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    Why buy flowers that fade?
    A sonnet lasts forever!
  • Brief Bio

    Lester Smith is a 2-term past president of the WFOP, a 4-time Origins-winning game designer, and a former JavaScript teacher for the HWG. He works days as a Writer/Technologist for the educational publishing house Sebranek Inc, nights and weekends as president of Popcorn Press.

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  • Fanged Smiley D6xD6 Doubledice

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    days to go

    Back This Project
  • D6xD6 RPG

    Role-play in your favorite authors' worlds! Automatic 5% preorder discount.

  • Fencing Poker Deck

  • Other Card Games…

    Monster Con card game
    Invasion of the Saucer People card game
    Wolf Man's Curse card game
  • Suggested Reading

  • Undying Games

    Dark Conspiracy roleplaying game
    now by 3Hombres
    Dragon Dice game
    now by SFR Inc.
  • Cons I’m Attending

  • Poetry

    George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron ByronIn 1985, a British Romantic Period Literature class changed my life. The poetry of Byron, Shelley, and Keats wakened in me a passion for writing. I determined to somehow make a career of it—and somehow feed my children.

    Since then I’ve worked exclusively in publishing, first for game companies, now in education. I also continue to write, study, and promote poetry. It’s my opinion that poetry used to belong to the people, until academics stole it. It’s high time to steal it back from them.

    A Last Peek: For Halloween

    Lester : October 31, 2012 12:53 pm : Announcements, Poetry, Popcorn Press

    Happy Halloween! Popcorn Press‘s annual month-long party ends today within the pages of Cthulhu Haiku and Other Mythos Madness. Here’s one last preview—a masterful poem by Michael Fantina—to provide an idea of what lurks inside, waiting just for you.


    On islands where the sun is masked,
    Where only gauzy ghosts are drawn,
    In dreams I’m there and somehow tasked
    To mark its skies of cinnamon.

    Upon its shore strong vines there clasp
    An inlaid chest whose oak is wan,
    With only one frail rusty hasp,
    Shaped like a long-necked crimson swan.

    With ease the ancient hasp I break,
    To find a tome that sports thereon
    A crafty coiling silver snake,
    With this word: Necronomicon.

    My eyes transfixed I stare and stare
    I turn its leaves of thin chiffon,
    They’ve weathered well the stagnant air
    Coated with basilicon.

    Before me now the wyvern’s kiss
    Soon coaxed me toward her nameless spawn,

    I prayed to leave that black abyss,
    To Mithra, Ra, Bellerophon.

    My fingers turn, yet hesitate,
    These pages printed in Oman,
    more »

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    The Bride

    Lester : October 29, 2012 6:00 am : Announcements, Poetry

    With borrowed hands, she slowly weaves a braid
    into her borrowed hair, a different breed
    still from her face, her breasts, this pallid bride
    to be, this patchwork woman child whose borrowed
    womb will someday bear the Monster’s brood.

    —Lester Smith


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    One Night (A Halloween Poem)

    Lester : October 27, 2012 11:38 am : Poetry

    Outside the castle walls, some beastie bayed.
    Down Clancy’s clammy brow a frigid bead
    of sweat ran. Aunt Mae’s will said he must bide
    one night inside to win it. A wall bowed
    with facial features—he fled—Aunt Mae boo’ed.

    —Lester Smith

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