Friday, November 15, 2013
Green Eunuch (Part 2)
As always--my books on iTunes and such: King's Books!
TWO:
Through the vacuous black; below the shimmering stars
Billows with brilliance this Bridge of Ours--
It leads us gods to castles high
Where ravens report to the Conscious Eye--
Skunkfire, aware of heaven's lair,
Knowing that all the gods and immortals will forever dwell there,
Now, him too, alongside Francis,
Beyond gravity's arch-angelic contempt or Dorothy's Kansas--
Gubbio prancing alongside
While Francis mounted on a war horse's hide,
Sauntering through the frigid terrain,
Feeling the chill of November-like rain
Till the pastoral nature of outlandish desolation
Reveals the purplish smog of an industrial nation,
Skunkfire wide-eyed and curious too,
Contemplating his mission that he somewhat knew--
To free the slaves of this Pandemonium's Mire,
While resisting the demons tempting one to get higher;
Still, Francis provided an herb's benign seed,
Handing it to Skunkfire, and he did take heed,
Popping the soothe of solace into his mouth,
Elated though not euphoric as they trekked further south
Into the city where he was glad to be fazed
By the sublime narcotic--since the devil had glazed
This place with slavery and many an opulent fool,
Giving men an eternity of over others' loins giving drool,
Thirsting for gratification and serving its Master,
Finding themselves chained to orgasm that did plaster
Their mistakes into art for many to perceive,
For in death is truth for all to see,
Skunkfire knowing his testicles gone,
Yet his suicidal karma had not damned him a dumb fawn,
For he was with friends and soon to be a hero,
His Earthly life of sorrow having granted him bio-mechanical halo
Of Emerald Green in continual flux,
Meaning: Him robotically handsome though without any nuts;
Alas, it was better, being beyond seduction,
For Ooba bragged of carnal destruction,
Yet for some, that was their heaven indeed,
Even if it meant copulation from horny need;
Regardless, Francis led Gubbio and Skunkfire on the terrain behind,
Through streets painted with vendors and many a scandalous mime;
Plus, slave girls dancing with yellow and black hair,
Having no shame as to shake their asses without care,
Flaunting their physicality and how it might grant pleasure,
Francis just smiling and Skunkfire too stoned to care
Though amazed at the beauty of so many an evil thing,
Like back on Earth where there was death for a Blood Diamond's bling--
And Gubbio lifted his leg and took a piss
On a hover car, making the owner glance and hiss--
Him a reptilian with forked tongue and a double-backed wing,
Though he did not pick a fight, knowing of Francis' angelic kin;
Indeed, Francis was famous on Ooba's clouded gleam
Able to soothe many a soul from the common demon's "mean";
Anyway, the Trinity of the wolf, eunuch, and saint
Did anchor themselves in a warehouse's non-taint
Of opulence or art besmirched by sex,
Furnished with modesty and not having a witch's hex,
For this was headquarters for God's small underground
Outward on a celestial moon for the purpose of things Right and Sound,
Echoing with hopes of a resonating Christmas Season
That might balance out the iniquity of Ooba's demonic reason.
--The Trinity Rested--