True Story

Hi,
From the backseat of a car,
From a little girl,
Almost in tears,
Aged maybe ten years.

Do your eyes see,
What mine are seeing?
I don’t think I’m dreaming,
But I tried,
And it’s no use screaming,
No one will listen,
For this black sheep,
It’s no use uttering even a peep.

Up ahead,
Tangled in exhaust fumes,
I see dragons and monsters,
So fast they drift away,
Between cars and truck trailers.

This was to be,
Her first remembered encounter,
With things of the spirit realm,
And who,
Pray tell,
Was at the helm?

They sure weren’t wearing,
Any kind of disguise,
But even so were seen only,
By this girl’s eyes.

She tried telling mommy,
But was told to shut up,
To just stop making up,
Another crazy story,
So she zipped her lips,
And as mommy didn’t heed the warning,
The spirits got their opening.

**********

Hindsight now says there’s no doubt,
That the source of origination,
Was those peoples she saw earlier,
They were all dressed in black,
And at the same time as her,
Decided they needed,
To have a little snack.

Eyeing her party up and down,
While wearing smirks and frowns,
Details of what transpired,
May never be known,
But apparently they were able to acquire,
All that was required,
Before the girl left town.

**********

Not much time passed,
Maybe days,
Possibly a couple of weeks,
Since the spell was cast,
And apparently demons attached.

One night Grammie,
Decided to come with the girl,
And her sister and mommy,
It’s been too long,
To really remember,
What was the errand,
That to this day,
Could make ones hair,
Stand on end.

It must have gotten late,
For it was dark,
When a man tried,
To make them his mark.

On a two lane road,
In a little New England town,
They were on the way home,
When the semi ahead stopped dead.

Dead in the center,
Of a two lane road,
Then he got out,
And they didn’t really know,
What this was about.

Bad things could be felt,
As soon as he stepped down,
From the cab,
So with a frown,
Mommy prayed,
As he sauntered towards,
Their little car,
It made no sense,
At the time,
But by now the grown-up little girl knows,
He was on assignment,
To cause them harm,
Maybe even death,
To reap earthly rewards.

He was almost up to the window,
So mommy rolled it down,
Stuck out her head,
And asked him why was he stopped?
What was so bad up there ahead?

He said something,
It made no sense,
As it was of course nonsense,
Telling mommy her car lights,
Were blinding his sights.

Then he turned tail,
Got back in his truck,
Oh what luck!
Driving off to who knows where,
But at least he got,
The hell away from there.

Within days of that brush,
With certain torture and death,
Lord it’s been so long,
There’s no way to remember,
If it was before or after,
But Satan himself was there,
For she heard what recently was confirmed,
As his laughter.

Driving along,
A country road,
It was curvy,
And the grass hadn’t been mowed.

There were woods all around,
And at some point,
Mommy’s car acted up,
Out of nowhere,
It started making scary sounds.

Around the corner,
There was a big dirt area,
Where cars could pull over,
So mommy turned in,
And right away from the forest,
Came a deep manly voice,
Saying ‘HA-HA-HA’,
It was loud and clear,
And pissed off the little girl,
The moment it hit her ears.

She rolled down her window,
And at the top of her lungs,
Told that man to shut up,
In the rudest way she knew how.

Mommy may have known,
Who was out there,
Because she freaked right out,
Frantically yelling “Roll that window up!
We’ve got to get home”!

**********

It’s been a few decades,
Since these episodes,
But life being life,
It’s been a bumpy road.

There’s a war out there,
And it’s all supernatural,
The more that’s learned,
The more this and that,
From the past,
To her mind it all returns.

So lucky to be,
One of the few,
Whose eyes got opened,
Who knows everything is magical,
Though only some’s from Heaven,
So be aware,
The rest comes to you,
From the depths of Hell.

**********

No One Is Silver, And That One Is Definitely Not Gold

**********

I hear I’m such trash,
I hear I’m a crazy,
I hear I’m an idiot,
But I hear it all,
From a bigot who’s lazy.

**********

It’s time to cut ties,
With all the lies,
Snip it off,
At the root,
Give their ass the boot.

Playing both sides,
Walking a fine fine line,
Always promising to be there,
Pretending to care,
Until it’s time,
To face reality,
Then their face,
You’ll never see.

Going nowhere fast,
And wanting to drag you down,
With their sorry ass,
Keep your focus forward,
No need for glances back,
Those kinds of minds,
Aren’t strong enough to attack.

Facts are facts,
And truth is truth,
It’s not your imagination,
Though they’ll tell you otherwise,
To cover up those lies,
Listen to your inner man,
When you feel him prod you on,
To a different destination.

Hear their silence,
No peace in its presence,
The meaning is demeaning,
Or sometimes malicious.

In proximity,
But just out of reach,
Assuming you’ll save the day,
You’re kept around,
For when desperate times,
Call for desperate measures,
Then in a flash,
Your name is preached,
And they’re stuck like a leech.

Together and caught off guard,
In a battle with bloodshed,
You’d be the one dead,
They’d never give cover,
If you had a bead on your head.

Weak links,
Who fall apart under pressure,
I see them like poor abused dogs,
Beaten and caged,
But deathly afraid,
Thinking without bowing down,
They will starve and drown,
In truth,
They’re even worse off,
Because something they lack,
Is courage to bite back.

**********

I hear I’m such trash,
I hear I’m a crazy,
I hear I’m an idiot,
But I hear it all,
From a bigot who’s lazy.

**********

Two Fourteen

This thing,
“Valentine’s Day”,
It reminds me of those church people,
Who only remember,
On Christmas and Easter,
Who is King and Master.

It does not matter,
What they say,
It’s just stupid,
And it’s always been that way,
It does not matter,
What is said,
If it makes you that excited,
You are fucked in the head.

A heart worth snagging,
Will never be impressed,
By heart shaped boxes,
Maybe I miss my guess,
But if that’s all it takes,
For a fucking yes,
You haven’t won a thing,
Worth all that bragging.

Mr. Fancy Pants,
Is taking her,
To the dinner dance,
How very predictable,
But the rest of the year,
You know they’re miserable.

Making time,
By skipping work,
As if he’s not,
Usually a jerk,
As an added touch,
He’s picked up cheesy flowers,
Knowing it’ll amp up his advantage,
That when you’re out on the town,
You will let your guard down,
Mentally sign yourself up,
Together for another year,
Bound to be,
An even deeper disaster.

Bears and candies,
Line the bar,
When you wake up,
And head for coffee,
In your jammies,
This is supposed to make right,
Every time there’s been a fight,
Please don’t fall for it,
Another fucking year of bullshit.

**********

It’s not the life for me,
I prefer to be free,
You may call it lonely,
But I say,
It sure as shit,
Beats your misery.

**********

The Famous Lamb’s Blood

It’s like a wave from the ocean,
But dry like air,
Not breezy like wind though,
It blankets your body,
From head to toe,
As it enters your soul.

You’re left with a feeling,
You’d like to keep on repeating,
Complete,
Though you’re vacant and starving,
Very soon you’ll need more. 

Now you’re unsoiled,
Even if covered in mud,
Found by the blood,
Makes you supernaturally cleaner,
Than you’ve ever been.

Dark forces will try,
Telling you it’s not real,
For what they’ve never experienced,
To them can’t have much appeal.

Do not let them steal,
The way it’s made you feel,
Remember the best paths tend to be narrow,
And at times have never even seen a harrow.

This life’s a long hard road,
Lucky,
Now you won’t be going it alone,
You’ve gained a spirit guide,
Who’ll lead you safely,
To the better side.

No Help For It

It’s my favorite,
And I don’t want to get over it,
Though it seems the worst choice to make,
It’s my favorite,
And I don’t want to let go of it.

I’ll confess it doesn’t seem,
Like a prime pick,
And why just any won’t due,
I’ve no clue,
But this one for some reason,
I think would fit like,
A perfectly-broken-in shoe.

As they’re pretty much alike,
That one should be able to,
Just take a hike,
But it’s like I’d like to connect a cable,
Because when I’ve got it around,
I feel slightly more stable.

Such a terrible old thing,
And gives an awful sting,
When it lashes out like lightning,
But still I find,
It makes my life exciting.

Maybe it’s just an addiction,
If so,
That’s one super strong poison,
Even so,
Bring me a big cup,
And I’ll drink it right up.

It deserves a good kick,
But still,
I hope it stands unmoved,
When it gets this reprove,
Since when it’s around,
My life feels improved.

I bet it’s bad to be around,
It’s always pulsing out vicious vibes,
Like an agressive animal,
It may as well bare teeth,
And lunge at feet.

There’s a simultaneous urge,
To push it away,
And pull it closer,
The emotions that surge,
My mind is like a rollercoaster,
Whether from me it’s near or far.

The sight of it,
Has my stomach in knots,
I’m wishing it would just get lost,
But then I’m loving it.

Persistent as a tooth gone rotten,
It just will not be forgotten,
This sunshine might be lost,
But I’ll seek it out,
At any cost.

Ramifications Of Remaining Silent

First impressions,
Aren’t always right,
I’ve found sweet expressions,
Sometimes hide unsaid confessions,
Someone you think,
Will be a love,
You may have to tell,
To go fly a kite,
Though with an old enemy,
You may eventually,
End up friendly,
Sharing a similar destiny.

We’ve all got things,
We keep hush-hush,
Just remember though,
They’re not all,
Little innocent secrets,
Once we know,
They can deal quite the blow.

Meeting others,
For the very first time,
Lately I’ve learned,
To keep this in mind.

It used to be fun,
Getting to know new someones,
But recently I’ve had to realize,
Enough is enough,
Better to criticize,
Than have wool once again,
Pulled over my eyes.

You think you know,
All there is to know,
About that hoe,
And her friend Joe,
About your beau,
And your long-time foe,
But this so-called knowledge,
Is likely laced with lies,
Just half-truths,
The rest of which,
You’ve chosen to blind your eyes.

Knowing everyone’s complete history,
What they may have done,
And how they actually feel,
It would change both your stories,
And neither of you will ever know,
If it would cause the other,
To become cheery or sorry.

A silver lining……….
Not all untold thoughts,
Are ones that bring things,
Such as shame or strife,
Some if you were to find out,
Would probably change for the better,
Your whole way or walk of life.

For sure,
If more people,
Would become less paranoid,
And make their thoughts speakable,
Rather than keep them classified,
It’s possible we’d attract more like minds,
And with one another,
Become overjoyed,
Rather than always being annoyed.

.

Made Possible By Snowmen

A Christmas wreath,
Flying through the air like a frisbee,
Grabbed by an unseen hand,
Settled on top of,
A pudgy snowman.

The snowman shook her head,
She was confused,
Feeling something around her head,
She reached up to unseat it,
But it had become fused.

Her head began to tingle,
Where the wreath sat,
And then the bells attached,
The wind made them start to jingle.

Every year,
The very same wreath,
Floats down from the air,
And picks out a snowman,
To help with Mrs. Santa’s Plan.

Someone at the North Pole needs a snowman,
One that isn’t made,
Of their magic snow,
So Mrs. Clause sends out this wreath,
To gather one that she can’t reach.

During Mr. Clause’s,
Christmas Eve run,
Mrs. Santa has things,
She needs to get done,
For something in particular,
She’ll need the help of this one.

You see snow from the outside,
Is the only thing,
That can make things go unseen,
And she wants to hide.

No!
It’s not like that!
She’s not doing anything shady,
But those elves are nosy,
And she wants time to herself,
For a cozy evening,
Like a regular old lady.

So up and away,
Flew the snowman,
And when she landed,
In that Far North Land,
She was greeted by the twin,
Of Santa’s famous deer Vixen.

“My Lord”!
She exclaimed,
Upon looking around,
“I’ve never seen,
So many like myself before”!

“Ah, but they’re not like you”,
Said the twin of Vixen,
“Ours are made with stuff magical,
And cannot do the job,
We’ve collected you to do”.

And so in the short time it took,
To deliver her,
To the Clause’s door,
He provided swiftly,
A brief North Pole history.

Mrs. Clause heard them coming,
And threw open the door,
Calling out a merry greeting,
Around the mouthful of Christmas cookie,
She was eating.

Now Vixen’s twin plodded off,
And the non-magical snowman,
Was left with just Mrs. Clause,
Who explained she needed a night to relax,
A total break,
From the whole Christmas act.

“The elves would take this as a sign,
Of great disrespect,
And my husband would worry,
I wasn’t taking our job seriously,
So year after year,
I bring one of you here,
For the snow you’re made of,
Gives off a poison shine,
And if elves look upon it,
Their eyes go temporarily blind”.

So the non-magical snowman,
Was asked by Mrs. Clause to guard,
Posted right at the property’s edge,
So the elves’ views of the place,
For the next twenty-four hours,
Would be barred.

All throughout the coming day,
That woman had a ball,
She had,
After all,
Waited a whole year,
For this day to fall.

Half was spent lazing about,
Watching un-Christmassy things on her telly,
Then she cooked and ate unhealthy cuisine,
Like sausages with sour kraut,
Before taking time out,
To read a book,
Instead of being,
The elves’ cook.

Peeking out her front window,
She saw the non-magical snowman,
Was still there keeping watch,
But the time was up,
On this trick,
She must get ready,
For the arrival of St. Nick.

It would be another year,
Before she would again be clear,
Of dear Mr. Clause,
And before he showed his face,
The evidence of what happens in his wake,
She must be sure to erase.

For of course Santa Himself,
Would be able to see through,
The non-magical snowman,
As he’s much more powerful than an elf.

Let me tell you gladly,
It does not end badly,   
For those flown in to assist,
Mrs. Santa makes damn sure,
They are compensated for helping her,
She turns them magical,
Rather than returning them,
To where the first sign of warmth,
Would have them die a death most tragical.

Hey Little Kitty-Kats

In this classic case,
Of being in the wrong place,
At the wrong time,
They picked up their pace,
When the Strange One,
Opened up his jowls,
And let out a heinous howl.

Being so much smaller though,
The cats were too slow,
And the stray wolf,
In need of a pack,
Turned them,
And now there’s no turning back.

Basic house cats,
They were out on a stroll,
For some Halloween laughs,
And sad to say,
That was the last time,
They’d have a normal-cat day.

It was a fun time,
People watching,
And clawing jack-o’-lanterns,
Until they were unrecognizable,
Until a dog walked by,
Who was quite sizable.

Weird vibes emanated from him,
But they paid no mind,
Until it was too late,
Now running was out of the question,
They were out of time.

*************************

That was last year,
And now it’s been a whole ‘nother year,
Halloween,
Has come ’round again,
It’s been accepted all around,
Although it still feels foreign.

Now they’re wolves,
The Strange One,
Couldn’t find a pack,
His magical abilities,
Made others of his kind stay away,
As though he were overrun with fleas.

Due to lack of fans,
The Strange One took matters,
Into his own hands,
He made his own pack,
Out of house cats.

There’s no way out,
For him now,
Though he’s happy to have a pack,
There’s one thing that,
He cannot stand,
And this is when they meow.

All the other wolves,
Howl and bark,
Sometimes in the daylight,
But mostly when it’s dark,
His mostly talk,
When the sun is up,
And each time they meow,
He wishes they’d just shut up.

*************************

Strangely enough,
The pack is content,
You’d think they’d be upset,
But they’ve got a silver lining,
Because to them,
Their master is in debt,
They’re spoiled rotten,
And they’ll never let what he did to them,
Be forgotten.

Godsend

A flood of peace,
Swept through my soul,
It temporarily patched the hole,
And made me feel,
Almost whole.

I was able to sleep,
More than a wink,
Like I hadn’t,
In almost a week.

**********

But let’s back up,
To when thunder struck,
And every imaginable,
Type of hurt,
Made me wish I was under,
Six feet of dirt.

There were hot spots and cold fronts,
But I must be a dunce,
For I held out hope,
That this time I may be taken,
As more than a joke.

The hot spots did not last long,
They were like maybe just the first bar,
And the cold fronts were endured,
As long as the rest of the song went on.

**********

So back now to present time,
I could not think,
There was every negative emotion,
Swirling through my head,
Like a storm out in the ocean.

I tried to calm down,
But as no definitive dreams came,
My mind continued to drown,
Then I remembered a trick,
That can solve any problem,
And the only thing needed,
Is a certain book about two inches thick.

Without a doubt,
It was time for supernatural help,
Answers weren’t coming on their own,
I’d have to conjure them alone.

So out came the giant purple volume,
And I closed my eyes,
To ask about the burden,
Eating me up inside.

I call this my magic eight ball,
And it always answers when I call,
My hands were guided to the exact needed excerpt,
And I was prompted to pay attention most especially,
To the one numbered as twenty.

Oh I don’t know why I was even surprised,
The response was just what I had surmised,
And that night I was able to close my eyes,
And sleep for the first time in ages,
Soundly until the time came to rise.

**********

Now if the patch can hold,
Until the conclusion,
At what’s bound to be,
One hell of a reunion……….

Downfalls

We’re usually blind,
To our own failures,
So if you don’t mind,
I thought to be so kind,
As to give you some hints,
That may save you from a bind.

If your weakest link,
Isn’t very strong,
You’re gonna have problems,
The rest cannot fully make up,
For what is wrong.

Maybe it’s a part of your being,
It could be someone you’re seeing,
But if you don’t cut it loose,
There’s a guarantee,
It’ll be your noose.

It’s time to take the bull,
By the horns,
Instead of keeping the wool,
Pulled over your eyes.

Who’s that person,
Toppling you over?
They’re a rusty link,
That you should rethink,
Nothing but,
A fair-weather friend,
On which none can depend.

You have a choice,
To use your voice,
Silence isn’t always golden,
It will leave you beholden,
To your own mind,
Which should be a crime.

Leaning too much,
On that tasty crutch,
Has made you feeble and fat,
And a slave to that,
It’s as easy,
As the words ‘hell no’,
But it seems you choose,
To self-abuse.

Always talking a big talk,
But seemingly unable,
To follow it up,
With walking the walk,
Whatever it is,
Causing this mental block,
Is a plastic link,
In a chain made of rock.

All of that arrogance,
You’re so full of self importance,
In the end your conceit,
Will equal defeat,
Your chain to you,
Might seem sturdy,
Too bad though,
That this trait makes it,
A tad less hardy.