"mephistopheles" poems
A falling feather on the breeze,
lilting like the Seraphim
songs of Mephistopheles,
lured her drunkenly to him.
Lilting like the Seraphim,
she drank his iridescence. He
lured her drunkenly to him,
enraptured in naivety.
She drank his iridescence. He
befouled her virtue, was the air.
Enraptured in naivety
no more, would Eden hear her prayer?
Befouled; her virtue was the air
he stole away, a hunched-up thief.
No more would Eden hear her prayer -
the echoes howling his motif.
He stole away, a hunched-up thief,
a fallen feather on the breeze;
the echoes howling his motif -
songs of Mephistopheles.
Footnote: Passages from folk lore:
Hindu - the peacock is said to have angels' feathers, a devil's voice
and the walk of a thief
Chinese - a girl who looks at a peacock could become pregnant
Islamic: the peafowl carried Satan into the Garden of Eden after consuming him
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
Asmodeus is left to breathe nothing but sand
Belial is trickery and is partial to Man
Charon is only influenced by what is paid
Dagon will bake whatever can be made
Erebus guards his own darkness under his own tree
Furfur his army is more legendary as a legion to see
Geryon his sentry at the gates ensures leaving is not right
Hetu-Ahin even whole at Dawn you are not safe at Twilight
Itzcoliuhqui is the ******* of all that is cold
Jezebeth is articulated as all falsehoods that are told
Kasdeya wallowing 5th in line to never be king
Lilith who Adam thought would make him sing
Mephistopheles not the true leader just a fawning servant
Nyx Incestuously in love with her brother Erebus
Orthon can take on any or other form
Philotanus will assist when the fortress is to be stormed
Qanel is alone in a canal of strife
Raum his command means Furfur is under the knife
Seth Rules the Egyptian underworld with an iron fist
Tando Ashanti Takes seven on seven and will never miss
Uphir will ensure that all Demons stay well
Vetis will make sure all that Holy comes to Hell
Wele Gumali is as black as the darkest sin
Xaphan makes sure that all are comfy and warm within
Yama has dogs to take care of all the junk
Zagam is just a drunk
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 5:48 AM UTC
"Until an hour before the Devil fell..."
Yahweh and Lucifer got on so well,
God thought Archangels so beautiful,
God blessed each of you, so dutiful,
Lucifer, our light divine,
Now fallen angel, out of time,
Evil love, Prince of Darkness,
Diablo Mephistopheles, no less,
Sad to say, Beezelbub runs Hell,
But, Yahweh and Lucifer got along so well,
"Until an hour before the devil fell...."
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
the galleries of independent machines
are put onto display in the gilded halls of long corridors
bleached away by
anti-
bacterial soap.
and we say that we are the universe.
and we are the ones that tell you what to do.
preachers of mephistopheles,
creatures of indetermination.
and indeterminate
origin,
the goat-footed gargoyles treat us as play-things.
and the winged seraphs as day-things.
but we know that we are night-things.
and night-things fly away.
she wrote her number in red-lipstick, hit the high-notes like a whisper,
and whispered.
she got under my skin
and she crawled around while she was in.
she bat her lashes
and bit her lip,
she tasted her painted
fingernails
as if licking her claws clean
and threatened -
to swallow me whole.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 12:21 PM UTC
A figment of fictition
So persistent in perdition
Little distant,
Little hat trick
Lay her down upon my mattress
I spit hot glue
whether or not I ought to
It's never thought through,
never bought new
I never sought another off-tune
Sound
I'm perfectly happy with my own.
And life's an acquired taste (bittersweet trainwreck)
Just like a whiskey flavored sno-cone
So just
Relax.
Take your bags off and lean back
Discheveled chivalry,
Burning bush,
Uttered simile
Muttered quickly
In a sea of young blood and old trees
Just try and make a meek response,
recompose your shattered sconce
Redirect it all deliberately
with my newfound friend tenacity
I report a list of casualties
after a hurricane of history
Recurring dreams are haunting me
Face-to-face with Mephistopheles
Which I ponder in all honesty.
Should I fear the devil within,
even if I don't believe in him
or is it enough
that he believes in me?
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:16 AM UTC
Stand beside me
Stand and exhale and
Tower over me
Shadow me
Fold me in your darkest
Where no light can hit me
Speak normal
Be usual
But teeming with me
Shelter me
Not caring
and bearing
it all
Look at me between warm breaths
Amid the frightful
Swat away
Keep my gaze
Steady
In your cover
I am everything
Cosmos Mephistopheles
Cancer
Jesus reborn
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 9:01 AM UTC
"I can't do this anymore."
She said as she dropped
the razor from her hand.
The cuts on her hand were
as deep as her love for him was.
She sat there weeping all night
thinking of how she could reverse
the time and heal her wounds.
The night was as troglodytic
as her heart.
She clenched her fist tight as she
heard it whisper in her ears.
A very familiar voice but not
palatable to hear.
A voice that sounds like an elegy.
Her world spun at the speed of light
when it said it's stuck to her.
Her hands started trembling as
it was latched onto her.
Nails so long and eyes so red
she couldn't stop the horrendous
voices in her head.
As soon as the firebolt struck
the ground the wolves started
bawling, the fiendish and
diabolical sky started mourning.
All she wanted at that
time was to be free of that
unendurable and inadmissible
pain but the depression which
came in the form of Mephistopheles
did not let her empty her vessel.
As the long abominable and
atrocious night passed she was
found lying on the floor breathing
but not alive.
She was completely shattered and
broken into tiny bits but
with every tiny bit she still
loved him.
That was the night she realized
what it was like to
live with depression.
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 12:28 PM UTC
Writing about you is cheap and easy:
Fast-food poetry.
I can queue you up in ink
Wherever a pen is given to me
With little more prompting
Than that soft black hair,
Those unhappy eyes.
You're new old shoes,
Worn thin around the edges
And where the world weighs the most,
But I reach for you for every long journey,
For every quick trip.
I wear you in line
At the McDonald's in the airport.
I don't order anything,
But I pour you onto napkins
And let you flutter away-
Nothing new.
'Q
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
She sat next to me,
a soulless body.
She hid her face
behind the darkness.
She stretched her
hand and showed
me her scars.
She pulled her
heart out and
kept it right in
front of me.
A heart that
was black
and poisoned by
the dart of phony
love.
I looked into her
agonising eyes,
where the spark
no longer existed
She touched me
by her flaccid
fingers.
My world which
was colourful
became a caliginous
place to live in.
As soon as she
touched me, my
heart started throbbing
And my eyes started bleeding.
I could feel her unendurable
pain .
She had just come out
of a fiendish storm and
was afraid of falling again.
But yet she fell again
for a prince who
came on a white horse.
His tranquilizing words
healed her cuts but
little did she know he was
just another mephistopheles
who came to ruin her.
She thought he would never
hurt her but his actions made
deeper cuts .
She had passed her inadmissible
pain to me which ******
the soul out of my body
leaving an empty mind
and a shattered heart.
The chain had just
Started and I realized that
I was the first one who was
targeted.
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 6:26 AM UTC
MEPHISTOPHELES. Make good use of your time! It hurries past,
But order and method make time last,
So, friend, take my advice to heart:
Hear lectures on logic for a start.
Logic will train your mind all right;
Like inquisitor's boots it will squeeze you tight,,
Your thoughts will learn to creep and crawl
And never lose their way at all,
Not get criss-crossed as now, or go
Will-o'-the-wisping to and fro!
We'll teach you that your process of thinking
Instead of being like eating and drinking,
Spontaneous, instantaneous, free,
Must proceed by one and two and three.
Our thought-machine, as I assume,
Is in fact like a master-weavers loom:
One ****** of his foot, and a thousand threads
Invisibly shift, and hither and thither
The shuttles dart - just one he treads
And a thousand strands all twine together.
In comes your philosopher and proves
It must happen by distinct logical moves:
The first is this, the second is that,
And the third and fourth then follow pat;
If you leave out one or leave out two,
Then neither three nor four can be true.
The students applaud, they all say 'just so!'-
But how to weavers they still don't know.
When scholars study a thing, they strive
To **** it first, if it's alive;
Then they have the parts and they've lost the whole,
For the link that's missing was the living soul.
Encheiresis naturae, says Chemistry now -
Moccking itself without knowing how.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
to a beginning no one has dug far enough or searched their souls long
enough
nor has been ever a man who lived as long as Moses, or caused more doubts than Mephistopheles.
Don't get me wrong, I am religious, in a vaporous way,
I see apples as figs and floods as myths.
Reminisces cloud my atheistic thoughts. Day to day according to the sun shines
or cloudiness.
And steam rises from my breath, at times. When I feel so alone, and coldness closes around, I doubt my doubts.
I seek God to speed healing when a loved one is in need.
I am first off, an honest hypocrite. I would sell my soul for Peace.
I see the new day, sometimes, kneel down in prayer.
My question remains as I say, Amen, for what.
And to whom?
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
HE is the ultimate omen, the satan-slayer, the real mephistopheles.
he drips into my panicked mind like rancid blood, oozing into every
nerve and crevice.
stop; i'm already breathless.
there's no way you could dance through the shadows unseen, unheard, undetected.
but still, you bypass my every defense and creep behind me,
your aura radiates disease and ****** i feel your cold breath against my neck, and red is all i see.
my mind runs rampant with the ideas of the terrors that be.
i turn to face the awful red-death, the demon that makes god's army of angels flee.
he licks his lips and pounces only at me, i turn back and count to three.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 5:33 AM UTC
Man has the power to
Engender greatness and to
Persevere while
Holding great burdens upon his shoulders.
In spite of the dark regressions
Steeped in his fiber and core.
To levels unspoken. Master
Of all that he surveys.
Passions abound and goodness of
Heart. has
Elevated him over and over again to
Leave animal instinct and
Escape and to great heights to
Soar like an eagle past Satan's grasp.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC
MEPHISTOPHELES [with a solemn gesture].
False word and shape compel
Mind and space by this spell!
Be here, be there as well!
[They stop in astonishment and stare at each other.]
ALTMAYER. Where am I? What a wonderland.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 3:48 PM UTC
I am disappointed.
I let you go
That you may
Find yourself,
The sparkle in your eyes
That bore through me
May burn bright.
The firm round beasts
Taut with desire for a touch,
That heaved at every breath,
Every turn of my words
And glance ...and I
Withdrew from them,
And your quivering lips.
Dying each day a thousand death,
Pining eternally till yesterday,
Like the lover in the Grecian urn
To liberate you and liberate me
From the there after, routine and
Mundane. To preserve the spark,
Blow into it, create a new word
Every moment, not be a wife
Or just a husband! But creators,
Challengers to Jove's throne.
The fire once again stolen.
Ahh..But pasted on fb what do I see!
Sagging ******* dim eyes,
Dead, limp locks, stable pasted smile,
Dotting over a fat boy and a ***** palsy pet.
Pretending to be happy with them
And a glorified clerical job.
I am liberated from pain,
But this freedom gives no joy,
Ah Mephistopheles!
I scream not in agony
Having lost my soul to Helen
But in the absence of pain.
Helena has become a fat
Dull mommy cooking
Noodles for fatso
And ***** petty Paris.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 11:08 AM UTC
Lucifer was my first lover,
Now I have a twisted fantasy seeping darkness into my head.
I can no longer grow brain cells but I can now grow horns.
Splitting out ot my skull like thorns from a branch.
There's dried blood dripping down the crown of forehead again.
Dancing with the devil is child's play.
He's wrapped a chain around my neck.
Belts upon my arms, ties around my legs.
I'm fully undressed and unholy.
Light the circular fire while I become my purest form.
Lay me on dirt while the embers silhouette around me.
I'm burning like amber, illuminating the nights sky.
This is a ritual, I can take it. I'm not human, I'm reborn.
Mephistopheles' forked tongue spits gasoline over pale skin.
Imp's are beating on drums as the ceremony begins.
Sacrifice me, I am the chosen one.
Beat me until I believe.
Face down in damp soil I'm a mural against the green.
The mausoleum next to me will guide my spirit where it needs to be.
Lily-livered eyes cremate excervasion into my flesh.
Taloned hands drag my body to the crypt.
Bathe me in others as unfortunate as me,
Then dress me in Ivy so those in the underworld can see:
I'm the "Purest Form Of Innocence."
The one who was once "Me" has finally become "We."
The Archfiend tells me to kneel and I obey his every command.
Falexn eyes control me to undress myself once again.
" Filia Diaboli" He calls me as he places his hands on my head.
I feel my body ascend through the dirt I used to lay.
And when I open my fawn eyes, I'm in the real world once again.
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
Patience was late to my funeral
On your casual ears my voice fell with vicious volume
Bettering any necessity of childish cry
Yet behind the plastic tones I am as silent as a lamb.
Here heard confession: I’ve been least courteous
To these young years who welcomed me over their frame
With warmly bared arms, I met with fire;
Over each threshold my feet held more dirt
Held more scars, my veins ran rank with abuse,
Breath reeked from the dead dry words that spilled
Over every other girl’s neck,
Over every other girl’s lips,
A neat and fancy fiction I buried myself in
Six sick feet under their benevolent belief
Because I felt less
To nothing.
I crawled inside a hot-boxed bottle comfortably
Hidden myself away from the unmuted madness manifesting memories
That I relived each night I stared into the dark,
That I tasted on every other lie;
Here I lie.
My rudely ignorant body is hollow
At the naïve request to revel with reveries of my heart,
Yet the pull tears worse through the chasm
Than through any suffering flesh…
And I can hear
Your echoing voice
Still in kiss, it keeps me still,
Because it could save me
From myself:
You.
...of Mephistopheles
Dec 26, 2010
Dec 26, 2010 at 11:49 AM UTC
Clink clink clink! Out thou comest little genie
Broken is mine heart, not one time but three
So grant me three a wish and may that be
Fly aloft and take these ****** tears with thee
Mine keen eyes captured by the hands of doom
guts wrenched in light of mephistopheles' gloom
A dark solo rider in hue of a hero assumed
Beguiled the young heart is now encaged, entombed
Lo! Take the glass heart and travel afar
Drop it where hungry vultures and eagles are
Pour my light into his blackness like a shining star
Pour it to the end of his every remaining cigar
seek me then in the lands of madness within
Resting as the corpse bride I always have been
Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 3:34 PM UTC
I'm sitting in purgatory
A deserving end
To my ****** story
You think you know who I am
But you don't know what I've done
Some call me the devil
Some call me his forgotten son
I'll take your heart at the start
And say you have mine
Once you realize I'm empty
I'll leave you all alone, crying
I've done a thing or two
That I can't say I regret
I'll dig into your memories
Make it impossible to forget
They say that there are monsters
That live under your bed
But I lay beside you
And plant doubt in your head
Now the question to ask
That you'll have to figure out
Am I talking about someone different
Or am I describing myself?
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 9:19 AM UTC
... I think I'm pregnant to you.
I think our hearts have joined.
A poem is worth so much more in the delivery, so
I place my trust in Australia Post
and the efficacy of the clearly marked post code.
I heard that love is intoxication:
so I purchased a bottle of wine grown in South Australia
and hoped to savour just a taste of you.
There’s a chemical released in your brain when
you meet someone you love;
its dying to meet other chemicals.
But I can’t cope with that kind of expectation,
and I’m too young for equanimous adjustment.
It’s too much like needing a sedative after the *** you almost had
when you thought your girlfriend was coming to stay for the night.
Don’t think I’m bemoaning the fact that you’re not coming to stay for the night,
you live on the other side of the continent.
I accept the disparity of our geography.
I accept the arterial nature of the freeway system in human relationship
after all, we’ve all been told where roads lead.
Did you know that if your name was translated in Spanish?
I'd be interpreted as a conquistador with no hope in the tropics.
And did you know that I’ve always wanted to wear a superman suit and
keep nothing out but steady rainfall?
If you think about it, this is a potent philosophy.
Mephistopheles considered certain questions and theorems.
He found the intrusion of chaos theory and the disruption to the order of the work ethic unthinkable.
He found the mature and calculated response simple:
he told the ******** to articulate and pontificate elsewhere.
So please don't get any ideas.
This brings me back to my remaining piece of news:
Regardless of the fact that it’s medically impossible
I think I'm pregnant to you.
Please write soon.
MChallis © 2015
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 8:27 PM UTC
My premiere deduction was, he deceived with each
Word, that cold-hearted viper, with poisonous zeal
Looking sidelong to observe the mechanics of his deed
On my life, and lips that slander scarce fit to conceal
A forked tongue behind fangs no less infamous or real
Than the impish minions which follow Mephistopheles.
What else might he be primed to strike with his cadre?
What, barring to ambush with his lies, or set upon any
Traveler who may take notice to his presence that day
Upon the deserted road? I gathered what evil cackle
Would uproar, which staff shall pen my last will,
For entertainment in the arenose, unclean witch's cave.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
Reclaim that which was never taken away.
Seek out that which you have hidden.
Take the spear and drive it deep.
As within
So without
As above
So below
Understand this before all else:
What is right for your soul
Bears little resemblance
To what you expect.
To know thyself is the call
And the paradox.
By seeking the truth of thyself,
You discover the truth of others.
One must ****** your Minotaur,
And kiss Mephistopheles in his rage,
In order to assume your Theseus,
And fill your Faust with purpose.
I'd continue in the same vein if I weren't drunk and tired and simply out of patience. Essentially what I'm saying in a poor imitation of alchemical allegory is that the worlds outside of ourselves are bound to the worlds within.
Dec 21, 2016
Dec 21, 2016 at 3:53 AM UTC
raining, gloomy streets
all alone in a thin road
storm wants my soul
not easy to forget
this glorious jail
why always in the dark
dead as a doornail
thus memories can ****
faithless, arrogant but virtuous
a lightning against me
you tell me Mephistopheles
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 2:04 PM UTC