Powers, Principalities, Thrones, And Dominions

[Frunobulax]

You know how I feel about your stuff Steve--and this collection thus far is no different. At least 3 buyers now.

[Steve]

Well say thankya.

[Steve]

Sketch

Looking out these barred windows
I know what it is to be considered mad.
Outside this place
(this place? what place?)
The sun shines merrily
The birds sing in their blue heaven
(blue haven)
And killers are free
free
to indulge themselves.

I am not with them.

In here I am bound.
The long shadows of this gated cell
Fall on me in crossing patterns . . .
And the world spins idly outside,
Unaware of the truly sinister forces at work.

They put me in here
So they could keep me close at hand.
No walking free for the mad.
We all float here --
One way or another.

Our jailors want the reassurance
That we have been tamed
And are no longer truly alive
Before they release us.
The only way to escape these walls,
Is to be changed:
Impulses subdued . . .
Desires averted . . .
Urges left to starve.

Prescriptions let some of us roam serenely outside these walls,
To the places where no one can touch us.
For others it is the hope of release that keeps them free.
And still . . .

There are those lucky few
Who manage to escape these walls unchanged,
Securely fitted in bags deemed for the morgue.

Those small places underneath
Where all men go.

I will fly soon enough.
I have had my stay here
And I will gladly take my leave of these walls.
There are more pressing matters on the outside
That deserve my attention.

[Steve]

Demons

In the small recesses of the mind
Demons wait to be unleashed upon the world.
The deviance of man is seen, unshielded
And the Wraths are loosed upon us all.

Who can know the powerful forces at work?
Who can say for certain what is to come?
As for me, I await the inevitable
And pray for us all.

[She-Oy]

Um, wow. I rarely read poetry. It just something that has never really gotten to my heart and soul for some reason, but for what it is worth...I REALLY REALLY enjoy reading your work.

Something interesting is churning inside of you and the way you release it is quite good and unique.

[Steve]

*bows deeply in gratitude*

[Storyslinger]

Great stuff

[Steve]

Gracias, Story. I'm working on my Southern Gothic book right now, but I've got a shitload of poems waiting.

[Storyslinger]

Sounds Great, can't wait

[Steve]

IN ARCADIA EGO

The evergreen, the mountain sky
The river and the laurel tree
The breath that passes from you to me
Still hanging in the air
The mahogany, the ash and hickory
Faeries dancing in a fantasy
The dusks and dawns, the suns and moons
In your eyes, sparkled in your hair.

And she speaks to me
She speaks sweetly to me
O she speaks to me
And she whispers in my ear

John Proctor hangs for his pride
from the gallows-tree
Ernest Hemingway died of a suicide
the reason why a mystery
St Peter nailed to an X-shaped cross
with his head hanging down to hell
And Ben Franklin bleeds his oath across
the scar of the Liberty Bell.

Well the music swells and all the world goes still
And the earth opens from above
And a host of cupids descend to the earth
In the wondrous guise of Love.

And she speaks to me
O yes she speaks to me
She speaks sweetly to me
Again she whispers in my ear

Well Doc Holliday coughed till blood came out
he was damned by his last words
And da Vinci wondered how to go about
sharing the sky with the birds
Judge Holden sits naked in the jakes
and says he will forever exist
While Bob Dylan falls from his bike and breaks
His neck on the road numbered sixty six

All fear does subside
All hate forever gone
And how fate must decide
For us what must be done
And it's all right, O it's all right
I feel no pain, no strife
I stand with you, all day and night
Sharing with you my life

In the light of dusk
In the light of dusk
In the talcum light of dusk
And the burning dawn of love

And she speaks to me
She whispers to me
How sweetly she speaks to me
The words into my ear

O the gathering ends, the harvest ends,
the rewards of honest toil
Where the curve of the world's horizon bends
the sun melts there like oil
I plant all the love and all the seed
into my heart's golden soil
And there she was, in this field was she
as fair as a maiden royal.

All I hear is your voice
All I see is your lovely face
You have stopped my loneliness
Every drop, every trace
With your eyes so full of love
And your warmth knows no bounds
O please make it soon, beautiful darling
Please make it before the trumpet sounds

Make it before the trumpet sounds
Make it before the trumpet sounds
O make it before the trumpet sounds
Make it before the trumpet sounds
Before it sounds its final erumpent blast
Please speak it, speak it to me

She speaks to me, O she speaks to me
She speaks to me, yes she speaks to me
She speaks to me, my goddess speaks to me
"I love you" into my ear.

[Storyslinger]

Great work!

[Steve]

THE COMING OF THE FLOOD



A palace of frosted spires and arches of glass,
Clouded towers and mirrored floors
Winding stairs and crystal walls
Vesper bells and porcelain doors

The clouds are brawling in heaven's vault
Roped in over gorge and spine
A cleaver of lightning leaps from above
Splitting the sky in a silver line

Men drops to their knees
Stretching their arms out to Him,
Weeping to God, asking for clemency,
But no word from the seraphim

The legions of God brawled in the sky
Rent lead bellies, tusks of fire,
A thunderbolt crackles and the planet rocks
An infernal backdrop of flame roaring higher, higher!

The air smokes and the thunderclouds battle
The sun and moon for the sky
And the masses flee for cover
As the vast black cloud starts to cry

Now from the tainted sky it falls
Belching forth from prehistoric storms
Great faceless beasts that scream and die
To be eaten by prehistoric worms

The flood
The flood has
The flood has come

[alinda]

Great work Steve!

[Steve]

*bows to Linda*

Thank you, thank you.

[alinda]

hey Steve I was at the library the other day . They had a copy of SK
Blood & Smoke, have you heard it? Anyways I was thinking of you because in the one story the name of the main character was Steve Davis....did you know that?

[Steve]

*chuckles*

Yes, I'm aware of it. That's why I like "Lunch at the Gotham Cafe" so much.

[Steve]

THE BALLAD OF JOHN ASHLEY

A dark man went down into the valley
In nineteen and thirty-three
Had with him a gun and a Stanley knife
And two jugs of corn whiskey
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
A boy was fishing in a nearby stream
That split through the dark valley
And the dark man asked him what's your name
And he said John Ashley
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the dark man sat beside John Ashley
On the bank of the bubbling stream
He asked the boy who he was fishing with
And John Ashley said, "I'm fishing with me
And I guess you'll be fishing with me."
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the dark man laughed at John Ashley
He looked at the waters shallow and sweet
He said, "Boy, I'm a stone killer and I mean it too
If you don't watch out around me
I'll kill you and rape your mama too."
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
"Is that a fact?" said John Ashley
Sitting there with gaping upturned face
And talking clear as a bell
"Well if you want you can kill me
But my mama's dead in hell
And I'm the only one left," said John Ashley
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the dark man looked at John Ashley
He said, "Why now, John Ashley,
How did your mama end up in hell and dead?"
And John Ashley from down in the valley
Said, "I killed her and cut off her head
And if you don't watch out I'll do the same to ye."
And the greedy flies hummed in a greedy black cloud
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
Well the sun went down on the valley
In the year nineteen and thirty-three
And here comes little John Ashley
He's got with him a gun and a Stanley knife
And two jugs of corn whiskey
And the flies ain't humming any more
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O! A-la-la-la-la-la!
O the flies ain't greedy any more

[Steve]

DEAR GOD

Dear God, I know You are there
I know You are there at my door

Dear God, I know You are the one
Who watches over me at night
Dear God, I love You as You love me
And keep me in Your glorious light
Now, dear God, the wise men say
I am tested in a terrible strife
I seek the know the big plan, God,
To know that it is right.

Please make it, O please
Please make it soon, dear God,
I feel like I'm nothing but a doll
On Your cosmic shelf

Powers and principalities
Thrones and dominions

What of You, God?
No matter what I want to know
Why do You wait, what is wrong?
The wolf is at the door with the cawing crow
It takes you under, takes you down
Takes you over . . . but lo!
Take heed, beware! The Devil's burn
And the flowers wilt as the evils grow

I love You O I love You
You can stop my loneliness
Take me into Your glory, into Your arms
From Your cosmic shelf

Cities burn and empires fall
Presidents die and trumpets call

I see! O I understand it all
Ah love kills and leaves me spent
I feel weak and sick and dirty
Exhausted and my spirit bent

O please make it soon
Please make it soon
Please God make it soon
For them O yes for them

The world ends
With a prayer on deaf ears

[Steve]

THE STRANGER

Early evening in the pissing rain
And now here comes the roaring train
And the stranger rode behind it in vain
In the heavy folds of melancholia
He emptied his six-shooters out in wild salute
And turned round his horse with the spurs in his boots

The stranger bade welcome to the town
And the mayor came out with sash and crown
The peasants languored in the dark and the stranger frowned
What has come to pass in this town?
So he climbed from his horse and met with the man
Who stood in the saloon with a missing hand

Through the leaden folds of rain he said
All the children in town are dead
And all the pretty women have fled
And the dogs and cats have all gone wild
The men won't work, the ox won't pull
Excuse me, but my goddamn bladder's full

O the stranger cussed at them all
And read them riot all
Tell me where the fucking corral is
And don't give me any gall!

Well the mayor pointed him down the way
And the stranger rode to a livery bay
And he wasn't seen till the very next day
Shot in his own blood without remedy
And the mayor said, Well it's a cryin shame
And we never even got to know his name."

[Steve]

OLD MAN GODBELLY TELLS A TALE


The year was nineteen and aught-nine
On a day hot as hell
When Jake Snow took a shotgun to his pa
And his mama and his sister Belle

He shot them all on a Sunday morn
As they sat over breakfast stew
His mama was dressed in her Sunday best
And little Belle was dolled up, too

When he was done he took up the gun
And went out without a sound
He stood out there in the burnin' sun
And pissed all over the ground

Well it was old Edith Lamb come to the house
And found 'em all lyin' slain
And she let out a yell that could be heard from hell
I couldn't even begin to explain

Well the police found Jake that very night
In the hills where he'd gone to ground
And he had his Springfield rifle in his arms
And cried "Brothers, I am found!"

The year was nineteen and aught-nine
On a night clear as a bell
That was when they shot ol' Jake Snow down
And I here he's a-burnin' in hell

[Frunobulax]

What great works we've here.
All are fantastical, aye.
Keep up the good work!

[Wuducynn]

Pappa Steve coming through with the amazing poetry..

[Steve]

To Fruno and El Crimson King:

I appreciate it, guys, I really do. I'm working on my first collection of poetry and one-act plays, which will be completed sometime in April. Right now I'm working on a short film, which will be done soon. Keep an ear out, guys!

[Jon]

I wish I had the gile to put my works forth in such a manner Steve. You are the complete package.

[Steve]

Aw, thanks for that, Jon. Don't sell yourself short, though; you're a fine wordsmith.