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Showing posts with label devil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label devil. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Giving in

He has taken you
You have no more control
You have been slowly coaxed into a tar pit
The sludge silently swallows your clean human skin, catapulting your spirit into a fiery chasm of ineptitude and dalliance.
You cannot feel anymore
It is all the same
You only notice ever so slightly the extremes
If there is too much noise it is garble and delicious debauchery to you
If there is too much laughter it is the tender kneading of a shiatzu massage
Your lasciviousness is frighteningly predatory
You are becoming a demon
You ooze an animal irrationality and feed it with raw meat
You see no need to turn
You cannot bear the sun
You do not see the sun
Only in fairy tales
The dark is real
The dark is palpable
The void and vacant nothingness is tantalizingly tacit in your request to rule it
You are your worst fears, doubts, pains, and nightmares
You feel no security and slide into the comfort of a momentary pleasure
It is all malleable, changing, shifting as the wind on the dunes of infinity
You are falling in a shaft, a chasm of endless futility
Suspended but falling
There is no hope for progression in your eyes
Just a faded reflection of a jaded pragmatism
It feeds your nothingness and soaks you to death a thousand times
Forever

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Spiral Slide

I.

I yell at myself and fight with a side that is me and is not me all in the same moment
I agonize over what could be a supposed death of that angel that sits on my shoulder
The devil thinks he has a new sand box
Filled with hot wheels, buckets, and plastic dinosaurs
But what he thinks is a play place is actually a sifter
And I catch all the weevils in the flour
I don't like extra protein in my bread

II.

I am placid and calm, directed and comfortably moving
I am irreverently seismic and as inconstant as the wind
I am angry and irritable, my eyes fill with red
I am happy and ambitious, success happens like a Midas touch
I do not want to be what I am
I want to be what I was, am, and will be
But at last I am me

III.

You cannot force me down this spiral slide into a box of wood chips
I can see the puddle at the bottom, brown and murky
It has just rained and the light refracts from the metallic surface
It blinds and heats, and the humidity is palpable
If I sit much longer on top my thighs will burn
Simmering flesh and a sweaty brow
Letting go I slide and the metal grips my skin, squeaking me to a stop