Showing posts with label Protection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Protection. Show all posts

Monday, January 21, 2013

Into The Dark Beyond




As daylight fades into a darkened eve
Time drifts aimlessly—in search of recovery

Distinct varieties of transients and ne’er-do-wells approach, commingling about—a myriad of deceptions adroitly portrayed

Fall into the arms of fireflies
Flutter
Above horizon’s lit
Embrace
The variance in the stars
Blinking
As sapphires glimmer among the endless seas
Reflections
Unveil the minions of tragedy kept
Amidst
A skyline of sundrenched scars
                                         Eyes, once alive, quietly weep

As hours mask what lies beyond, take
Comfort in the sheltering caress of the dawn to come

The rogue’s gallery cannot see you.  Alleviate your fears. You are safe, for there are plenty of those without.

To occupy their gaze is an emanation from within.  The vibrancy of guilt is hereditary and you feel it must be claimed.

You cannot escape yourself. You choose not to. You feel safe amongst a violent sky, despite disgrace consuming whole. 

You kneel atop the moistened earth, hands clasped, eyes aimed high, wondering why you must be such a case.

Yet, after prayers complete, I spy you from my pane, as you live amongst the dark beyond, and crave the night the same.

Soon thereafter I do too.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Excerpts from the Lost Journal of a Multi-Lingual Sojourner


The following excerpts have recently been found.  They notate several villages throughout Europe and the unearthly infestation of demonic creatures that had threatened their very existence at some point in history.

These excerpts are all taken from the lost journal of a multi-lingual nomadic traveller, a sojourner, who was known to pass through Europe, never staying too long in any one village or town.  Yet despite his limited acquaintances with the villagers, legend tells of this journeyman.  He is spoken of in many of the lost myths and was said to wield extraordinary levels of respect in every place he settled in.

Throughout these journeys, this sojourner, chronicles were said to have been taken, documenting the widespread terror these demonic creatures had brought upon each village.  The chronicles were also cited as holding the key to how these beasts were vanquished back to hell.  

The dates are blurred and the pages have broken loose from their binding.  Therefore, there is no possible way to determine how each of these entries would fit chronologically:

Page 1:  Visitation to Small Swedish Village

Dessa utlänningar var ingenting annat än utomstående själva. De var utstötta av en anledning, aldrig jagar på desperation i luften. Ändå är direkt ses som frälsare, lovar att vara redskap för förändring. De hänvisar till de gamla texterna, syftade till att tiden för profetian är nära. Men varje bevisade att de var något annat än välklädda charlataner.

Rough Translation:

These foreigners were nothing more than outsiders themselves.  They were outcasts for a reason, ever preying upon the desperation in the air. Yet they’re instantly viewed as saviors, promising to be instruments of change. They refer to the ancient texts, alluding that the time of the prophecy is near.  But each proved that they were nothing more than well-dressed charlatans.

****************************************************

Page 2: Visitation to Small German Village

Sie polarisieren die Menschen mit Ihren Rhythmus und Anmeldeinformationen. Ich wünschte, ich könnte glauben. Ich weiß wirklich, aber ich habe gesehen, zu viele Magier Flanieren durch diese Straßen vor. Jeder bot ein Versprechen der Hoffnung. Jeder hatte seine Zauber vorbereitet. Sie alle eingegebenen in großen Prozession. Doch sobald sie realisiert, dass die Bedrohung real war, jeder zog sich so schnell wie sie erschienen. Ich bete Sie beweisen, sich selbst von denen, die vor gekommen bin und ewig wird eine Zeit der Anbetung sein.

Rough Translation: 

You polarize the people with your cadence and credentials. I wish I could believe.  I really do, but I’ve seen too many magicians stroll through these streets before.  Each one offered a promise of hope. Each had his spells prepared.  They all entered in grand procession.  Yet once they realized that the threat was real, each retreated as quickly as they appeared. I pray you prove yourself different from those who’ve come before and forever shall be a time of adoration.

****************************************************

Page 3: Visitation to Small French Village

Les bêtes sont habituels. Nous avons appris à vivre notre vie en conséquence. Ils ne se lèvent avant le coucher du soleil. Par conséquent, les jours sont les nôtres. Puis un jour près le repas du soir, leur surface cris, l'émission d'avertissement juste de chacun et de tous. Ils n'ont jamais pénétré dans nos logements. Nous ne savons pas si ce n'est par un code ou quelque chose qu'ils ont tout simplement jamais essayé avant. C'est pourquoi nous blottir près, en s'assurant de garder les feux arrosés.


Rough Translation:

The beasts are habitual.  We have learned to live our lives accordingly.  They never rise before sunset. Therefore the days are our own.  Then sometime near the evening meal, their screams surface, issuing fair warning to each and all.  They have never entered our dwellings.  We are unsure if this is by code or something they’ve simply never tried before.  Hence we huddle close, making sure to keep the fires doused. 

****************************************************

Page 4: Visitation to Small Portuguese Village

Então, o mágico, eu rezo para que você é o único predisse a profecia. No entanto, me perdoe se eu vacilar. Você não fez nada para ganhar minha confiança. Mas peço-vos que a varinha de onda forte e rápido, como estamos em suas mãos esta noite e além. Se você é capaz de prevalecer, então talvez se alegrar vai encontrar o seu caminho de casa.

Rough Translation:

So, magician, I pray you are the one foretold of in the prophecy. Yet forgive me if I waver.  You have not done anything to win my trust.  But I pray you wave that wand strong and quick, as we are in your hands tonight and beyond.  If you are able to prevail, then perhaps rejoice will find its way home.

****************************************************

These chronicles are also cited in several antiquated collections of myths, as bearing the key as to how these beasts were vanquished back to hell.  These pages were said to be the most important documents ever crafted and would be shared amongst all towns and villages throughout all the land.  Should the demons return, with these pages, the villagers will be prepared and equipped to vanquish the beasts once more.

Unfortunately, this four entries were all that remained.  It is said, in the staid of those key pages, each village turned to their individual religions and found belief through prayer. 


This piece was inspired after reading all the wonderful responses to my article regarding Poetry and Foreign Languages, present to D'Verse for the 1/20/13 Poetics.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Apocalypse Failed


honeycomb craters
unhindered by the
vacuous charm

footsteps—wagon-sized
circumference barren lots

molten display—
earth aflame

machismo died
in the face of wisdom

…and we cuddled close—
shivering silent, huddled still

above the dining wood,
plates filled, utensils primed

abdominals stifled
by sounds beyond

in what felt like lifetimes,
motion thawed locked bone

breakfast-long past cold,
devoured swift

deafness lingered minutes long
curiousity prompts opened eye

seeing a variety of ghosts
now walking the aftermath

nausea sickens the retraced path—
yet alive we stand; together still

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

66

Heightened sensation of precognition
drew lapsing thoroughfare of cognition
into frantic disembowelment of faction.

Cryogenic remains of what once stirred
the elemental bliss--container not dry,
yet frozen for the present tense.

Sleight of spine, tinged in tears, bludgeoned
self-confidence and castrated the anointed--

words. ever-true. Turned against in desperation.
Panicked, at the thought
of hurting you.  Yet hurt was then beckoned
not to one but unto two.

Oceans filled the decanter of dreams
spilled dry…into wounds, opened-healed-
re-agitated by the salt distilled upon.

A sovereign voice
never thought of his own people
only worried- about what pain was paved  ahead
/closing the kingdoms door
/refilling the moat
too deadly to cross
/inflicting drought and plague
amongst those intent on protecting.

Sorrow filled the kingdom
from throne room down.

Boss of Guardians beheaded.

Perhaps…
The rain will clear
to the point where the antidote can be properly administrated

Perhaps…
Those wronged under the premise of intended deeds of noble airs, will return to the kingdom…

One day…perhaps.
One day…filled with hope (and a cure for spine).
One day..I pray.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Scope


The breadth before the vast astral
Installations of wherewithal
Broad expanse augments small
Gargled alkalis warble, trill
Echoic ruts necessitated infinitesimal
Ablution amongst six pensive thoughts
Washing back range, elongating baptismal scope the same

Ire knees dislodging passion
Cracks entwine crates broken form
To ward thinly askew inessential throngs of warmth
Drain the Castile’s synthetic film
Reeling in obfuscating charm
Rationale of suspending sense
From which true north shall be reassessed
Brow scowled in forlornness’ miscue
Subjections of infancy, in frivolities honor whine
When drinks shared with a stranger stagger still

Stride into a cover up; a masking agent
For air afoul, streaming rebirths second-hand
Resurrected showers reigning tastes from past
Antagonistic actions acid baths
Soon the vermin roam complete
Between the tongue and the cheek
Saturate the gum and teeth
Only resolve becomes expunge, spit

Crosshairs fragrant lure
Semicircles in the lair
Chiding envisioned concepts thrill
Stunning senses with it’s will
Emanations from wounds lanced and spun
Tapestries gauzed over protective shield
Guarding temple of bone erected from acts of skill
Broken frame roped and honed
Indigestion picks its zone
Shiver-shake the painful stare
Beads of perspiration ignite the hair
Zombie rebirth hallucination’s loss of limb
Wrapped and tenderized
Snaps and breaks fractured branch
Reset. Sting. Reset.
         Blackouts are inebriations kin
Wash the damage from the skin
Rinse the words spoke in sin
Repeat the prayer you’ve rehearsed
Gargle.
         Swish.
Puffy faced intuit
         Gargle. Spit.
Simple salve yet ignorant
         Minty fresh façade
Seconds fore the kiss of death