Something’s Brewing

I can’t even remember,
The what or why for,
But that devil’s appeared again,
That’s for damn fucking sure.

I suppose he thinks he’s clever,
But come in agreement I’ll never,
Really, it’s kind of a shock –
Yes sir,
You are being mocked!

The nerve!
I mean,
The dude should know that I know,
He was up to no good,
Last time he was in,
My neighborhood.

Years ago,
He jumped ship suddenly,
It seemed such a shame,
Until the truth came out,
And I realized he was lame.

“Beauty is in,
The eye of the beholder”,
That’s truth,
If ever I heard it,
And it’s pretty crazy,
When the realization hits,
That they are just shit.

Signs are cropping up,
More and more frequently,
As the days pass,
Those dogs are everywhere,
Starting, of course,
The day I woke from the dream,
In which he was there.

Supernatural to the core,
But on the dark side,
Yet somehow feels no shame,
That shit I’d never claim.

I’d love to know,
What runs through this demon’s head,
To make him decide,
When to show,
And when to hide,
And why he thinks,
I’d be game for the ride.

We shall see,
How long he knocks for,
Before giving up,
And again turning away,
From my door.

Severed Ties To Lies (Better Late Than Never)

It was freeing,
To watch them go,
Like I assumed,
But even more so.

Bye to the bitches,
Bye to the assholes,
Bye to you all,
‘Cuz I’ve regained control.

Unknowing wallowing,
Causing complete and total blinding,
Rendered unable of realizing,
The many possible alternate endings.

For a while there,
All seemed lost,
But answering the call,
Enabled the reclaiming of all.

An invisible mountain,
It blocked all else from sight,
But a few taps,
Was all it took,
To annihilate,
And change the course of fate.

To them all:
You weren’t nothing,
You weren’t shit,
Neither was I to you,
It just took a little longer than it shoulda,
For me to see through.

I’m awake now,
Wide awake,
The party is over,
And in the distance,
I spy a four-leaf-clover.

Christmas Delights

One reindeer,
That we all know,
Has a magic nose,
Not this one though,
This one here’s,
Got magic toes.

Toes polished green,
With sparkles like,
You’ve never seen,
And a mouth that’s both,
Sweet and obscene.

Sweet and obscene,
Is an odd, odd mix,
That makes him not a favorite,
Of Santa Claus,
But Mrs. Claus,
On the other hand,
Thinks he’s the fairest,
In all their land.

That far north land,
We call North Pole,
Where the main phrase,
Is ho-ho-ho,
Doesn’t have much room,
For a naughty deer,
But Santa’s wife,
Doesn’t mind a wee bit of strife,
She says he’s a dear,
And her perfect pet,
Throughout the year.

Each and every day,
He comes to her kitchen,
When he smells the cookies cooking,
And she gives him some,
Then they eat them together,
While she sips her rum.

Her peppermint rum,
And chocolate milk,
Is a favorite there,
For it’s smooth as silk.

Silky though,
It may be,
Her pet doesn’t much like it,
So she humors him,
And let’s him have a drink,
From the kitchen sink.

Drinks from sinks,
Aren’t the only way,
She spoils him rotten,
In front of her fire,
He has a big bed,
Lots of fluffy blankets,
On top of soft rugs,
Made of braided cotton.

A thick cotton comforter,
Covers him up,
When he hits the hay,
And he snores away,
For quite a bit of the day.

When day breaks,
He’s awake,
At the crack of dawn,
Delivering the cookies,
With candy canes,
And that minty-spiked milk,
Up and down every lane.

Such stunning lanes,
They have in that land,
From the packed and popular,
Modern lane called Main,
To the ones on the outskirts,
Where the roads are dirt.

The dirt outskirts,
Are lit up like tiny towns,
Decorations and lights innumerable,
Each enormous property,
Seems to set new heights,
And the lanes downtown,
Dazzle the eyes,
Because they are so bright.

Bright and pretty,
It’s Christmas all year here,
At times for Mrs. Claus,
The rest of the world,
Is pretty much forgotten,
For she paints each day,
Painting landscapes and portraits,
Is her hobby,
But you don’t know that,
It’s supposed to be secret.

Secrets here are many,
And we aren’t supposed to know any,
It would take away from its appeal,
If it became too real,
And then Christmas wouldn’t have,
Its special feel.

That feeling of quaintness,
Requires special maintenance,
Even Twinkle-Toes knows,
So he likes to help,
By putting on shows.

Shows that feature all the reindeer,
And trees and stockings,
As well as all the other Christmas things,
That get taken for granted,
But here in North Pole,
Are kind of enchanted.

And enchanted they must stay,
Which isn’t easily understood,
But if you ever get by that way,
On a Christmas Eve,
When Santa is away,
His missus,
Will show you ’round their ‘hood,
Her and the one,
With magic green toes,
Will dance their way down the roads,
Leading the way,
Pointing out all that’s charming,
But be aware,
As some shit’s alarming.

For All Those Still In Bondage

Behind the eye,
Many a thing lies,
The sort of things,
That cause a sting.

It’s dark in here,
But even so,
It’s plain to see,
The savage show.

Images,
Views,
And opinions,
Concepts,
Ideas,
And convictions.

Running around,
Unable to rest,
Demons trying their best,
To ruin what’s left.

It’s a crazy thing,
But from time to time,
Light gets let in,
And infiltrates the dim.

For awhile there,
Are carefree thoughts,
Contentment reigns,
‘Til back in floods pain.

This brain travels,
A rocky road,
Conflicting thoughts,
Cause a spray of gravel.

There are no brakes,
Which makes for a headache,
The only way to force stop,
Is to paint a fantasy backdrop.

To play pretend,
In a fucked-up head,
Make believe so well,
That the devilry mends.

Words Can’t Describe…..

It isn’t the first time,
And it won’t be the last,
Yet each sting,
Is worst than ones past.

Whirlwinds,
That are absolutely,
Stomach-turning,
Are they of God or Satan?
Maybe a little of both,
Either way,
They need a punch in the throat.

Near or far,
They’re like shooting stars,
Zinging past,
Like a lightning flash,
A bright little light,
In the night,
Before they crash.

You’d never sense,
Things going south,
It just jumps you outta nowhere,
And makes you throw up a little,
In your mouth.

As I watch it unfold,
It’s reiterated-
This is why people become cold,
Cold and black-hearted,
Swearing that never will another,
Chance get started.

They’ve outfoxed me before,
Left me blubbering,
On the floor,
But not this time,
Nope,
This time,
They’ll be the ones who choke.

Tired,
Just tired of it all,
Nothing’s left,
But to buy the pony,
They’ve failed the test,
And made their beds,
Now let them lie there lonely.

It May Sound Crazy, But That’s My Life!

**********
I woke with a start,
And after some thought,
Realized one part may be from God,
Not that other who’s a fraud,
For I felt some peace,
And I know it was His voice.
**********

Getting in the car,
I heard screams and shouts,
That had me floored,
From a crowd that had gathered,
Outside my doors,
“Tornado! Tornado”!
But what could I do?
After all,
It was not off very far!

A glance around,
Showed it was indeed right there,
Almost right in my hair!
It was five large swirls,
In a big big circle,
Hurtling straight at me,
Leaving no way to get free.

Suddenly,
I was in the back seat,
And sent a prayer straight up,
Which He answered,
Without missing a beat.

Within a few seconds,
I heard His voice saying,
To lay down and not worry,
‘Cuz He’s got it,
Which is just what I did,
I lay on the floor and hid.

Not long thereafter,
The car was picked up,
But there was no whirling and twirling,
No bumping and bruising,
And I know it sounds mental,
But even the descent was gentle.

Sitting up,
I looked all around,
People were everywhere,
But as I got out,
It was too calm,
I didn’t hear a sound.

Looking up and down,
For anything,
Something strange occurred,
The scene across the road morphed,
From a barren brown lot,
To inside a salon,
That I had long ago forgot.

Who was she?
That familiar face,
She fixed me with a stare,
As her stylist turned her chair.

Soon she spoke,
Her gaze still a fixed stare,
As was mine,
She said how she’s been trying to find me,
And asked for my number,
Which turned my stare to a glare.

I remember thinking,
Is that Miss Alex’s mom?
And then I woke,
With a jump and a blink.

**********
Quickly,
I wrote it down,
And as answers came to me,
I contemplated with a frown.
**********

A familiar spirit was sent,
To me in a dream,
To get what the witch could not,
In her real-life plot.

It was not Miss Alex’s mom,
Whose face she used,
But a lady called Loretta,
To aid in her vendetta.

And God was there to warn,
She was sending a storm,
But He is in control,
So just let it roll.

**********
Well back to sleep I fell,
And oh, the hell!
Another dream was sent,
That required rebuking,
A Spirit trying,
To re-establish a contract,
That he’s never gonna get back!
**********

Sorry, Satan!
But I’m not yours,
And I won’t be his,
Whoever is this demon,
You want me to reconcile with,
It’s over and done,
I’ve already been won,
By both God and who He says,
Is ‘the one’!

That Shit Won’t Fly Around Here

Witches and wizards,
Gather ’round,
You’re going down.

The blood was shed,
And it won’t be wasted,
We’re here with a purpose-
To see evil dead.

The horror and gore,
We abhor,
And it’s gotta go,
In Jesus’ name,
For our God is more,
Thank just folklore.

Your spells are blocked,
And your cords are cut,
Your books are burning,
But luck is with you,
It’s modern times,
So you get to avoid,
The shower of rock.

Caught –
You’ll have to throw in the towel,
On tonight’s assignment,
Go tell your boss,
You’ve failed at this prowl.

With our praise and worship,
And the sword of the Spirit,
We’re ushering Heaven down,
Feel Him fill this room,
Overtaking your charms and brooms.

Crushed are your carvings,
Broken are your bones,
Torn are your tarots,
And cracked are your crystals,
This party is over,
With the win going to the savior.

Dubious

On the one hand I get it,
On the other it’s a mystery,
Either way,
It’ll go down in history.

On the one hand I hate them,
On the other there’s much compassion,
Either way,
I’m not laughin’.

On the one hand I’m over it,
On the other not even close,
Either way,
Keep me bound in your ropes.

On the one hand it’s needed,
On the other it never needs be seen again,
Either way,
It affects the brain.

On the one hand I can’t wait,
On the other I’m scared shitless,
Either way,
I’m far from listless.

On the one hand I think you’re crazy,
On the other you’re my solid rock,
Either way,
I won’t balk.

On the one hand it’s a happy place,
On the other sadness saturates,
Either way,
There’s no telling what awaits.

On the one hand it seems so easy,
On the other nothing’s ever been harder,
Either way,
That’s an order.

On the one hand it seems predestined,
On the other it’s not even a possibility,
Either way,
I bet it’d have durability.

On the one hand life’s amazing,
On the other I wish I were never here,
Either way,
I’m glad that appeared.

On the one hand that sounds tasty,
On the other I just looked in the mirror,
Either way,
The picture couldn’t be clearer.

On the one hand it’s been long awaited,
On the other it every time gets pushed away,
Either way,
It looks here to stay.

On the one hand it’s there in plain sight,
On the other I’ve looked high and low,
Either way,
It’s not yet a hell no.

On the one hand that happened yesterday,
On the other it could repeat today,
Either way,
Take time to pray.

Better Luck Next Time

And ugly,
Was all that waited at the door,
Ugly,
Too terrible to mention,
And it could be likened,
To nothing preceding it before.

It started at this door,
Just here to the right,
Slyly it got pushed open,
Curiosity was awoken,
And expectancy was high,
But it revealed only a rake,
With rotten tines that poked and prodded,
Yes that door was a mistake.

Parallel to this door,
Was another door,
Hurriedly it was yanked open,
Desperation for a solution,
From the last spoiled door,
Was the only why for,
But all it brought was disappointment,
And need for one more chance,
To vent and repent.

Farther on down the hall,
We have yet another door,
Cautiously it was eased open,
Sadness was secretly the driving factor,
But time had made for quite the actor,
And all surprise was hidden,
Nope there was no cryin’,
When the lamb behind,
Ran off changed – a lion.

Now the next door,
Way over in another wing,
After awhile it was kicked open,
By a dare made when just jokin’,
Although only nonchalance was shown,
There was a hope deep down,
But all it did was drown,
Because behind that door,
Lay a coiled snake,
Who stole all remaining confidence,
When it angrily,
Slithered away.

One day a secret door,
Was seen up in the attic,
When found,
The feeling to ignore was emphatic,
But the ‘what if’ in the mind won out,
And it was shoved open with a silent shout,
A dog was disclosed,
One who loved to play games,
But who could not be tamed,
Before long it was obvious,
This dog was all wrong.

The door after that,
Is hoped to be the final door,
But where is the location,
And are there guts,
To even open it,
Are questions,
For which no one’s got an answer,
Take heed!
Will behind it be,
A snow-white steed?
Or will more ugly supercede?

Help Them Holy Ghost / It Is Written

Looking around,
Is a scary sight,
For the majority,
Haven’t even heard,
There’s a fight.

Head in the clouds,
Not even hearing them,
I know they’re loud,
But I’m thinking about the many,
Whose souls will never soar,
Above the clouds.

Isn’t it terrible?
You’d think they’d care,
But they haven’t any idea,
That they gotta go SOMEWHERE……….

They’re like, oblivious,
That they’re Satan’s servants,
And it’s aggravating,
That telling them,
Makes for lots of hating.

They think life’s all about,
The here and now,
Not seeing much beyond,
Today and tomorrow,
Not knowing how this,
Will soon bring eternal sorrow.

They speak,
I cannot stand it,
Each little comment,
Tells me secrets,
Little tell-alls,
Understood by only a few,
Who walk in the supernatural.

Plaguing demons,
Apparent in everything,
They do and say,
Still they ignore the truth,
To find their own way,
As my spirit’s discerning,
I picture them burning.

It pierces like an arrow,
The realization,
That the way truly is narrow,
And it’s dreadful,
But most won’t ever find it.