If I reached up and took
A piece of moon
To give to you,
The moon would be
A little smaller,
And there would be a piece that no-one else could see.
If you kept it in your pocket
You would always know
Just where it was.
I could look into the sky
And see the rest,
And know that, too,
Like I know you.
They spoke Heaven in the desert
Where the sand moves beneath
An unchanging sky
Where the firmament is immutable
Over a land that flows like a
Vast and awful sea.
They spoke Heaven, kingdom of spirits
Above spirits, above those who dwell
Forever in dust
Heaven is spoken above the desert,
Heaven is spoken above the desert.
Heaven is burning.
Euclid lied to me
And promised that the world is
All right angles, straight lines,
Level, sharp and
True.
I find now that,
Believing Euclid, and
Following the lines,
I do not find a path, I find
Corners.
People sometimes ask if I've ever seen a ghost. I have, I tell them, and I can do them one better. I've seen a ghost die.
Fifty miles outside El Paso was the town of San Palomino, TX. It had been officially abandoned for very nearly 120 years when I visited in the spring of 2010. It was just two hours 'till dawn and the night was pitch black, the stars concealed by gravid rain clouds. Still, the night was warm. It was a promise and a prophecy.
When my Jeep crested the ridge, the twin beams of my headlights cut a swath through the dark and illuminated the desolate main street. A half-dozen marionette shadows scampered in eerie, elongated bal
There was a chip of glass in my bed tonight. I was up late reading ghost stories when I fancied I head a kind of scratching at my window. Sometimes there's a stray cat or two that likes to bed down out there, so normally I wouldn't pay it much mind, but this was a good bit different... It sounded like the something was actually scratching the glass! Now I'll be the first to tell you that I'm of a nervous sort of disposition, so I took that as my cue to ditch the stories and get some shuteye, reckoning I'd just let myself get a bit too tired.
Well when I'd put down the book and scootched on down under the covers, I felt a little poke on the s
When DeFrantz smiled, he pursed his upper lip enough to display precisely four of his straight, square upper teeth, smooth and without blemish. Despite this unnatural perfection of form, his teeth were not white. Rather, they were tinted the faded, sepia brown of spilled tea or old paper. DeFrantz had smiled in this singular manner upon their every meeting, and so it was rather a shock when, upon seeing her, his mouth split in a wide, gleeful grin, baring in total those stained, geometric ivories, the teeth below every bit as regular and every bit as discolored as those above.
Despite the unnerving impact of this sudden dental confession, sh
Angels aflame
In a red sky burnt black
Fall in tentative trails
Across the receding curtain of embers:
Dismal sigils cast down
From the melting gates
Of an infernal Heaven.
So now, at last,
The final call
Rings curtain down
And spotlights dimmed;
While tickets taken
Now made twins
Lie sere and yellowed
On the floor.
Call quietly
With lover's care
An end to all
This pantomime
And watch the theatre,
Gone at last
To dark, the final
Riot show.
If I reached up and took
A piece of moon
To give to you,
The moon would be
A little smaller,
And there would be a piece that no-one else could see.
If you kept it in your pocket
You would always know
Just where it was.
I could look into the sky
And see the rest,
And know that, too,
Like I know you.
They spoke Heaven in the desert
Where the sand moves beneath
An unchanging sky
Where the firmament is immutable
Over a land that flows like a
Vast and awful sea.
They spoke Heaven, kingdom of spirits
Above spirits, above those who dwell
Forever in dust
Heaven is spoken above the desert,
Heaven is spoken above the desert.
Heaven is burning.
Euclid lied to me
And promised that the world is
All right angles, straight lines,
Level, sharp and
True.
I find now that,
Believing Euclid, and
Following the lines,
I do not find a path, I find
Corners.
People sometimes ask if I've ever seen a ghost. I have, I tell them, and I can do them one better. I've seen a ghost die.
Fifty miles outside El Paso was the town of San Palomino, TX. It had been officially abandoned for very nearly 120 years when I visited in the spring of 2010. It was just two hours 'till dawn and the night was pitch black, the stars concealed by gravid rain clouds. Still, the night was warm. It was a promise and a prophecy.
When my Jeep crested the ridge, the twin beams of my headlights cut a swath through the dark and illuminated the desolate main street. A half-dozen marionette shadows scampered in eerie, elongated bal
There was a chip of glass in my bed tonight. I was up late reading ghost stories when I fancied I head a kind of scratching at my window. Sometimes there's a stray cat or two that likes to bed down out there, so normally I wouldn't pay it much mind, but this was a good bit different... It sounded like the something was actually scratching the glass! Now I'll be the first to tell you that I'm of a nervous sort of disposition, so I took that as my cue to ditch the stories and get some shuteye, reckoning I'd just let myself get a bit too tired.
Well when I'd put down the book and scootched on down under the covers, I felt a little poke on the s
When DeFrantz smiled, he pursed his upper lip enough to display precisely four of his straight, square upper teeth, smooth and without blemish. Despite this unnatural perfection of form, his teeth were not white. Rather, they were tinted the faded, sepia brown of spilled tea or old paper. DeFrantz had smiled in this singular manner upon their every meeting, and so it was rather a shock when, upon seeing her, his mouth split in a wide, gleeful grin, baring in total those stained, geometric ivories, the teeth below every bit as regular and every bit as discolored as those above.
Despite the unnerving impact of this sudden dental confession, sh
Angels aflame
In a red sky burnt black
Fall in tentative trails
Across the receding curtain of embers:
Dismal sigils cast down
From the melting gates
Of an infernal Heaven.
So now, at last,
The final call
Rings curtain down
And spotlights dimmed;
While tickets taken
Now made twins
Lie sere and yellowed
On the floor.
Call quietly
With lover's care
An end to all
This pantomime
And watch the theatre,
Gone at last
To dark, the final
Riot show.
Current Residence: California. Southern California. deviantWEAR sizing preference: Large Favourite genre of music: Rock Operating System: 7 MP3 player of choice: iTunes Favourite cartoon character: Freakazoid! Personal Quote: "EES FOOS BEGOOS!"
Favourite Visual Artist
Zdzislaw Beksinski
Favourite Movies
Dark City
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
R.E.M., Alice Cooper, Blue Oyster Cult
Favourite Writers
G. K. Chesterton
Favourite Games
Fallout 3
Favourite Gaming Platform
PC
Tools of the Trade
Words
Other Interests
History, theology, creative writing, film criticism
Ah, gotcha. Well, thanks a lot. I posted all my stuff two years ago, then took it down a few months later. I just finished reposting ti all, along with my new stuff. If you'll notice the dates, you'll see that almost everything was posted within the last half-hour.
Irony: Freddy The Cat is very atypical of my work, it was written because a friend accused me of being gloomy. XD