Red or Blue? What a stupid question. Take them both and follow me.
All Made Up
Just a quick bumble of words for an October photo a day challenge. The photo them for the day being "All Made Up". Click image for full-sized version.
In The Shadow
The following piece is something I've been fucking around with for a while. It began as pages upon pages of stream of consciousness pablum. I scrawled thoughts on pages in an attempt to push through an experience. Particularly, in regards to sleep paralysis and how I have experienced it in the past. Nothing like some of the tales of old hags and aliens.
My scribblings got me nowhere and I attempted to form a short story out of the best of it. It did not want to be a short story.
I moved on to something poetic...and got nowhere.
In the end, I jammed it forcefully into a rather ungainly, sometimes unmelodic and stuttering form of poetry called a sestina. What better form for something formless, eh?
It starts simply with a more commonly recognized cinquain and then flows through the 39 lines of the sestina from there (6 stanzas of 6 lines each plus a 3 line stanza to end, 11 syllables per line, and with the very specific format of the sestina in tact).
I still think of it as a work-in-progress, but I also think it's time to set it free.
Don’t tell me it’s nothing
that shadow looming over me
bearing down with much foreboding
cannot move, yet mind exploding
envelops ’til I cease to be.
Sleep is interrupted, but I do not wake
I know not whether I’m conscious or in dream
No effort moves me, I remain fully still
A dark figure looms over me in silence
My throat closes on its own cries of nothing
Lying deathly frozen in the In-between
This reality conceals the In-between
Hiding gossamer ripples left by its wake
Everything obscures a horrendous nothing
As in a drug-hazed, heavy, oppressive dream
Drowning everywhere in blood-curdling silence
The brain is buzzing and fuzzy; hardly still
Strive to break the spell, in vain; I remain…still
Neither here nor there, just hung up In-between
My voice has been taken, I’m left in silence
Peace in pieces under the undulate wake
I cannot move a muscle to end the dream
I don’t wish myself something which is nothing
To be silenced within His oozing nothing
Suffocating on a distent tongue held still
In His hopeless phantasmagorical dream
Prisoner of His infinite In-between
Eternity will pass ere I ever wake
Tingling cerebellum heralds His silence
Palpable spite belies the Spectre’s silence
A vile black hole’s volume of wanton Nothing
The pall lies over as at a somber wake
Posed in rictal scream of the forever still
Pursuing a Prince’s path to the In-between
Demolished, I fall back to the fugue of dream
He rules with choking fear in this waking dream
His rules suffocate me in frightful silence
Slender stalking phantom in His In-between
There’s never any refuge from His Nothing
The Shadow looms in my light; He waits there still
But perhaps there is no dream from which to wake
Dreaming of what happens if I never wake
In silence, In-between and forever still
I am weary; phasing out…into nothing.
Twenty soldiers at attention
Impulse forces their surrender
Once selected, start ascension
Uniformly straight and slender
Victim smiles at the offender
Abrasive wheel upon the skin
Both enjoy a moment’s splendor
Before a knowing fateful grin
Persistent replays of the sin
The Soldier glows in your embrace
Following his deadly brethren
To cloak you in fog of disgrace
The Reaper beams upon your face
In truth, both transform, both consume
One soiled, dirty, crushed in place
The other hides malignant bloom
Thought While Falling Asleep Last Night (This Morning for Some Folks)
held things too hot
held things too cold
of things roughly
had a hold
i am paying in the gut
for food feasted
whilst wild flush'd
casting loose a wary wind
so sooth some
pink'd piggish sin
careful, yes i must admit
trigger'd trips of