Mark David King @ Twitter! Too, books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, and Amazon.Com, including: WEREWOLF SLUT, VAMPIRE METH 1989 . . .
THREE:
Kitty had anchored Adam, her prey,
Into her suburbia where she would dismay
His corporeal aspects with fangs gone wild
Into his throbbing neck vein, biting, but not mild,
Stealing his sanguine reality,
Making him her slave to forever be
And please her wicked womb with thrusting heat,
For he was a cutie, and she needed his meat
To drink, to eat, to make her further immortal
As wends the way of the vampire portal;
Nevertheless, Adam didn't surrender to her kisses on his neck,
Morphing monstrously into a werewolf that did wreck
Kitty's carnal cravings and yearning blood lust--
Her thinking: "Oh Shit!" This dude is a human/wolf/hybrid mutt.
Kitty Ink Art:
Mark David King @ Twitter! Too, books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, and Amazon.Com, like: WEREWOLF SLUT . . .
TWO:
Kitty wielded the weird of sorcery too,
Morphing her hair longer; still, with the raven hue;
Moreover, she danced naked in her silk-red panties,
Though no reflection in the mirror to make her have vanity-like fantasies;
Nonetheless, she knew she looked cool,
And that her super/vampire/girlness was nobody's fool;
Anyway, she marched into high school that Friday, Autumn morning,
Setting her bull's eye on Adam, the handsome boy all freshmen girls were adoring--
He was the high school punter for the football team;
Plus, easy on the eyes, having a pretty boy mien;
Hence, Kitty strutted up to his frame,
Wrapping her lusts around his throbbing brain,
Unexpectedly kissing him on the cheek,
Not knowing his wolf inside wasn't meek.
Kitty Crayon Art:
Mark David King @ Twitter! Too, books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, and Amazon.Com, including: WEREWOLF SLUT, VAMPIRE METH, 1989 . . .
ONE:
Kitty was a teenage dream,
Having luminous blue eyes that drove other girls green;
Plus, her lips were full and moist;
Thus, within their bluejeans did every school boy hoist
His obvious walking cane;
Moreover, there was her raven-black mane,
Which was a demonic nimbus of beauty--
Verily, Miss Kitty was Count Dracula High's finest cutie--
Yeah, that's just what the kids dubbed their high school,
For the real person it was named after (Bill Clinton) was a Duck Dynasty fool;
Still, every soul has the right
To adventure into their own wicked plight;
Hence, Kitty was on the prowl,
Looking to suck blood from a hot boy's jowl;
Nonetheless, she wasn't the only supernatural freak in her high school,
Thinking the football punter was especially cool;
Indeed, he was a werewolf teen,
Though Kitty was unaware of his canine mean;
Therefore, she hoped to lure him to bed,
Where she would drink blood from his pulsating head.
Crayon Art--KITTY:
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* * * * * *
SEVENTEEN:
The Virgin Mary, angelically swift
Turns to Fenrir--and with a blue-laser blast does lift
The monstrous beast off the serpentine floor;
As a result, he slithers with a scalding hole in his furry hide's core;
Next, Francis and Gubbio with mercury leading,
Bolt out of Hel's demonic domain--the goddess still vaginally (more or less) bleeding
From her defeat as Mary spins Her pistols,
Picking off attackers with the light speed missiles;
Moreover, She picks up Skunkfire and They exit the door,
Hoping to never return to Hel's cryptic lair evermore;
As a result of saving Gubbio; plus, besting their iniquitous adversaries,
The 2 Saints, Wolf, and Eunuch are more than merely contemporaries,
Yet friends forever--united in Godly glee,
Though the Eunuch wishes they didn't so quickly flee,
But forever vaporized the insidious synergy of Hel and Fenrir's form,
Wiping them away from perpetuity, making their death an eternal norm,
But constant resurrection is an axiomatic fact
No matter how many times a soul is mortally attacked--
At least humility was sensed today
For 2 adversaries of Christ who wished to sway
Souls from bliss and Yuletide mirth,
Wanting only a torturous re-birth!
And as the Saints mounted their mystic horses,
Skunkfire and Gubbio galloped beneath, their quicksilver ignited by angelic torches,
Blazing with peace and no ill-will or contempt,
Knowing evil resonates on the Mystic Grid--having a forever intent.
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* * * * * *
Frankie Muniz, the young and handsome actor from "Malcolm in the Middle" has reportedly suffered his 2nd Mini Stroke, yet his cerebral capacity seems undiminished; at any rate, he's always so imperatively bold that: He never smoked, used drugs, or had a sip of alcohol! Maybe that's his problem.
The Old Testament clearly displays King David and his wise son Solomon as great importers of alien vegetation and grape into the Holy Land; specifically, King David Psalms: "Wine to make man's heart happy, and herb for the service of man." Furthermore, Solomon used certain substances for mystical incantations, and begged for the downtrodden to drink wine, an alcoholic substance that Christ Himself, (A God of Wine) much like Dionysus, crafted from pure water in His first recorded miracle at the wedding in the Gospel of John; nevertheless, Christian morality has been deceived by the Prince of this World--the Adder himself.
A plant based diet is healthy. Cannabis is an anti-oxidant, anti-inflammatory, and performance enhancer--even Wikipedia wisely trumpets its medical properties for Inflammatory Bowel Disease like Ulcerative Colitis-- something I've anguished over for almost 20 years, suffering from sincere anal and stomach pain, chronic, bloody bowel movements (up to 20 daily), Iron Deficiency Anemia, severe weight loss, and a number of other melancholy effects, having needed blood transfusions, steroids, pain killers, and I.V. Medicine for years--the only cure being removal of my complete, large intestine; still, if I tried to purchase cannabis for its medical properties, the authorities in Tennessee would incarcerate me, and I'd be sodomized, pay probation fees, and give more money over to the government for court costs--yeah, it smells like Freedom and Liberty in America. The politicians don't care that I suffer lack of cannabis.
Benign narcotics are not insidious or malevolent creations. Neither is tobacco, which also puts Inflammatory Bowel Disease into remission; plus, my Grandmother smoked 3 packs for nearly 70 years, living to nearly 88, and never had heart disease or cancer--it's not physiological axiomatic that smoking will kill you; still, best to use in moderation. And that's the problem. If people would be responsible and use in moderation; next, these sublime plants could serve their Earthly purpose and offer true solace to the users. Ingestion of herb does not make one evil. Still, the American Government will lock you up and sodomize you for it because it offers a hint of euphoria and philosophically expands a soul's comprehension of the grand scheme. I'm not saying do drugs. I'm saying: If used in moderation, benign narcotics, tobacco, and alcohol are not a death sentence. If we were taught CONTROL; then, we could profit physiologically from these substances. Life in itself is a Death Sentence. We are born--food for the Earth, until the "convergence" when man gels with machine, the Genetic Revolution, us becoming bio-mechanical immortals. The gods we are that King David spoke of.
Sex is totally more corrupt and deadly than drugs if not used in moderation--if not used simply for PLAY between two people in love with each other; next, sex spawns: War, Orgies, Rape, Murder, Envy, Disease, Divorce, etc., Still, sex is legal, and if used properly--is a beautiful thing. We demonize drugs for a plethora of reasons. And yes, people abuse it, playing video games all day and wasting their lives; nonetheless, people like Carl Sagan forged linguistic art, Kerouac penned epic odes, Poe too, and the need for it medically should never be infringed by the Federal Government--that is a crime itself.
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SIXTEEN:
Virgin Mary--volcanic ensemble of cowgirl fury
Merged with Saint Francis' contempt for an evil wolf furry
Storm Hel's lascivious lair with non-edged weapons and azure-hued lasers--
Mary and Francis stunning demons and reptilians armed with devilish favors;
Next, Francis keenly observes Gubbio bleeding on a wicked altar,
Quicksilvering his Saintliness with dexterity that doesn't his coolness alter,
Healing his pet with a friendly stigmata-like soothe;
Then Fenrir's ferocity leaps at him, changing the Saint's punctured, benevolent attitude
While Hel and Mary square off with fierce intent,
Hel throwing Coburn-esque daggers, yet Mary's blue lasers morph them bent,
And the cruel steel flops to the lair's slithery floor--
There, Hel then pukes like a vagina discharging infected galore;
Meanwhile, Skunkfire falls, lost to crippling visions,
Yet is protected by the Holy Ghost from Hel's oncoming minions,
For the Eunuch sees:
Adam and Eve's
Genetic, anthropological axioms for all of us,
Giving DESTINY, though minor disturbances do profanely cuss
At the Holy Script crafted on God's Good Grid--
Making existentialism impossible to close a soul's personal craving-like lid,
Yet God can be copied or plagiarized by minor gods,
And only Mani's Angelic Twin-ship "knowledge" offers insightful cause
Into the cosmic, and beyond, understanding Earth's yesterday invasion--
They're already here, forcing labor, sex, and weaning out the asymmetrical nation,
Maliciously editing God's Holy Grid and Script,
Not minding that of Terra the Devil is a Prince, and he loves to trick;
Still, the Holy Ghost whispers in Skunkfire's ear
Something about CONTROL, which he fears to hear:
We are all vehicles sculpted by the passengers who wish to manipulate us--this way or thataway do they steer us, all according to their own immortal lusts!
Mark David King @ Twitter. Too, Books @ Apple iTunes, the Nook, and Amazon.Com!
FIFTEEN:
Hel throned upon salacious squish of dead bones rattling,
Greeted by Fenrir's wicked saunter into her chamber echoing
Of dead and alive--like Zombie Land--
Fenrir's gory mouth full of Gubbio; next, he drops the canine body at Hel's command!
She smirks over the wounded wolf, glimpsing his blood-smeared fur,
Knowing the 2 Saints will be hurt, and the Eunuch pissed at her.
* * * * * *
Francis felt a disturbance in his soul's eye,
For the transfigured, human brain used fully is like a telepathic spy;
Moreover, Mary too knew that it was time for righteous war--
A last resort, yet done for LOVE and its sublime core;
Furthermore, Skunkfire burned the Biblical Herb and exhaled mystic peace,
Knowing via Pope Francis--every soul is within the Good God's Reach,
A super-connection--all of us are--
A pattern of digits and lines sculpted by the Grand Artist--Him, the Ultimate Star,
And upon that pattern--like coils in a super computer,
Life is a pantheistic forge of all animal, Saint, devil, god, or looter--
Whatever--we are all Super-Stringed together,
The Multiverse a pattern on God's screen-saving sweater,
Him knitting it for the Yuletide Season,
Even having gay apparel for no sentient yet still decent reason--
Christ knowing all of this as the Gospels do display,
Him telling the Adder: "Not sex, fame, money, nor bread alone, but every Word My Father does say."
The Messiah wise to our being penned and given perpetual form,
Genetically crafted to execute, whether working in hospice or porn;
Thus, love your neighbor as yourself;
The Living deserve respect, and truth is a book on death's shelf
Might Voltaire in his awesome atheism say,
Him like all of us--spawned by God's life-creating clay,
Formed forever in His eclectic collection,
Laughing, killing, thirsting, satisfying in every created direction--
All the best that souls can hope to do
Is love the luminosity of Liberty, which runs free and true,
For the Author of Life is scripting Our Tales
Beyond the Borders of the Multiverse, where true clarity prevails . . .
