I, the prisoner, long for the smallest drop
Of water, the thinnest ray of light but
Instead I lay among the damned, eternal
Suffering my wages, the weeping of millions
The song of time. You see the beauty, the statue
Of David, but you play the fool for this is
Ashes forever entombed in a façade of weak
Plaster cast. I wish for winter to turn to
Spring, for the seedlings to be born of ice and
Snow. I wish for the life-giving light to bring
Forth all that is holy. All is predestined.
We are fools to ask for more. Death will
Come on swift wings, I know not the path
Through the dark forest for there is no light.
I lack the grace or the wisdom to see
The pathway ahead of me. There is no ivory
Tower, no eye of God, no eternal life.
I have paved the road with the blood of the
Innocent and the tears of the worthy. I have
Torn the eyes from my head & I cannot see
My way from Gahenna, the burning pits of
Suffering. I shall stumble and fall. An eternal
Wanderer of the wasteland.
Remove my cursed existence. Cast
Me into the furnace. Commence my judgement.
She spreads here fingers
And a burning fever sweeps my floor.
My alarm clock
Is a slap in the face.
Her smiling face is overwhelming.
The whales seek the oceans of ice.
The lizards scurry over a rock
Warming themselves with fire and whiskey.
A tuba and a bullhead
Burned to a golden brown.
Metal music frames the bowl,
The race across the floor.
Welcome to the harbor
That holds birds but no ship.
The needle of the weaver
The sentinel of Death.
The trees that whisper
The secrets of the world.
Dead horses drink from green rivers,
And bees dig for precious stones.
The burning bird, it sings a song,
The birds of mourning, they fill my yard.
The dutchman’s purse is hidden still.
I seek the gold of natives.
Deep within the mental chamber
Far away from inner anger
Lies the seed of crimson hope
The sleeping thing that helps me cope.
Far and away and yet so near
Is that which will calm my fears.
Gentle hands and piercing eyes
Grow the seed in soil lies.
A life of strife and debauchery
Earns me pain of which I flee.
I look at them and look away.
Within the chamber I will stay.
Within the chamber out of sight.
Outer darkness without light.
Without love or gentle touch.
By my sins, I give up much.
My punishment is justified.
Found guilty, I was tried.
Jar of hearts and bloody tears.
My heart in glass encased for years.
Living lies and smashing love
Every touch was not enough.
Taking much and giving nothing back.
Tally marks atop a stack.
So in pain I live alone
Darkest chamber where I groan.
Hearts of ash on cinder walls
In my head, the ghost will call.
Justice divine, the girl is gone.
Away to Summerland where she belongs.
And so I wander the Earth in vain.
Trying to love and feel again.
My punishment is justified.
My burning heart in oil fried.
I wander the Earth my heart in vain,
To know I will never feel again
The love that removes a burning stain.
11/08/14
“If a man is a beast, he’s a beast in his heart, and that’s not the kind of heart that beats in you.”
“Innocence” Dean Koontz, Page 59
How do you describe a Rottweiler?
Big, sloppy, and stupid would be a good start.
You ever look one in the eye?
The Macintosh burned out killing the hamster.
The only other comparison would be the Cleveland Browns.
05/27/12
How many times have I seen worlds of chaos?
How many times have I dripped the poison of
Many into my veins as bionic butterflies
And acid-addicted antelope run and frolick?
I relish my days among the sugar-sweet slurry
Slag.
A squirrel sits on my knee. How big your teeth are,
Little squirrel. Are you nuts, also?
Waterfalls of sugar cane turn to a quagmire of
Molten lead. The squirrel becomes a nightmare.
I turn and try to run away “come and play”,
Say the singing fish. “Don’t run away”, sys
The deer.
I crawl into my hidey hole and embrace my
Carnal fear.
03/17/12
“I was capable of love, but I lived in solitude after father died. Therefore, I loved only the precious dead, and books, and the moments of great beauty with which the city surprised me from tie to time, as I pushed through it in utmost secrecy.
For instance, sometimes on clear nights, in the solemn hour when most of the city sleeps when the cleaning crews are finished and the high-rises darkle until dawn, the stars come out. They are not as bright over this metropolis as they must be over a Kansas plain or a Colorado mountain but they still shine as if there is a city in the sky, an enchanting place where I could walk the streets with no fear of fire, where I could find someone to love, who would love me.
Here, when I was seen, my capacity for love earned me no mercy. Quite the opposite. When they saw me, men and women alive recoiled but their fear quickly gave way to fury. I would not harm them to defend myself, and I remained therefore defenseless.”
“Innocence”, Dean Koontz, Page 6
“Perhaps those who lived in the open would have found the idea of an invisible world too fanciful and would have dismisses the notion.
Those of us who remain hidden from everyone else, however, know that this world is wondrous and filled with mysteries. We possess no magical perception, no psychic insight. I believe our recognition of reality’s complex dimensions in a consequence of our solitude.
To live in the city of crowds and traffic and constant noise, to be always striving, to be in the ceaseless competition for money and status and power, perhaps distracted the mind until it could no longer see and forgot the all that that is. Or may be, because of the pace and pressure of that life, sanity depended on blinding oneself to the manifold miracles, astonishments, wonders, and enigmas that comprised the true world.
When I said ‘those of us who remain hidden’, I should have instead have said ‘I who am hidden.’ As far as I was aware, no other like me existed in that metropolis. I had lived along for a long time.
For twelve years, I shared this deep redoubt with Father. He died six years earlier. I loved him. I missed him every day. I was now twenty-six, with perhaps a long, lonely life ahead of me.”
“Innocence” Dean Koontz, Page 7
For as long as I can remember,
I have wandered the world,
Crawling from port to port,
Bed to bed. Alleyways to doorways.
But, my ship is a jewel.
I carry the scars and scratches
Of countless dockings.
Of infinite moons seen by jaded eyes.
The winds have carried me
Into the life of Odysseus.
My brood of swine squealing
Their cried of desperation.
The storms and infinite days
The oblivion,
They have weathered my true face,
The one behind my eyes,
The eyes of beauty you see
In the faded mirror.
Dorian Grey is my name
Though no artist will dare
Paint my face.
And so Odysseus again and again
Leaves my cursed shore
To sail into the infinite sea
That comes and goes with the tides.
As does the memory of a thousand years filled with
The tears of swine.
I envy you and your smile,
Your love you share with the worthy.
Envy I exact on the shards of mirror
That litter my floor like shells
Of the long dead, I can’t remember.
The glass reaches my ankles
And now my knees.
Only climbing a mountain
To grab into a flower worthy of
Being plucked from the mountain slopes.
And so I shall flourish in the rains
Of a sun-filled cloudy day.
My mind is a snarling fog of infernal rage.
The temples built within echo the ghostly chants of the long-dead.
The fires breathe with the breath of what is unseen.
The rocks glow with the heat of the primordial.
The fire-dancer spins and spins for evermore.
Wander the mazes of flickering light
The gates close with the turning of the gears.
Mighty crags and canyons consume, as the soul
May wander with unquenchable thirst.
A thirst for what will never be seen.
For what will never be seen by any
But the eyes of the external.
Behold the funhouse of fire.
The fog of the blind and the deaf.
I seek the Master Key that unlocks the door.
I will do battle with the Leviathan that rules this mighty fortress.
But the keys to every door are spread like sand
And I have not the will to open the chests
Of rotten oak that crumble at the lightest touch.
The fire-dancer spins and spins to block he way to mercy.
I wish to pull the core from the hypno-beast.
The whump-whump-whump of the flaming
Revolutions drive me to madness.
I beat y head against the rocks to drive
Out the madness invading me like a parasite
Cancer.
Your mocking grin stokes the fires of
My rage, dancer.
I close my eyes and allows chains of
Obsidian to pull me into the burning Earth.
To be swallowed by that which consumes me.
I am the Great Abomination.
The Demon of Infernal Rage.
