Earth's Demonology

   
   "Earth's Demonology"
    
   Prisons, insane asylums, urban apartments, and suburban homes--all house the wicked and weird supernatural.   Mental illness is not singularly illness, but sometimes a sinister infusion of Legion's resound, yet we turn off the supposed fiction of axiomatic truth, our modern and still ancient science stupidly unable to gel with theologians and the hidden truth of the pseudo-sciences.  
   Psychosis is a word--it has an ambiguous meaning; moreover, it is rarely treated with herbs, incense, prayer, and an intensity to connect with the super-sublimity of the Holy Spirit.  Material gain, fast-paced friends with benefits, fleeting fame, and good tits surgically implanted in your darling daughter for her high school graduation dominate the dastardly deals with the devil.  And we consider these people the victorious on Earth; still, they will fantastically fade into tumor-ridden hunchbacks suffering their lose of life, sadly passing without spiritual meaning due to science's braggadocio concerning the myth of the Otherworld, for we have not constructed the technology to counteract the abuse of the intangible.  Verily, we think TODAY is the apex of knowledge--it is totally not!  In ten or a hundred years from now, our science will be outdated and utterly viewed as historically stupid.
   Speaking in languages never having been heard before, or having demon-filled people know your inner secrets that you have never revealed prove the existence of a superior race of beings, playing us like a game of checkers.  And while wolfsbane and Haldol put Lycanthropy into remission--these scientific exorcisms are only momentary.
   Truly, we must share God's dream--not ours.  Yes, I'm tempted by firm, symmetrical breasts, but I'd rather walk with Saint Francis and rub his wolf's belly; plus, share my Slim Jim with him.
   A State University physician has absolutely "no chance" of properly treating a soul made foul by way of diabolical possession; next, cops arrest the infected victim, he's sodomized in prison, and the demon grows stronger, all while the conservatives laugh at the victim having dropped the soap in our cruel American Prisons.  Buddy--keep up the hilarity, for you will get yours.  Your love of creature comforts will quicksilver you with much mercury into a stupefied state of Pandemonium.  Unless of course you sense the absolute nature of the Ultimate God and the lesser gods beneath Him, offering them the reverence they deserve.   

Catholic School, Butts Kicked, & Sister Shaq Diesel

   
   "Catholic School, Butts Kicked, & Sister Shaq Diesel"
    
   My history teacher, punishing me for an outburst I did not commit--even in that mistake of violence, I really didn't give a rat's ass, just let it awesomely propel my pulsating infamy.
   He, the history teacher, grabbed me from my desk, during the 9th grade mind you, threw me up against the chalk board, lashed me numerous times on my back with a yardstick; next, made me kneel on the heater, praying to the heater god for obedience.  Too, my Catholic Football Coach violently slapped my face-masked face for not tackling with a sincere intensity--good for the man-smelling Coach.  I suffered two fractures playing ball that freshmen year, and I initiated no litigation against the school.  A school where you could mystically invoke the Holy Spirit, God Himself, Christ, or the Virgin Mother without getting suspended or arrested.
   Better to be a spirited coyote nowadays, surviving on rabbit marrow, burping up and shitting the remains on your adversary's front porch during the sublime mischief of Halloween.  However, in today's America, CSI will test the fecal matter and you'll get three years in the sodomizing pokey; moreover, the liberal feminists don't give a holy damn concerning a man's intestinal tract suffering many megadeaths and the ruination of proper stool formation, ever-after.  What a great fucking country.
   Like when I crafted a bizarre yet magnanimous poem containing no fighting words, no clear and present danger; plus, it was ambiguous, and I was wrongfully threatened with the wicked dream of prosecution to appease the sanctimonious fiction of a mentally-deranged girl full of a fervent sex drive, contaminating my Bill of Rights with a condemnation birthed out of wounded pride.  Don't ever think it's over.  This life is just the womb, and it all comes back on you.  As for me--I was already kicked out of hell for selling ice cream.   

POST SCRIPT:  I love you Sister Shaq Diesel.    

Legion Infusion

   
   "Legion Infusion"
    
   Cut from Mom's belly; next, cooked to life in incubation like a skittish coyote and hijacked from my homeland, losing knowledge of my mighty cousins and uncles, forever.  Then, anchored in the southern region billowing with selfish hubris and peacock-like pageantry--if General Lee would've humbly plucked some feathers from his ornamental apparel, maybe his unappreciated soldiers would've had shoes.  These generals made due to wealth and status, not strategic wisdom.
   And now; plus, after 1,000 years before the Almighty cage can no longer contain the contagion of fear--they are implanted in us by terror, chips, blood, and an underground government that rewards our sinister leaders with demonic favors.  Yes, I'm a bit wacky.  So was Nietzsche and Little Saint Francis, though I am a dog compared to them.  And every Good Shepherd needs a sheep dog.  
   Regardless, the phobia concerning Christ--a half man infused by the Good Ghost, that Holy Spirit, possibly a feminine aspect gelled with the Almighty God--though one Abrahamic religion informs that it is not necessary to put the Gods next to God; indeed, God is the Father of the Multiverse.  But the Catholics and Orthodox are the True Christians save Tim Tebow; unfortunately, the demons hate his gladiatorial nature--look, some of us intensely need the mesh of the Holy Trinity and the four leaf clover that the Virgin Herself adorns with special miracles, as may the Russian Poet Pushkin give ode--and he did!
   But whether there is a singular demon or myriads--they fear the lack of caring for material gain and status as did the penniless Rabbi, Our Living Christ.   

Asymmetrical Nation

   
   "Asymmetrical Nation"
    
   Putin offers informative observations concerning Our America--police criminal mischief and brutish brutality!!!  Moreover, King David, the most read bard, has been robbed of imported elixirs and herbs for the ill-fated, a power hungry, hubris-filled government controlling our chance at comfort.  Try being sick.  Asymmetrical.  Shapeless.  Maybe you'll succeed like the fiction of Forrest Gump; maybe, probably--you will not!
   Violently maligned and shackled by the corruption of swine, bullied by the hot-tempered envy of others, their green eyes never shimmering effulgent like a supermodel; plus, we had an American President with dumb-shit intelligence, him maliciously murdering myriads of innocents in the Abrahamic God's special region, constructing wicked karma for our ancient settlers, before immigration flooded and morphed our country away from the settled and converted European kids who bravely defended us in World War 2, doing plenty more than serve the hate of nations, becoming a hated mix of malcontent misfits, for the most part--not all.  Forgetting our once great mantra:  "It's a free country!"  Indeed--no longer.  A quasi-police state, in the least.  Forgotten is the chaste, inviolate, caring Mother of God, women now fornicating into female mutations while their heart-broken men lose the synergy of true love.  And even supersymmetry can burst a change.  The wicked adder hacking into the creation of the Multiverse during God's resting period.  And we seek not the friendship of the Celestial Hierarchy, them heretical religions denying anything but the proud apex of God Himself, as if they deserve to be birthed brilliant, guardian angels losing human interest, and your parents terribly perish in a slow-burning death without knowing the pity and mercy of family saints.  We have forgotten unearthly clarity.  Where's the mercy--oh, I guess that's reserved for the weak, and then our proud leaders claim the benevolence of the Living Christ. 
   Remember:  We slaughter tens of thousands each year in America--the American Coyote.  The ultimate survivor, armed with a digestive tract that rivals the most obese of abusers.  The American Indian knew:  "He will bring God to man."    

The lipstick aesthetics of Fox News

   
   "The lipstick aesthetics of Fox News"
   
   Verily, I intently watch Fox News for physical arousal, horned to carnal completion by way of glistening lipstick orally delivering the sex appeal of tragic news, it casually oozing like painted glamour for those info babes having won the genetic lottery; on the other hand, I get my real, tangible news from the BBC worried over Merkel's insane ingestion of millions of immigrants not wanting to gregariously gel with German heritage, a love for the Nordic Deities; plus, everlasting hope for personal courage against the World Serpent.
   I don't particularly mind a seductive delivery of opinionated news, so unfair and unbalanced it makes Buddha's supernatural philosophy look like a circus only highlighting the bearded-lady with cottage cheese chunks in her ripply buttocks--this news channel so utterly disgusted by the necessity of shadows and light having utopia-like synergy.  Regardless, I find the death of print media, crafting my own internal jive, and I don't merely thank God, the Angels, or Saints, yet offer them the truth of their awesomeness.  

Union Blue: Ease My Pain Baby

   
   "Union Blue:  Ease My Pain Baby"
    
Come on baby,
Let's take a ride in my car,
We won't go far--
Just to the shade, where the pain fades away--
Hide me in that lovely shade,
Hide me in that lovely shade.
Psychotic thinking and heavy drinking,
Brings you down; makes you frown,
Paints your face into a saddened clown.
Wired minds and false inspiration,
Brings you nothing except for pain comes,
Think your a genius in disguise,
Only a fool riding the high.
Ease my pain baby,
Hide me in your shade,
Take my pain away--
Hide me in your lovely shade.

* * *

Indeed.  An adolescent croon from a bard hellbent on obtaining a sophisticated love.  But without a soul mate's comfort--it's never enough.  Bombarded nowadays by way of Internet images carnally showcasing marital disasters.  But--the sublime synergy of two engaged in the noble symphony of true love.  A team.  A union.  A chance at survival.  And what is better than to eternally survive, encompassed in a true love's saving embrace?    

Steampunking the girl at the bar

   
   "Steampunking the girl at the bar"
   
   Oh Red Sonja.  Come to me with your shimmering cascade of scarlet strength and anti-witchcraft boobs, you not bothering with wicked or even benevolent thaumaturgy, yet slaying with quicksand death the self-serving and gluttonous--those that feed on the freedom of others, slicing open their fat bellies with a swordwoman's corporeal suavity holding the friendship of promising steel.
   The West.  America.  North.  Canada electing a chance at freedom the other day.  Like American Free States, existing in the few--for now.  
   And I glimpse the crimson piece of luminous lass parked on sturdy stool, erect with points supporting various pivoted directions.  Young lady.  Notice the bard.  The animal-guided monk, drinking, yet getting to know John Barleycorn betterways, defunking the super-literary fruits to their leather pajamas, and the best wine is on the lips of a fiery woman.
   Totally.  Definitely.  Sonja.  Come to me.  Wrapped in the instinct of genius, when industrial steam does power technology, stealing away the magic before a revolution industrial, yet you are luminous and militarized, garbed in the "get" of gorgeous man gear, all to slay my lopsided heart.  
   Make a mild pass guys.  If she doesn't go for it--run like hell.