ms-eerie

What I Think When I Lick A Creeping Shadow © D.Walker 2010 Grabbed dark and screaming into the depths of infernal solitude, Glimpsed obscene, left raw for passers-by to smell. And what hangs heavy, floating in mine nostrils? A cleft divine, obscuring shadows that see? Hold in time a blessed rainbow, Her name now that of a dove. But who can arise above all such things? All but none says eye. Thrown forth like ash, an unwilling witness to the flogging. Kept close to the heart yet held at an arms length. Dogs of men turn out to applaud. No shotguns laugh in the distance. Ancient Gods are tired of mocking, Apathetic as teenage

A Serpent/Goddess Meditation (Short Poem/Veiled Incantation) © Dave Walker 2010 Her serpent slithers downwards Undulating its way through the desert. Causing mutations in the Möbius Continuum Yet she doesn't mean to fuck it up for everyone. She wants a warm place to lay her eggs In a splinter of a thorn That can be torn into the side of a lover or the Antichrist Whoever materialises first. She moves the clouds like a HAARP But she ain't no fucking angel. Every word she hears is now taken to heart. And you shall never appease her. She is the swallower of Oroboros Unraveling her own universe. One sliver thread of real

HA-RU-HAR 718 (Veiled mantra/Verse) © Dave Walker 2010 Lying entombed, barricaded for centuries behind raised walls of retreat. Withdrawn from all commonest timewaves and sensibilities. I scream out and tear the skies in two. Deboned and deveined, I learn to slither. A Gemini torn in twain. Dreaming of steam collisions, on a higher gravitational consciousness. Primal screaming tortured mantras I cannot recall the footprints in the sand. Miles high the Black Mountain had a tiny face Shining forth the greatest light on the path, That only the psychic cartographer need decipher. HA-RU-HAR 718

The scent of Morning (mourning?) drifted slowly through my nostrils. Stirring the echoes of dreams, pulsating into a stirring light. It must be 6:40AM, it's always 6:40AM when I finally realise that I am awake. I die each night in a trainwreck. I pity not the crumpled paper on the floor, writhing in it's own dimension of torment. Stirring in my echoes, a hand 'wakens first Amidst the frenzy of sleeping and remembering, Swings down to kill the alarm. 6:41AM and I am officially awake. I examine my claws, fingernails dirty and bloodied. Another nightime (lifetime) of failed redemption. Fail as I might, fingernails bloodied I cannot

Upon close examination the box looked just like any other box. When held in one held this object in ones hand the box appears made of obscene angles. Juxtaposed realities, seamlessly merging into a flesh & blood vessel. Darkness of line and space meld the box. It is as heavy as a lead coffin, yet able to be held at the burden of the carrier. It's size and shape vary from palm sized to monolithic, shaping the carrier to it's will. The box can protect it's owner as if armor fashioned of molten lead. The box is just as willing to drown it's carrier and lie submerged for aeons awaiting a new master. The box is ageless and covered in dirt,

Shall I ever truly know if I fall upon unbended knee? The point in which the self stops from mocking me? The face intruded becomes now clear, A veil is lifted, the burden now 'pon the self To judge such esteems before a crown That one should idolise. (But for forever more)? And what unit of judgment should one use To evaluate the needs; causes that matter. Dismounting from the steed. A dream that I can live forever? Of these I have seen all things Into and upon my ashen distillation Whereupon all things 'come real. When one falls upon the sword like dream.

Wounded. © D.Walker 2010 When one can open thyself, as activated as one can be. What is it that thy desires as the serpent-fire pierces through? The mundane drudgery that stalkeths from ordained skies, Screaming hellish torment from above and below? Winds of pestilence now pierce my armor. Swords are always blunt and void of sharpening. The mouth spits out acid and screams with the pain of desire. Life's excrement now seeps into my dreams, From bad to good my apples rot one by one. As I lie paralised and dreaming. Bitten by the serpent... now forever dreaming... Into a cage all things shall run, into existence, into conscio