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Umi  Dec 2017
Falling Devil pt1
Umi Dec 2017
When the Devil falls he brings us pain
As if it were Acid to rain
Just like that, I give in, there's nothing I can gain

Such a falling devil, who lands on my heart
And then decides to tear it all apart....
And all of that simply because I have lowered my guard

I cannot put myself to rest, this life is a hell without an end
And while this demon consumes me slowly and wants me to bend
I am witnessing the loss of my one friend

What is happening, am I crazy, am I mad ?
But that shouldn't be bad...
If I seal myself away, this devil won't make me sad

I don't want to be evil I don't want to be twisted...
But its my fault because I have not resisted...
Maybe I have become a devil
Maybe this is my downfall
No, theres no need for you to bring me into the judgement hall

Just throw me into hell...
I know I deserve it well..


~ Umi
Pagan Paul Oct 2018
.
Tumbling stones rumble unheard,
a slide that sends gravity shifting,
starting a new path through time,
the butterfly effect begins shifting.


i.
The ancient track
is solid beneath her feet,
though she has walked
between the stars.
She knows not the place
but has been there before,
And the trail wends its way
through forest dense and dark
to a hags tooth mound
and the Tomb of Travellers,
upon the stone door
an inscription, a warning.
'Prepare to go everywhere.
Prepare to go nowhere'

ii.
“Let time take me wither it will,
be it fluid or be it still”.


iii.
The slow grating of stone on stone
as the door swings open,
light penetrating the gloom,
and the Tomb reveals its treasures.
She enters with reverence
and moves to a vacant plinth,
a marbled seat warm and empty,
her place for the connection ritual.

iv.
A mix of herbs into a secret potion,
preparing herself to swim Time's ocean,
clear cool water to bathe her skin,
awaiting the pendulum of life to swing.
The symbols in her third eye complete,
she eases so gently into her travel seat,
bringing the brew to her expectant lips,
a bitter taste as over her tongue it slips.

v.
Oh gently rock her mind to sleep,
just one last barrier for her to leap,
through Times gate to other places,
as the drug through her mind races.

vi.
A small squat figure emerges
in a midnight blue hooded robe,
Grimly the Guardian of the Gate,
carrying careful an ancient globe.
And her eyes glow with wonder
as she receives the Seers Sphere,
cloudy with the hue of pearl,
its significance is so crystal clear.

vii.
She places it in a depression
in the arm of the marbled chair,
settles herself and closes her eyes,
letting her mind drift on the air.
The connection ritual reaching ******,
acceptance or rejection time is near.
Will the bond form betwixt them?
She places her hand on the Seers Sphere …




© Pagan Paul (30/09/18)
.
Poem 4 in Judderwitch series.
This, and part 2, is a small diversion from the nastiness and gore
to explain how she time travels, how the Seers Sphere is an
elemental force and sentient, but needs a 'vehicle' to work.

My Judderwitch poems are now in a collection :)
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/28451/judderwitch/
PPx
.
Salt Peanuts Mar 2010
The forever-stench of hoboken
The most composed... undress
Loosened to a senseless smirk
Keep walking...
The prettiest eyes droop to a cool low
Posture is hard to keep with them shots!
Keep walking...
Messaging another senseful planet the boring absurdity of now
Watch your step!
Her fine italian dinner is inches away
Or is it fine thai...
It's vulgarity kills any sense of definition
Uh oh... now there are more puddles!
Keep away from those leaking lakes
Of sushi... sashimi... heineken... absolut!
Absolutely acceptable in this town!
Come on! We're almost out of it
Out of the town we were once so happy to visit just a couple of hours ago
When everyone was efficient, and not venturing *****
When communication wasn't fogged, but clear and easy
When men didn't dress like 14 year old boys trying to score at a house party
And women didn't give away their IQ so easily, heads slightly bent forward with a lack of direction
Maybe it was home, maybe it was danger, maybe it was fun
The zombie within arose with a wretched stench of alcohol
Yet this will never stop selling
People are sold this "treasure" of acceptance, rank, a strong sense of esotericism, all lies
Yet in reality, they are simple facades, regular people like you and me.
O Hoboken, you stink
Hoboken, NJ
Amaris  Dec 2018
confession pt1
Amaris Dec 2018
When I was a kid I thought I fell in love
Worshiped the ground he walked on and the sky above
Giving everything I had was all I'd ever known
He was supposed to be my heart and my home
I'm not much older now but I often remember
The child that I had been; God how I hate her
I can't hurt anyone but I can inflict the pain on myself
And I guess I do that too often to be good for my health
The question that always comes up for me is "why"
The search for an answer continues as the years go by
I wish I could reach across time and destroy your life
Instead I sit here and watch red run down the knife
wes parham May 2014
It's a ridiculous cliche but, ******* it, your eyes...
Forgive me if I don't always make eye contact,
Or look away too soon.  I'm listening. I swear it.
I'm afraid you might think that I'm full of myself,
Or afraid you might think that I've no self-esteem.
The truth is much simpler than either extreme.
The truth is I'm somewhere right in between.
but still:
Twin seas draw my stare and I fear what I'll say.
Fear falling into their unlit depths, where even my silence could betray.
The source to illuminate and fuel our lives' desires,
Find it in her hands , her touch,
Find it in her eyes.
Her eyes of ocean depth see me,
Giving no safe place to hide,
Searching bad cliches for the light, the otherness inside.
But what if all of my words are wrong?
What if they drive you away?
What if the light between oceans is mute?
Insufficient to make you stay?
What light passes to the heart or soul through those twin gates, but look!
The gates themselves, ruinous sirens that must be heeded.  Reverence, fascination, a constant meditation, your eyes, your heart-breaking eyes.  I can think of nothing else. I can see little else.
-  improvised for a musical collaboration with a distant artist.
part 2:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/718577/the-light-between-oceans-pt2/

(UPDATE:  IT'S COMPLETE.  Thanks to soundcloud musician Dennis Ramler for taking me on in a collaborative effort )
https://soundcloud.com/flowermouth/the-light-between-oceans
RH 78  Jan 2015
Snake attack pt1
RH 78 Jan 2015
Slithering snake skin over my arm
Will this creature cause me harm?
It tightens it's grip I stand dead still
I'm at it's disposal it's programmed to ****.
I gasp for breath it slides round my back.
I realise then that I have to attack.
Filmore Townsend Jan 2013
we went to Little Blue
that summer in a ***'d car.
riding in extravagance
we couldn't afford.
camping in the Oklahoma ozarks,
we brought liquor. the two of us
drank a half-litre honey whiskey
and twenty-eight of thirty Pabsts.
your chick only nab'd two.
we were sunk from that point on.
i *****'d behind the car, and
there were left retched handprints.
left were a phantom's handprints,
having been drown'd by their hedonism.
the bikers partied along
with us apart from us.
they ask'd to use our hatchet,
that's the way we met.
men share tools, and that was
the only instance of civility
for two days. we ran feral.
rip'd shirt to ribbons,
wrap'd them 'round a stick,
soak'd citronella,
commenced adventure.
returning,
   two hours time gone;
returning,
   scratch'd and bleeding;
returning,
   we lit their paths with
   torch burning a primal fire;
sleep,
pass'd out by fire in lounge chair.
been in this spot before,
knew to bring a quilt
and mine was the only one.
startled awake,
fire nothing more than nightlight embers.
raccoon, sitting upright,
stared from his high perch of a picnic table.
apple in paws, nibbling,
he mock'd and monitor'd.
i swiped at it with a stick,
missed. said **** it.
slept in the car that night.
bymslu Nov 2018
serendipity

i dip in and out

i made a home of the 9th cloud

except the happiness i found leaked out

and spilt outside of the silver linings
..
It started like any other ball up
My boys on the phone are who I did call up
Dank kush they did bring
My doorbell they ring
I let the boys in
and we smoked

We passed the **** 'round
But the herbs were pre-ground

Something was amiss...

I took my first rip
and my hop lost its hip!
Fire from the sky!
All the angels cry!

Darkness...

Awoke in a daze
My mind is a haze
I'm trapped in a maze
lost.

An unknown period of time passes
My boys and I are flat on our *****
"That **** was strong"
"That **** was wrong"
I smoked no more after that day
My reggae vibe went away
I bought a suit
I bought a tie
And I became, a different guy.
There is a happy ending, I swear
connecting….
you are now connected at 4mbps.
heart beats at 4beats per second.

connecting for…
…connection.
social networks
for social interaction.

names. nicknames. pseudonyms
all over the screen.

outbox. inbox.
feelings box.
boxed and botched.

attracted to an idea
a person living inside my computer screen

in my inbox.

are you sure you want to replace this file?
click.

i’m forgetting about you.
you with the flesh
and the warm blood.
and the beating heart.

pop-up.
this signal is poor.
i’ve been disconnected.

we’re disconnected.
Alyssa Yu May 2013
In my life
I have been
Lifted onto an impossibly high pedastal
Puffed up to fit the mold of perfection
Inflated with false hopes
Filled by others’ expectations
Blown out of proportion
Stretched beyond capacity
Pulled until I am nothing but papery skin and bones and air and dreams

But at the sound of your voice
I melt.

Never have I felt smaller than when the whisper of my name rolls off your lips.
Matthew  Sep 2018
The Torture pt1
Matthew Sep 2018
They chose me
I don't know why
Maybe the ****** Mary
Hanging from my neck was enough
To raise their ire
And surely in a ****** it did

I've taken hallucinagins in my life
Good ones
Bad ones
Beautiful magic mushrooms or
Lsd laced with stric 9 leaving your
Best friends siezing, begging god with
That very same emblem, "bring him back" and with a gasp and some *****
He was back

I've also had a history of  depression, anxiety, and the abuse of substances to self medicate. I'd say I've been close to being in a psychosis but never lost touch.

No, that's not what happened in that
Small town southern jail cell
Someone opened the gates of hell

— The End —