oh the future aches in our bones
every cloud is a sign
every bird sings its song to you
magic exists secretively
you used up your spells
i used up my wishes
i call up my father who lives on within me
i feel him smile in deep memory
again its morning
again its night
again its again
rush towards moment
my angel herself appears
of course i cannot see her
i cannot say her name or bear to think of it
i only hear a voice
i hear whisper in dark corner
a hymn she sings as a hiss
a cold and old voice
she says my name
not this name
my other name
my spirit name
my intrinsic atoms that have always being
good deeds evil deeds
YOU ......never learn ! angel hisses
ok then
i remember the devil and his abode
not fire and brimstone but quiet luxury
a handsome devil
his laugh is really quite endearing
you could get to like him easily
he listened to great music
urgent and simple yet unpredictably strange
infernal fugue
a corruption of the angelic tongue
the words are exultant
good isnt it? he says
he sings along :
heaven is what you make it
god can dish it out
but he cant fucking take it......
my hands are numb
i'm very very cold
lowered down down down
someone crying
someone laughing
inside i still alive
let me out get me out i blubber silently
sudden freedom
my skull empties me out
i briefly struggle in the narrowest stricture
the devil sits in his elegant chair
i'm not THE devil he says in english
oh i have never heard english pronounced this way
its simply beautiful
heaven is closed for renovations jokes a demon
your widows dancing on your grave says another smirking
youre dead unlucky chimes in a third
the devil tells them to shush
better call in angel he croons
as soon as said as done
angel naked winged blazing dimly
angel what are you?
i am terrible love
then quickly
no more devil
the night is over
a nauseating elongation of distance
angel is in crystal
i hold the orb in my hands
i see her hidden in the folds and shards within it
am i still dead i foolishly ask after she is gone
i still hear her voice
never dead
never alive
17 comments:
Very appropiate as my father lays in hospice waiting to sleep and pass on any minute. life is short the older we get each year is reduced a fraction and in realify is the enemy of all things living but a friend to the future unborn
SK:
Glad you're still having all these vivid dreams; otherwise, would be deeply concerned about you.
did the portrait come out?
(PS - we got a fucking problem w/ an oil gusher and a bunch of greedy fucking idiots. good Lord.)
wilfred paradise
north carolina
Bewitching and beguiling as always Sire!
I particularly like the like 'again its again'. I've lost count of the times I've found myself facing the same things over and over. Ah well, that's life I suppose.
scratch something into me ...you have ..
Hell, this is good sk!
Have a lovely night in the underworld my friend:))
Heady stuff Steven.
I feel like you are Byron resurrected.....
I just LOVED it.
And the photo...like you are between dimensions...
g
ok....that was a bit depressing. ur the beacon of light that guides ur dedicated followers...not darkness that creeps us out somewhat. better luck next time.
DJK082067
Lust deep to the breast --
He quiets in dark.
thetimebeing.com
BRING. IT. ON. :)
So surreal...I always wondered what the devil was like. Enjoyed yor blog today. xo♥
"heaven is what you make it
god can dish it out
but he cant fucking take it......"
fuckin poetry, man
oh i have never heard english pronounced this way
Untrue...you came to Brum on the GAF tour!
That was beautiful, Steve! Especially these lines:
"i call up my father who lives on within me
i feel him smile in deep memory
again its morning
again its night
again its again"
Now, that's poetry!
I actually have a lump in my throat.
i am giddy with excitement over the news of sk home recordings. bring it on. ...........
Angel is in crystal transparent, faceted, fluid yet solid. I am going through a time of death. I feel the angel whispering her words of comfort and wisdom in my ear. I can also feel the fiery embers and see the mottled colours of decay. Existing between dimensions is the highest form of living. On the precarious edge of life and death...again and again.
hell this is good......
love always...
Never Dead = Never Alive
this answers Everything
Chris Woods
Texas
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