The Small Print of the Black Mass
To steal the power from the newly dead,
Through blackened magic where the demons tread,
You beckon the spirit from the darkest plane,
And feast on the flesh to assume its reign.
From the dirt of the grave, the monsters shout:
"Feed me! Feed me!" as the lights go out.
The flesh turns to liquid, it slithers right down,
To grant you the strength of a forbidden crown.
But a consumed spirit will fight to be free,
Unless you can bind it where no one can see.
So you drag the ghost to the deepest abyss,
And curse it with crimes in the dark's prejudice.
You lock it away in a chamber of screams,
To rot in the static of shattered dreams.
Yet the path to this knowledge is steep and unkind:
You must enter hell's back door and lock it behind.
You hide the key in a desolate place,
And pray that a righteous hand leaves no trace.
For the Book of Sin doesn't offer a lie
The small print catches the arrogant eye:
The contract is absolute, heavy, and cold,
A willing soul, and a payment in gold.
Or a pillar of salt you will turn.
O, my country, devoured by the shadows of beasts weaving through the roots of time,
On your white roads, leading to villages where sadness finds a home under roofs of silence,
With the beggar's sack hanging from the weary shoulders of clouds, carrying rains of memories,
Today, God wanders through you again, like a silent pilgrim seeking faith among ruins.
Under His steps, the earth sighs, like a heart singing its sorrows in unheard whispers,
The trees bow their branches, like old men recalling times when hope was not just an illusion,
And the rivers meander, carrying untold stories, like ribbons of longing that tie the past to the present,
In every corner of this land, an echo of prayer rises, a call to a sky promising salvation.
God wanders through you, o, my country, like an artist painting his masterpiece on a canvas of suffering,
And in every step, in every breath, a hope is born, like a flower finding its way through the cracks in stones,
A promise that beyond the beasts, beyond the shadows, there is a light that cannot be extinguished,
And that, one day, you will rise from the ashes, like a Phoenix rediscovering its lost sky.
Would you rather be devoured by a dog or a cat?
I had asked this of a meadow lark, a rodent, bacon and a bat.
The bacon was silent, but the other three quickly chimed in about this.
I don’t like it, said the rodent, when I am run down by that cat, Old Miss.
I do not want to be devoured by a dog or a cat, the bat quickly said.
For both have sharp teeth, and claws, and I would be dead.
The meadow lark flew off and did not answer me at all.
The bacon was still silent, and the mouse turned itself quite small.
Explicit lavender
Conscientious twine
Copic statically connected and combined
Kabbalistic socialist
Purple oranges
Holographic systematical images launch
And just what does all of this mean
It could have been a radical nightmarish dream
For though it seems
My reality is impaired
Reasoning why I'm not going anywhere
I just stand here and just stare
Pinching gnawing, burning itching, and scratching
biting pain on my pangs
Eating and gnashing of teeth
Heated ravenous all-consuming fire moaning and groaning Darkness oh well
Unrepentant sinner must be being devoured in hell
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2019
‘Devoured’
For I am the representation of the unknown.
I whence at the thought of human touch and flee at first glance.
I fly away in solitude and caw in the name of darkness.
For I am the madness in a poets line and the chaos that brings chills down your spine.
A lunatics binge is greener past the fringe as the laughter echoes past the grassy knoll and the white rabbit effect takes its toll.
Falling in-through a hole-in-one, a single gesture lands you on the dark side of the sun.
You wake in the middle of glide and all you wanna do is do is confide.
The hands of the traveler comforts all who follow.
Especially the ones who connect and wallow.
For I am dark, a winged messenger—swallowed
Sami LaRose
12/12/12
Your Heart No More, For The Dolls Have Devoured Your Soul
Your heart is like a fragment
broken into your soul.
There are no windows to escape, this big black dark hole
You slip down under
going further and further
All the happy parts of your
life fade to black, and there is no more sun around you.
You lay there broken,
like a child’s porcelain doll on the floor.
Untouchable and intangible
The dolls hair is unkempt, and it’s
eyes are falling out.
Bits and pieces of it are broken and shattered upon the floor
You look at it and pick it up;
“I know how that feels”
You say to yourself;
Suddenly reality takes you back into its place,
and there you are on the floor,
lifeless and limb;
your heart no more.
Behind every great man is a great woman
behind every great man is a great woman
i'm a minute woman who only wanted
to make her man superior
but, fell short of his respect and love
never good enough to be his great woman
the unimportant one and the noble one
is incompatible, nothing glorious
became of this two becoming as one
severed, never bonding in marriage
as expected
i'm no longer in denial
believing, hoping, having faith
that this marriage will some how
be a real marriage where love, respect,
and honor prevail
i give my all, but my all is never enough
its just a new beginning to a never ending end
Bugs demolish my skin like the bark of a tree,
They burrow in, make their homes;
They’re using my own shell better than me.
I feel their will to live in each rough bite;
Not human, but hole-y nest of the termites.
I’ll allow them to use my body for their health,
Emotionally hollow, why not accept my true self?
Let my body be a temple that worships destruction;
And the priests? The six-legged who aided in its construction.
Sinners will pray to me i’ll be the worshipped defiled,
And to think that i was, as all, once an innocent child.
Your an ice cream cone
Delicately drizzling my brain,
Sweetness, nutty , sugar-coated nothings;
Haha
You smile and never melt away
Your the sweetest words
Never spoken ...
I'll crunch you in one moment,
devoured and devoted
the color of Darkness
pitch black,empty and quiet
Clouds the vision of perception
And liberates the sight of those who cannot see
Our hearts forever,
Captured in our heart,
Lifted in spirit,
Ravaged by desire,
Set upon a stage,
Feel our passion,
Stay to our course,
Rapture our souls,
Steal tenderly,
Our first kiss,
Lingering,
Internal,
Fever,
Devour,
Lust,
I don't know how to abandon
This maniacal world
Where electric words stalk my nights,
Devouring my mind.
Volcanic images appear
As uninvited guests,
Wrestling atrophied concepts
Into structured rhythm.
Metaphors tease unrelenting
As sounds tickle my heart,
Disowning my need for respite
From red saturation.
Yet I feast upon each moment
Of inspired reverie,
Count each hour of sanity
An insulated gift.
I fall into meek thanksgiving
For voice of expression
Even as I hear the approach
Of mystified ideas.
For what would I be without art
Conveyed in written form
But an aching, unfulfilled soul;
Derelict and deprived?
She is yellow tonight, grinning
as she reflects the day. Her breath
Splashes against me, needles of silver
Inject my skin. Casting shadows and trapping thought,
in punctured sails.
Petals dissolve; gather as pulp at the base
Of my heart. Burgundy lines solid flesh.
Empty beats crackle and echo through
my hollow bones. Chalk that spends itself
in continual lines.
Thought, in tatters hanging from my brain,
Is dry. Scorched by the flickering tongue
Of the sun. Flames that fed on the fertile
Fabric, spun from raw emotion.
Devoured the spark,
halted production.
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