Tag: magic

Thoughtless Impermanence

He stood in a vast square

Where milled many

Who fretted and fussed

Over this

And that

Slowly he raised it

A small black box

Whose edges shimmered strangely

As the lid rose

The sound of the square fell

As an unearthly silence blanketed all

Smothering the words

Which played upon their lips

From it arose something black

Which looked more like a hole

Within one’s sight

This something flickered

As though there

And not

And in a moment

Expanded out

Engulfing the square

And all its little fretting people

But still it shifted

Showing now and again

Its flickering ruin

First destroyed

Then not

The people screaming

Then not

Mother held child

Husband held wife

But none spoke

They simply could not

What was their to say

In the face of death

Which took

And gave

With such thoughtless impermanence

Writer’s Worry

We scheme and connive

Always looking for

Always planning for

The next beat

The way it all unfolds

Beneath pen

Key

Thumb

Somehow we have deemed

That we

And only we

Can tell this story

Can shape the land

Call it what you want

Hubris, I think is most fitting

Yet we are still here

Still so sure that this is right

That we still will write

What the world needs

What will effect the most

And what will be remembered

Witch’s Crush

Hu Card collection

Flip through idly

What to play

Which to choose

Witch’s Crush peaks out

I

I don’t remember this one

But I do love those others

Devil’s and Alien

So

‘Why not?’

I think and pull it out

With a solid click it sits within

Flip on

CRT buzzes slowly

Quintrix fuzzy but come to life

I hold controller as title appears

Satanic and over done

Compendium Maleficarum-esque

Woods at night

Naked women dancing

A book of names

Blood dipped fingers scrawling

I start

Pinball as expected

Though words spelled out

By drop targets say

Vendere

Animam

Tuam

With practiced ease

All targets hit

Score rises

Higher still

Eventually though

All balls are drained

And up comes the highscore page

Enter my name…

As I do something hurts

My finger

Pricked

And dripping

I feel a tug

And am drawn

Rise to the TV

And press the blood against

My name I spell

And soon

Screen fades

Black stares back

And I hold my breath

What had I done

What had I signed

Why was the blood already gone

TV clear and coming back

Title screen

And the book

My name at the top

A Culling of Pages

She looms above them

The huddled masses

A scythe of crimson blood

Poised and ready to strike

The Creator can do naught

But trust in her measured cuts

See how she leaves whole lives

Towns and people

Bathed in red

And all but forgotten

Only their Creator knows their names

But in the end

After the death

After the loss

It is made more perfect

More flowing and paced

When the editor finishes

Her culling of pages

Halloween

Two hands clasp limply around midnight

Twelve long forlorn cries

Somewhere above

In his study

A man screams

Welcoming Halloween

 

Another stands alone in his bathroom

Hands bloody and horribly raw

Beneath in the sink sit numerous teeth

This is terrible and yet

He sees something far more horrid

He screams “IT HURTS”

 

Clutching his curtain

A different man stares sidelong

Out at the horrible thing

Standing in his lawn

Airraid siren blaring

It has begun

 

In another home some miles away

The floor creaks

Yet no one is home

And deep below someone screams

Fingers enmeshed around their chest

Probing their throat curiously

 

A woman stands in a crowd

Surrounded by strangers

Clutching her face

Eyes wild with terror

And screams in protest

“THE EYES! YOU SEE THEM! I SEE! I SEE YOU!”

 

It is still early and a young child is awake

Staring at the vent in his room

Listening for the telltale scrabbling

Of those that make them hollow

The vent shakes

He closes his eyes and begins to cry

 

The Jester calls his rebellious crowd

Prepared and ready to raise a ruckus

Their new beginning

Blade in hand

And smile wide

He turns to the lightened sky

 

Deep beneath

Somewhere secret

A bed breathes

And the man breathes too

A few behind a oneway mirror

Scribble a note or two

 

A businessman lies awake

In his hospital bed

Tears streaming down face

As he remembers

Everytime he has died

On that fateful street

 

On the outskirts

A woman tills her garden

As sun greets so lovingly

She brushes brow

Bent low and smiling

At all the faces she sees below

 

Only ten miles from here

In a sanctuary for those mentally disturbed

A man, his face bandaged tight

Screams muffled anger

At passing nurses

“I. WEAR. NO. MASK.”

 

Back in the suburbs a boy left a box

Yet as the door closed

A hand crept out

Black and crooked

Grasped the edge

And pulled as the box collapsed within

 

A vessel long from now

And far away

Turns slowly in void

Directionless

Distress transmitted

Awaiting rescue

 

Back below in a cabin alone

A man screams at the walls

Fists full of dirt

And beating his flesh

He cries simply

“THE EARTH IS DEAD!”

 

Two dance in the depths

Below crashing waves

The woman couldn’t be happier

The man’s face aghast

And twisted in terror

Is all the joy she ever wanted

 

Yet another time

Another place

Something walks in the dark

Listening waiting

And all too hungry

It hears a soft creak

 

Awake and yet not

A man eyes antiques

Something within

Is evil and cruel

Waiting to jump out

In surprise

 

Something similar haunts fever dreams

A man has unfortunately found out

He paws at his face

Disbelieving and afraid

His reflection laughs

In mocking pantomime

 

His

Heart

Is

Not

A

Home

 

In a land that is strange

A stranger is screaming

Holding tight upon the ropes

Try as he might

He cannot stop

The rise of those terrible gods

 

Rusted wire sits coated in blood

The body wasting away

Now it is cut

And taken away

And in the distance

We hear pigs squealing

 

A woman had extracted

Some weeks before

Something small and awful

Flour dusting doorway

She awakens each morning

To find yet more tracks

 

This monster sits

Smiling gladly

At the feast laid out before him

Mask porcine and old

He cries for yet more

And here comes the next bit

 

Mere doors down from the man with no mask

Another cries in anguish

His body is dead

He’s trapped within

And all the doctors

Call madness

 

As chaos consumes

And the tempest draws nearer

A man welcomes it in

He’s drawn all the signs

and he opens their door

And embraces the slithering thing

 

Trapped in memory

A fortress of his own

This man weeps for love

She is long gone

And yet he chooses

To live it again and again

 

One more ritual as the night draws to a close

The corpse is already hung

A man fed Lies Slowly Dies

He screams at the sight

Of that horrible face

And the Lord of Flies calls for his heart

 

As I type and click away

I spy something amidst the trees

It moves

And sways

As all the others

Yet a swear I spy a face

 

Lastly the man

Who fed Him all his loved ones

Giggles away with his pigs

He’s not sure just what he’s done

But he’s sure he’s had fun

And he can’t wait for next year

Horns

I was thrown to the ground

Beneath their blasphemous altar

Hundreds of candles haphazardly arranged

Their feeble light barely reaching

Only able to illuminate the surface they stood on

A rough hewn trunk of some massive tree

A book stood open pages yellowed with age

And upon the page were the words “Ritus de Obscura Luna.”

Someone took my hand and I felt a burning sting

They had cut me with something

They forced my hand over the altar

Then suddenly the candles went out

Despite the lack of light

Even from the moon

We could see

As if the altar itself effused some otherworldly light

Above where it had been hidden

Hung the torso of a man

No arms nor legs nor head

And suddenly as I watched

The body began to contort

Something sprouted from the arms

Long and curved

Two horns grew impossibly from this body

Then a seam tore along the bottom of the torso

Flesh tearing and separating

Within I could espy numerous blunt teeth

Then finally the chest tore upon either breast

And two eyes stood open

Burning fiery red as they stared down on me

“Now, his heart.”

Commanded this grotesque thing

And before it all went dark

I screamed for my God

For anyone to save me

They fell silent in return

And I died alone

Knowing only the cold cut of a blade

Collection

Arrayed in fantastic display

My vast collection of memories

From fragments to days

The whole of a life

Within a bauble or two

Here a girl’s birthday

Shown now only

As the cake she ate

And the toy soldier she was given

Yet as you gaze upon them

Time unravels

Unfurling the scene

In all its glory

The minutest detail

All accounted for

And here

A man’s first kiss

This case displaying

The car radio

Always playing Gloomy Sunday

Billie Holiday, of course

And the wheel of his car

Now it reveals

That sweetest moment

When breath was heavy

And lips finally met

Ah but here now

Look further

Something strange

And far more wondrous

This display

It…

Um

It contains only

A black ink stain

And a spilled wine glass

The night was dark

Cold and lonely

Even the coyotes abandoned their call

The wine was cold too

Chilled to perfection

A soft clink

As they shared

A quiet moment

Then she whispered

“I’m ready…”

He took up the ink pot

Cradled carefully in both hands

Before pouring it slowly over her

Coating evenly

She was left shimmering

Black and glimmering

Then she screamed

Mouth distending

Contorting at a strange angle

And he screamed too

Eyes bleeding thick ink

This is not the memory I wish for

I…

I did not put this here…

No I do not wish to remember

I reject this

She-

She was everything

We would transcend together

But here I lie

A castle in mind

Holding only

Our memories

Ritual

Precision

That is what is required

Exact measurements

Perfect lines

Drawn in felt black pen

Exactly 1 inch wide

The angle of curve

Follows prescribed notes

I can feel it now

The approaching chaos

The tumult of the cosmos

Revolting against this

My most perfect rite

Still the door opens

The walls bent to hyperbolic oblivion

But what issues forth

Is all too much

Light

And sound

Sonorous booms

Gyrating pillars of flesh

Iridescent clouds of scarlet and violet

I feel a question encroach

“Your desire?”

I collapse to my knees

“Order…”

I mutter

There is a laugh

Like the tearing of time

A great sundering of sense

I then plucked my eyes

Straight from their sockets

But still the sound

Bore into my mind

Always to rebound

In my quiet moments

Then

The door closed

With a calamitous slam

And an exhalation

Of a now unseen behemothic beast

My plea

My desire

Had been rejected

The universe is chaos

It is disorder

And now I

Shall serve entropy

Dirt

I stretched my toes

Feeling the soil spread beneath them

Slowly I closed my eyes

Easing a breath from my lungs

Was I truly ready for what I’d find?

For what it would show me?

No

But no one could truly be prepared

I knelt and with a black bladed knife

Carved an eye into the dirt

Then pressed the point of the dagger into my thumb

dripping a few drops of scarlet blood upon the mound

The frimament began to shift

Quaking in excitement as a low rumbling took up

Then the eye I had drawn

Blinked

As it opened the loam fell away

Down into the earth

I lowered my face to this hole

And stared back into the eye

Black nothing greeting me

Then a distant light

Sparkling

Shimmering in the dim

It was magnificent

Horrible

Awful

Terrible

Everything which had died

Or will die

The churning mass of souls

Which comprised the earth

The lives we walked upon daily

Without thought

They looked up at me

And screamed their truth

“The final life

The ultimate form

Of all that is

Or shall be

Is simply the dirt

And that which lives within”