Tag: Devils

Chicken in my pocket

Trilogy of course a song at a pause, a tinkle in the sky due

Arrange all that arrangements within the arrearage that Providence was supplemented

A chicken in my pocket, a trinket in my socket, a heart in my song, along along

Spider and besides her hair, a beak of the finest pear, my gods it is a simple wrote

Why the goat?

Why the goat?

Tore at the towers gate, a distance from the salty lake that sits upon the midnight haste’s a moon above and beyond its gate

Dark castle waits with a vampires touch, a sociologist at heart he wants to study, the way in which the bite does flurry, flurry in the hearts of men

A dock full of rockets, a paladin and a robber, sit uneasy in truce to catch the brute, whom wilt above the town

And all the while the fool does sing, songs of pockets, chicken and men, a happily known life of Blissfull ignorance of the terror that awaits them…

Shellman

this man evil.
not Hitler evil
not even sideshow bob evil
not a supervillain
just a man who has no brain, no hart, no soul
just a man who is killing us all
by doing noting at all

he is shellman
a sellman who is but a shell
dead, bereft of life but walking on the ash
shaking leaf hand received by none
he is done, done, done

he is shellman
a sellman who is but a shell
said, gives nothing the knife salting a lash
fake he has no place upon our earth
he is dumb, dumb, dumb

this man evil.
not Hitler evil
not even sideshow bob evil
not a supervillain
just a man who has no brain, no hart, no soul
just a man who is killing us all
by doing noting at all

A cup

How about a sip from my cup boy,
A simple little thing
You need not think that I am trying to real you in.

Its made from the peel of an orange and a little courage,
Not a thing you need worry about, I have no doubt
Drink it up, see its just like stout

Just a sip, thats all it takes, for the thing to have its grasp
You can’t give it a name, but it owns your soul
Give into its lure, line, hook, and in the cold
It will warm you up
Keep you high
then send you down to sigh
and start singing the simple line

How about a sip from my cup boy,
A simple little thing
You need not think that I am trying to real you in.

Sin upon sin
from within you mind
comes this desire for you to get higher
drink a little more from my cup
and you will know more about yourself than anyone could ever like

just a sip thats all it takes

will you break, will you shatter
against all the odds, will you not matter?
you try and fight it, but you soon find that another sip is all you need
you can’t deny it
just try it!

and your gone, never to be found, down into the ground
it in you now, and you can’t let it go
one thing alone can set you free, and I doubt you can pay the fee…

Trinity illustration

Breeze says me

Best come in three lot

Today, tomorrow, yesterday needs

What from this do you hope to achieve?

Can you describe sixty things you have done in the past that demonstrates this?

Are you a robot?

I’m not, but I am,

the product of but social and physical learning and conditioning within…

Instead they ask

I’m a yes but I’m a no

Strong my human blood flows

Can you describe?

Describe

How

You

Are?

But I’m just one person

One thing

A object but not

Money in the bank bank

Food in my fridge

Dream it learn it be it

it it it IT

Shorts working

Saturday morning car drive

History and my sigh

Feisty gritty remake

Watch it now

Again, binge

Consume

Create

Change?

Buggy sapience

Trolley lives in a allotment empty of grace

She waits for the summer nights for her race

Trips to the arthropods doorstep

Eats lunch with the queen, oh yes

Buggy sapience

Trolley gives a simple box of nuts

Payment for protection from buggy mace

Sips tea and nods agreeing sets

Going back home to bed, so wet

Buggy sapience

Trolley takes her axe to another growth of jinx weed

Sees the nuts from it gather on grounds she is pleased

Kid, it’s not a dream, you bet

Snake queen and the devils

Flames of the devils have come among us, first tickling then stabbing at our every pore jarring it future open. Blistering blood floats to the surface bringing with it further heat as if it’s been equally possessed by demonic charge.

—-

Tightly she squeezes, the serpent of winter. Sucking all the heat from the land into her body like a black hole, scaring the landscape with her frosty tendrils, and taking with her the heat. She will lay an egg mid winter and the devils will find it with their heat and incubate it, when it hatches again her daughter will scour the land in her place. Her death and corpse will lead to spring, and be turned to ash in summer. One day though, her body will not die, her daughter will not be born, the devils will not come back, as the frost envelopes the land allowing her to suck all heat forever.

Five bottles

Five bottles sitting in the rim

Made of earth, made of glass, spun from of wood, grown from faith, free of sin

full of the flowers of the kings, each dripping with sweet honeydew scent within

pretend they contain your deepest dreams, see the silky skin

the heat, Softness, Full to the brim

I grasp at sunlight to spread upon that skin, to bring it to life, as gaze again

Shock to my scene, a wasp comes in, hoping to score a part of this gorgeous place. It soon brings all of its friends, and they make a neat nest and again I can not be here anymore

Five bottles no longer filled to the brim

The honeydew skilled all over the rim

Spoiled earth, broken glass, burnt wood, chained faith, coated with sin

Concenteena pantomine brushes

Damn

Blue the distance

Convergence we gather/crosses we shatter

I wish I was bulletproof on the tune player

Does it matter? Rafters/plots pantomime horse slayer

Cram

Leave this wish ant

Apple tastes, butter grace/fly buzzcut shone in the race

Moon kisses her mace. She wields it with all her grace

Flavour/silver bottle dies in a haste

Stamp

Is that a quote from Immanuel Cant?

Galaxy hall

I’m on my way down to galaxy hall the meeting place of devils and gore 

In the blustery palls sits every kind of horned beast of flamed saw 

And while I yawn my mothers calm breaths and the seas dark depths I am all gone

For about this place, is a bezel and grace that you’d not think would be adore

Flames along the way, and a marshal of the rammer army 

Playing hellish beats, and frying golden meats in the kitchen for the feast

I’m starting to feel welcome and safe which I did not expect to be a part of such a place 

I’m here now and must be making the best I can

Murcury is not dead 

Kill the message.

Kill the messenger. 

Murcury is not death, though

His is as deceiving as any one can tell

A theith and a lair, Larunda will not tell though

For cutthroat Jupiter hastily cut out her tounge 

You may think, that Murder has beseeched the messenger of the gods

You forgot they are just as tricksy as us if not more

But what else is a god, but the very hardened psychosis of us poorly mortals 

Rick and brother 

1. I’m just as bad as all of the rest

Telling the truth today 

It’s just a featherweight fighting for rate

Getting the bell because it’s used

Stony sand and a beer in a half pint 

Singing with motorcycles blooms 
Chorus:

But I don’t see how

Rick and his brother still love 

It’s all 9 hells and a few more to quell

Just down and down and down and down


2. I’m just as hurt as the man in the pond

Shooting up black opium

Hark the herald devils singing you home

Warehouse spaces left empty

Homeless emotions see the memory

Murder distance from trendil energies