Black Soul Afidavit

Death on the surface of a plague,
Spewing serum in rabid abdication,

A perjurers first instinct
To rot upon that vial,
Thunderously bellowing for absolutions he devoutly hates

Finding bonds with decrepit fellowships
A putty for a craftsman with distinctly darkened vines

Cradling close the dearly fallen,
An appetite whets upon in blackened anticipation

And as a feast of blood sates his wicked tongue
The beast acknowledges the impossibility of nourishment
As fatal pangs asphyxiate the morsels just devoured
The cravings emulsify within
Delineating the unrequited compensation
Delivered to those who discard the graces bestowed when choice was still free.

Mechanized

Regarding machines
out shadowing man's shadow
They don't need to sleep
We do. They don't need to eat
We do. More than they need us

Regarding machines
Technologically advanced
species made by us
It is our own misfortune
Our price for acting like God

Regarding machines
Time to upgrade once again
Reboot before sleep

Regarding machines
Regarding machines, again
Regarding machines

Regarding machines
Glitches likely reoccur
Purposely planted
Seeds of automation. They
Remind us daily

Regarding machines
I dare not say another
word. For the fear that
Reassembly will transpire
Somehow…they can always hEAR

Mechanized
Neutering of man
Intellect
Artificially
Wiping clean

What man was
before man became
What man is

Charles Miller presented us with the challenge of the machine.  Head over to D'Verse to read the article and to check out the poetry that it helped spawn.  Meeting The Bar gets wired tonight.

Wandering With Another's Wardrobe

listen to ‘Wandering With Another's Wardrobe’ on Audioboo

Stigmata scented

and poised to see

God’s forgiveness

Tired of what’s become

he hoped to change

these “fortunes”

He’s seen so much

yet knows so little

of meaning

Nature, nurture

to him a choice not provided

until this day

He kneeled before the altar

as he’d never done before—

         he realized he had no business to be

Clasping hands, similar

to how others had done many times

before the quenching song was sung

He had a speech all planned out

and like a lawyer he defensed his soul

with all the many reasons beyond his own control

He claimed he’d changed,

how different he’d become

and that’s when God appeared

Unfeeling and cold, he stayed knees to floor

knowing this all should resonate much, much more

but he also understood, if God returned, soon it all would

In an ancient and blessed tone,

psalms from Heaven filled the room

but muster a nod was all our hero could

As disrespecting as perhaps this might look

never once did God forsake his grace,

for he saw the tears stream down this man’s face

But before those drops could hit the ground

the sky opened to a basking love sent down,

and buried deep, the stolen soul is found

Eviscerated now, is the curse

         for even those so entrenched in sin

                  God can see the worth within

And the vampire may have lost his thirst

         but in so doing, he now had

 the chance to seek eternal life

        

        

This week for Poetics, the crew at D'Verse has asked each of us to create a poem that uses the vampire, either literally or figuratively, as the central figure/theme.  I just happened to post this piece yesterday and have decided to link it up with the other vampiric poems.  Head on over, enjoy what's been linked up, and while you're at it, perhaps you'll see the light and burst in a creative explosion of your own.  If you do, please share.  Cheers

In the recording I made some changes, mainly changing the narrator.

Proud to perform at Wednesday Open Mic with JohnnyK over at the River.  

The Mephistophelian Provocation

Well, I'm a bit late to the pub this week, but I'm thankful that Claudia kept the doors open as I definitely needed a poetry fix.  And that of course means that, as is the case for every Tuesday, Open Link Night is up and in effect over at D'Verse.  Stop on by, read some terrific poetry and while there, link up a poem of your own for others to enjoy.  Cheers!


I. CAGE OF SIN

In this age of terminal belligerency

A hex, a pox is placed upon thee—

Tingeing forth the pummeled plant

pressing through the groveling glass—

Thine heirs be slain,

in judgment for thy sins,

Each those chosen prior to

and the ones yet coming to pass

Silence these ne’er-do-wells

housed enslaved, voicing perditions

for which man’s inner weakness craves

Dwell in the aged moment’s freeze in time

linger long ere thy dreams clash therein

Fore in such a place, amidst the blinded vermin,

friends be replaced by the slithering tongue,

within the wretched serpent’s cage of sin

II. A Signature upon Shedding Skin

Beware the pomegranate kind—

sacrificing winter, for a fleeting summer’s moonlight dance

Bathe long in thy sweated skin—

before ye blood hath spilt upon demon’s pact

Return ye shan’t; regret falls moot

for what has waxed, will surely wane—

Returning all thy suffering—from fathoms deep

to an ever weeping flame charred sky

When debt comes due,

redress accrues the interest kept

III. Forcing the Hand of God

While thy prayers be pronounced,

And thy annunciation understood—

  

The heavens must flood forth its tears,

flowing forward, despite—because

of God’s ever-existing paternal love

Yet—because thy scrolls be scribed

by bloodied pen:

Thy penitence must be denied,

Thy soul, to Hell, must be sent,

And such is the price one pays

for abandoning:

Thy belief in ye self,

Trust in God’s will

Thy Faith—Thy wisdom—

That God shalt keep ye safe

And such is the fate,

of men who:

                           Fraternize with unholy beasts—

                           Break bread at demonic feasts—

And there is no saving

A man consumed by deicide