Hate flows,
free through her blood.
Infecting every *****.

First,
with her heart,
then her brain.

A deranged, heartless *****,
with all the power.

Succubi.
Queen of Bloodshed.
Harlot of Satan.

Swing dancing murderers
& ball-room assassins.
Seek her out, on
the dance floor.
To, get a chance to Swing Dance with Lucy, herself.

Good men will fall down to evil.
Slowly dancing and stabbing  
pretty, young girls.
Under the noses of their wives.

To save their,
lost souls
from the belly of the beast.

Covered in their blood, sweat & glitter,
the Party Princesses are slain
by the Princes of Poverty.
Cause they weren't getting pity ******.

Why do I feel compelled
To describe you as imprinted
On the bone face of my skull?
Am I in there, rattling
Around with each curt nod
When you offer me your time?
Hurled against the stretches of the mind
The head's own incubator
Some Palaeolithic cave
Where the only inexperienced scrawlings
Are your portrait
In this cave I have invented film
Starting with a rickety old Zoetrope
Of the first smile; lips bracketing
The teeth, enabling
The tongue, to churn out
The voice, your nuclear voice
Hanging my Nagaskian heart by a hair
I haven't needed irradiation
Like the hand-canter of a harp player
I have been plucking my scalp
Hardly Lilith but perhaps
Deforesting Eden
Will tempt you from Eve.

My sisters and I jest
That men never get over us.
We have been named
Muses, angels, succubi, leanan sidhe
But we are les belles dames avec merci
And that is their undoing.
Our breath has left them gasping
With unfilled lungs
We never meant to be their oxygen
But they drink us in like drowning men.

We didn’t ask for this,
But disarming, we are soft enough
For them to float in
Belly up, eyes to distant stars
Singing the sirens song that stirs in our veins.

Behind our teeth rests the love
The world has failed to give them till now
There are holds in the knowledge
that our fingertips find the hollowed spaces,
mother wounds, clefts where trust was carved out,
And they clutch our palms to staunch the bleeding.

We never asked for this,
They cherish the brittle changelings of us
until they are crushed in the coals of our eyes
Eggshell ideals, fragile as egos.
Blown by the sea wind in the strands of our hair
they are scattered, undone.

The distance drifts between, inevitable
And full they turn away to starve
We cut the mooring line
After one too many storms,
And search
For safer
Harbor.

It was daytime:

I was seperating siamese twins
at the waist
Like a government
trying to quell a rebellion;

I was reconfiguring
scarred old wooden toys
for Santa;
shining scuffed shoes--
pennyloafers with nickels
in the slots.

It was daytime:

I was decapitating
red-haired stepchildren
who had grown
sour from neglect;
removing brilliant succubi attached
to a wholesome family's
soul.

I was snacking on a
nerds rope,
washing babies mouths out
with soap,
slapping pink cheeked
toddlers on their feet.

That ***** Named Desire
I had a succubus try to take my seed
in a dream today   
I broke the connection and said
***** you gotta pay to playyyyyyy

You so used to controlling my desires
well, NOT ANYMORE
Best get on your knees and call me sire
“Sir you have the floor”

I wage war on the empire
of the realm of desire
So if you conspire to be in my line of fire
Don’t say I didn’t tell you,
    You’ve earned my Ire.

The rhythm of my war drum goes:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
Mah heart  BEATS ta da Rhythm of the
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
Dreeeeeiiim
We illuminate truth, or sooo it seeeeeeeeeeeeim
But still.....
The rhythm of my war drum BEATS:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM



So I wage war on the realm of the evil fae
Ima PURIFY da demons until  
dey take me away (screamed)

Bleed out into LIFE;
  reverse the vampire effect
place succubi in a hearse
  and drive them straight ta deaph


cause lately You been drivin me crazy
and making my will, focus, an determination
sooo haeeezzzzy

But NO MORE
cause now Its time to
Settle DA SKORE


Ritually open my wounds
and bleed acid on you
Don’t worry theres enough
cause your hackneyed and few

Ima chase the Daemons off
Smoke my dreads to their lungs
and make dem young cough
so offten I put em in a hot-boxed coffin
Now your outta breath
But im just not stoppin

huh (echo(
whats this? whats this....(echo(  
Claws,
talons,
teeth,
and  uh oh
Blood barrels stacked Its a wierd supply depot,

for that army growin
and growlin behind your eye, see though....
They Perma-
        on your shoulders,
   and now mine, Truth Show





!!!!!!1111RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!!!!!!!11
So my wings tear free of my back
For so long they’ve been bound and compact
I look to my lovers and brothers and CRy
Stand!
Pick up your weapons,
Humanity,
Its time to act


A TRUMPET BLOWS,
   BEATING WINGS
THE DRUMS CONTINUE INTO THE DISTANCE


The rhythm of my war drum goes:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
Mah heart  BEATS ta da Rhythm of the
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
Dreeeeeiiim
We illuminate truth, or sooo it seeeeeeeeeeeeim
But still.....
The rhythm of my war drum BEATS:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM

I understand now, the legend of the succubus
And from whence it came
Being broken hearted, alone, and jaded
Can make a night stalking lunatic, of any dame
My heart has been stolen,
I'll never be the same
So now I wander the night,
With the "succubus" name
I'll slip into your dreams,
Make any man my prey
A female demon of the night,
Its the truth, what they say
A nocturnal dream,
I'll dance in your head
And when the sun shines,
I'll hide under your bed
I cannot love you,
As I have no heart
My heart was broken,
So now I roam the dark
We succubi, hide in the shadows,
Watching our game
We are all heartless creatures,
We feel no shame
Yes, I understand now the legend of the succubus,
And from whence it came
As my heart is gone
Now "succubus" is my name

She casts a spell on me,
believing the runes to be right
I expect that this spell will last all through the night,
tomorrow I'll see
if she casts another spell on me,
and the succubi wonder why
I smile.

In twilight sleep,
thoughts out of control,
images take hold.
Viewed against  the canvass of blackness,
dead people dance
with succubi an incubuses.
Tiny gymnasts
balance on sharp edged swords
in le cirque du soleil
under a moonless sky.

Grimm’s tales
of baked children
and hungry wolves
play out. On a runway
starving women show
the latest fashions in cardinal red.
The Grinch stole my  green silk  Balenciaga gown.
Gave it to the frog  prince.
Sleeping beauty is just a ******.
She had too much of all of it.

Hermes glass slippers are sold
Only too few and deserving  Cinderellas,
trophy wives of  mummified kings.
What they really deserve is not on the menu.
Just le plat du jour of ortolans.
The three pigs are out of breath,
Not enough air for a *******.
Rose colored glasses take on a nasty
hue of watered down blood.
Bottle green is not la couleur du jour,
rather that bile color
with a tint of pus yellow.
There is a storm brewing,
A tsunami rising,
the earth shakes,
Volcano red lava
licks down the mountain.

Destiny?
Fate?
Apocalypse?

A voice whispers:
put up a shield, a bright canvass.
Paint with bold rounded strokes
in earthen tones.  Mold  vessels
to hold the morning dew.
Catch rays of sun
in a glass glockenspiel.
Hum the world, sing life.
Touch, feel, be alive.

A ray of sun sneaks through the blinds.
Dust dances in a shaft of light.
I am safe, for another day.

The cold wind taking its leeway inside
My room in battle of darkness and light
I saw a woman, a goddess so bright
Naked she walked her way on my bedside
Miss sinister I drowned I can't decide
When such beauty danced with me in delight
A demon, a stranger, a dream she might
Such cogent action had woke my blind side

She is a paragon of perfection
Her eyes speak the truth of lust and evil
Her ******* were those that stole man's attention
Yet perhaps I made love with the devil
Blinded I am to unknown affection
True, her flower turned men into rebel

Hamlet, sharpen your sword of trust, for Macbeth is surely waiting.

The specter of ‘Civil war’ stalks the land and the ghosts of senseless violence, so long docile, have come to hollow-eyed attention.

Our cauldron was filled with innocence, as the ever-thirsty succubi require, the glory of war is being shaken, not stirred and the betrayal will be served as quick and cold as steel.

#chefskiss