity
The fires streak to heaven and fields burn. The earth trembles and man’s lesson is learned. Skies light is a funeral pyre and man’s fate is like a quagmire. Brilliant sounds of alarms as chaos reigns, from up above the hell it rains. Panic stricken run for cover, this is no time to love one another. The beast awoke and death it stroke, the rubble and smoke makes me choke. How could we provoke so many words misspoke? There is no cover and this end to come. Death from above, at least we strike back, assured mutual destruction no one will win. We die with the sin of so many souls taken, mankind is forsaken. A brilliant flash, avert my eyes. Skin burns so hot I nearly forgot. Fall down houses of cards the hot wind blows. Cry out in vain, wreak havoc in pain. I steal one last breath as I lay skyward. My last vision of life like a steel cold knife, the fiery boom of a mushroom cloud. I hope both sides are proud as I try to scream so loud. Within a blink life fades, no more pain. All mankind has gone insane.
By Jack Wayne Arnett4 years ago in Poets
The old Clock Maker
The old clock maker at his dusty old table stares at his masterpiece but finds no measure of joy. Twisted gnarled worked hands shake as he works in a deliberate fervor. Time to the old man is not for him to enjoy. All family, friends and acquaintances are not so permanent. A cold tool fumbles from his grip and crashes to the floor followed by yet another solemn tear. The passing of yet another year. All he ever loved is gone, no one will ever love the quiet clock master again. Foolishly he turns the hands of time backward with just a glimmer of hope that he will yet love again. He will run again and feel the warm sun upon his skin just one more time. But instead he feels the hardened wrench of reality. Time ticks on and the old man lowers his eyes to rest for just a moment. The broken clock begins to tick just as his heart quiets its tireless rhythms. Into memory he goes as the clock ticks away and no cause for all past glories. Left without surrender and no will left to fight. A fall to the ground, no salutes to the old man who would surrender. Now there is no one left to remember. Another passing ship in the darkest November.
By Jack Wayne Arnett4 years ago in Poets
Compelled
Mesmerizing colors of autumn twilight break rays of the dying light upon the entry way. Standing before the majesty of a grand stairway that lingers up twisted dark wood rails stands a solemn figure. No words spoken, just the cold gaze from under old overgrown eyebrows from the figure draped in old grey robes. Stepping at a pace with steady reserve I find a cold steel chill run through me. The old oaken door creeks closed behind me as a faint sound of a bell chimes in the recesses of the upper landing.
By Jack Wayne Arnett4 years ago in Horror
Him and Her
Him: Take my hand and don’t be afraid my dear. Soon we will live together forever in eternity. Like Bonnie and Clyde, it only takes a step and we fly. Don’t fear what’s to come. Come fly with me and we will live forever just you and I. No more pain, no more stares. Like the candle to the wind, life passes and we will be together.
By Jack Wayne Arnett4 years ago in Poets
Disappeared
We hear the heartbeat, passed away into the missing nights. Cold heart took away the hands and stretched time. Swollen eyes as mothers tears come like a rainfall. Red light glows a fireside memory, father weeps no time to cry. Desperate days searching for that heartbeat so faint to hear. Stolen future of a namesake and love to come, the deed can never be undone. Mothers joy for life torn away comes down like a heavy rain. We can't see her tears in the rainfall. Cry out loud their pain crushes. The child of the disappeared hides the heartbeat bound in love. Its silence now fades the hearts of the chosen few. Cry now beloved. For the mother of the disappeared will never heal the break. For gods sake hear the heartbeat.
By Jack Wayne Arnett4 years ago in Poets