Feverish Fear - POTD - A Visual Video Poem - In Collaboration With Victor Buhagiar
POTD 13 March 2019
Welcome! - We are excited to release our very first Visual Video Poem.
(I trust you will enjoy the complete production effects and the superb narration by Dorsey Jackson (Deeja) on the video above)
I recall the hopelessness that swept
when it brought it’s dark decline
Icy fingers of apprehension run the length of my spine
not from cold but the memories of old
from which I fled ~ its rule I defied
Its hunger denied
This town … this street … of the living dead
Shrouded in its diabolical mystery my presence it senses
I am the threat, the one who escaped
Why then to this town do I return?
The old loathsome brew that assail my nostrils
of decay and something worse
fills me with trepidation anew
Thick cumulonimbus clouds
race each other in rage
Undoubtedly a storm to intimidate
conjured from this portal to hell
nursing a grudge to keep it warm
Yet in a hubris state it shuns the Sun
Cares not for its only natural habitants
Twisted trees ~ spent and bent
With deformed branches they seek
Warmth, denied or dead searching
for their leaves or for song birds long since fled
What vindictive mockery
It has already robbed me of all I hold dear
Through my veins smoldering, fresh blood pumps
Having crossed the invisible threshold
of cowardice and reason
this pure despicable entity has
deviated from all considered good
known to many as ‘demon from hell’
I'm now ready to meet..…
Or retreat in defeat
But never - never to fall under its spell
I brace myself to stand my ground
surveying the dark amber fog
No demonic mutant is going to stop me now
It creeps towards me
shedding saffron sulfuric mist around
I sense before I see its hesitation
yellow livered it trembles
as a Xanthus chill descends its spine
It peers cautiously around
In that split second like a thunderbolt comes
a dawning and a realization
This is nothing but a metaphysical manifestation
A creation of our own endearing
Our own fearful expectation
I step in front of the hunchbacked muck
That calls itself a living dead
A putrid smell emanates from its fear
It looks at me trembling in the knowing that
I am the Victor ~ The combatant
who sees through its guise
set to bring about its demise
I move forward
My eyes a pair of slit scarlet daggers
penetrates its whole entity
covering its dull tawny skin
with my piercing fiery darts
stabbing delicate parts
Burning to cinders peripheries
I laugh as it cringes with anguish
and tumbles down into a sewage filled ditch
Begging for its own destruction
In the dark starless night
A heavy rain pours down on us
A sickle appears in my hand
The end is quick
The storm passes
And all is peace and quiet
as I disappear into a spiritual sphere
from whence I came
End note:
A dramatization of facing our ‘Inner demon’, a product and anchor
point in our minds resultant of negative conditioning.
As humans, we tend to cling to memories especially negative ones –
Memories do not define us, it’s what we do and achieve that does.
Once we ignore our inner negative voice, make the commitment and
cross the ‘Invisible Threshold of Fear’, we vanquish ‘the demon’, a
figment of our own creation, which then de-materializes,
leaving us to pursue a more productive life.
Acknowledgements:
My most sincere thanks to my friend Victor Buhagiar, a great poet and Co-writer of this poem.
Copyright March 2019 © Maria Williams | Victor Buhagiar
Voice over – Dorsey Jackson (Deeja)
Video arrangement, direction and compilation - Ron Williams
Video editing, sound mixing, graphics - Jayne Hartano
(Our very own Lariese.com Art Director)
POTD 13 March 2019
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2019
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