The Lighthouse Beam

Our journey starts the die was casted it was ingenious yet indigenous to our past, casting shadows over station shoals then hear the cries of seamen when it’s beam unfolds. We our outward bound now let the fishing begin, as our nets are filling fast it looks like a win.

Gusty drizzle in the cloudy freezing wind as an electrifying cyclone is on it’s way in, the thunder streaking across bleak sky’s as men hurry for home in this people die. A gale has slammed this sturdy fishing trawler, the worried eyes! of men we can’t make it much farther.

Violent seas erupting over her vital railings, she has a fighting heart but she’s failing. The battering! sea it ferociously feeds, the crew is defiant! still they bleed. The blood curling screams! of man overboard, we scrambling needlessly our friends are no more. The seas lurch! this is not for the faint of heart, a shipwreck will kill diligently in the dark.

Disdainful recognition of this watery grave, when the sea claims her dead it’s intensely depraved. The useless electronics our compass was on the sway, this beaten up sixty footer is death on it’s way? Broken! docile men now waiting to go under, our limping little trawler awaits the seas plunder.

Then a gigantic flash! It’s the lighthouse beam! saying this is the way home I stand supreme.

The Bend In The Road

In this theory of ever changing life I’ve been told comes the time of the bending of the road, many expectations will give way to neglect, un-used persuasion will turn into regret. The many causes of death to a dream the lack of action is just one yet extreme, lacking truthfulness in one’s falseness of heart, lay the foundation for many false starts.

I make no accusations I have no hidden quest, to each life must render what they think is best. Those anxious thoughts in reluctant deeds, giving way to ill-tempered wants mix with destructive needs. What disdainful discreet would determine the road bends to left for you then right for me, idealistic! does it matter, one’s own ignorance is a factor, then who is this unknown benefactor.

Jealousy can be in play as one’s indifferences will give way, impartiality! who can say, each life has a road and each person may carry a different load, I’m sorry was that much to bold life can be so very cold. Please way in we’ve been on the same road long enough to be friends until the road bends. Will you change your course? following the bend maybe worst, to each man with a choice, well it’s been intellectual or antagonistic, here comes the bend in the road, it’s just got realistic.

THE LACK OF REDEMPTION

(A Short Story of Tragedy! Revenge! And It’s Tragedy! Part 1 )

THE TRAGEDY

March 20th, 1961 the first day of spring in Boston, Massachusetts this Atlantic Coastal region of the United States, where the vile violation of rape! stripped innocence! the twisting of comprehension, leading to the lack of redemption. Which brings us to a Miss Peggy Williams, a thirty one year old six full feet of blue eyed blond exotic passion, a titillating! tantalizing tidbit whose hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back, ending just before covering perfectly round firm mounds of buttocks.

Peggy was the second child of three, both parents were professors at Boston College dappling in politics and social issues within Boston’s elite, living in a well to do enclave on upper west side. Peggy was now a very polished and well educated manipulator with upper class family contacts, accustom to bending the world to will. She lived in a well to do triplex on the upper west side, she drove your standard upper class convertible and her home came complete with all the amenities of privilege.

But Peggy had a dark sinister side, it could only be found on the wrong side of the gates of hell. She was now a spoiled, spiteful! she-devil with a morbidness matched only by a twisted disturbed child tormenting small helpless animals. Peggy’s state of being can be traced back to her reoccurring flash backs, the devastation in Peggy’s violation.

18 years ago at 13 years old Peggy Williams was a smart and carefree young lady who went to William Wright’s finishing school, were the elite go to learn how to rule over the ruled. On a fateful sunny day she would encounter an Carl Wheaton, the janitor at the school, a repugnant man of dubious background with his own monsters crawling within. Peggy was heading to the deans office no doubt to receive ever more praise for her after school activities of leadership.

While walking pass a supply room a hand suddenly covered her mouth, Carl Williams have pulled Peggy into the supply room placing a knife at her throat. Duct tape replaced the hand then Peggy’s hands were bound and then it began, now stripped naked Carl had cut her cloths from her body like a master chef.

He forced Peggy onto her knees rapping one of her long blond ponytails around his hand pulling Peggy’s head back. Carl with his other hand exposed himself then bent down with a savage thrust entering Peggy, the sodomy would begin it would be brutal to the end. Peggy had to endure this savagery all while being suffocated by the nauseating stench of Carl’s body order for the lack soap and water. Carl began to whispers vile obscenities into Peggy’s ears as the sodomy continued unabated, like a mad dog in heat Carl began to lick Peggy’s face like she was just meat.

Peggy knew she had to keep from throwing up, tape covered her mouth but the foul smell of Carl’s breath, the lost of her dignity what was left. Carl released himself inside Peggy and with no pity he just dress then left, she laid there now shattered! she was broken. Peggy was in a transfixed state, her mind trying to reject her new reality and in that moment a seed took root, Peggy’s plan was at hand while trying to understand this new burning hate for the common man.

My Enter Tomb

It started! my blood is pounding weary veins

it’s gripping sting, the skin wrapping this pain.

That drip! drip! drip! sound that’s in my head

this prelude to the darkness that lays ahead.

 

My eyes now sunk in from the lack of sleep

this cringing sensations has started it’s creep.

Cold nights with the howling of the north wind

as blackening sky muffling thy cries from within.

 

Childhood memories flickering flash! then crash

visions of my past, this rash of unwanted trash.

Wood floors squeak then squelch on there own

my heart stops for the search but I’m here alone.

 

Still I can hear the whispers of things never said

ash white colored walls are just right for the dead.

The rain pours before swirling leaves in the wind

they scratch, thump! this pounding to come in.

 

This horror of hollow ever more pills do I swallow,

they stop those voices in my head, so I don’t follow.

Slowly closing dark window shades as I remember,

how the light in my life died! this past November.

 

Casting aside all those who would ever know me,

this crawling inside from the hell that haunts me.

Terror! torments me, an ugly wound am I doomed,

receding into my cocoon now entering my tomb.

 

The Night Of The Bite

It was a clear cool night that was full of hallucination, as I slept my body convulse to those unknown anticipations. This dark shroud descending upon me was complicating my dream’s revelations, that was the reason for my hesitations.

Then this raven hair beauty with cat eyes that had a red rose color hue! that was my clue, she stood before me emitting this steamy sense of vulnerability, I could sense her burning hostility, that was the end of my tranquility.

She glazed upon my nakedness as the wolf would the lamb there I am, she stripped me of the last of my inhibitions, it was the end of my transition. Slowly she advanced upon me while I laid on display, she would have me her way.

Gently she kissed me upon my forehead but nothing was said, still my legs spread! then she fed.

 

Let Ye’ Be Not Forsaken

I stumble along on thy internal path, why can’t I see! then how long will it last? a story through time now that has passed, scornful my deeds now that I’m tasked. These unknown meanings  in my wasteful dreams, provocatively tormenting my rotting seams.

That’s twisting my faith in this higher power, those preposterous claims now dying by the hour, the loathsome voices in a trifling breeze, hear! this beggar pleads drowning in is own sleaze. Submerged heart it’s death! and the damned! this blacken hole is my promise land.

Plunging caverns into the depths of hell than predicting my arrival who can’t tell, he is vicious he’s vile! call him Satan! the looting of poor souls and the pain that’s waiting. Obnoxious torture but I’m already dead, the debauchery you can see now here comes the dread.

It’s relentless oh help me my merciful lord, the devil’s echoing laughter! just brings on larger hordes, violently awaken! from this dream and horribly shaken! what does it mean, now I know I can’t be forsaken oh God I’m on my knees and ready to be taken.

Death! On To Thee

Though thou be cast out upon tainted waters

seek not the wickedness of thy brother.

Know the innocents of the lamb laid before the altar

then cry not! less ye’ to will be slaughtered.

Will this weltering heart know of no loving dreams

then pluck the eye from the naked skull of a child unseen.

Hear the cries in the lost thoughts of our fathers before

then reap the anguish in darkness now closing it’s door.

What of these sicken minds from those lost wasting souls

speak not of cold hollows of our brethren hiding in the folds.

Couple the breast of the harlot! if it be thy last will

want not more! before your death be revealed.

Bipolar!

This is a docile day for my demise

endless inflexible days woven together into a disjointed maze.

I’m lashing out thy anxious state of mind

the intermissions in my prescriptions reasoning is hard to find.

As I watch the ebb and flow of my consciousness

this curse! the shadows in my disorder, they called it Bipolar.

I linger with in my own manifestations,

Problematic! the deteriorations in regulating life’s integrations.

I’m receding while my anguish suckles anxiety,

debilitating darkness of despair drugs! now twisting my reality.

Now descending! into the bowels of my enter sanctum,

hearing voices in my head, do I tranquilize them or face the dread.

Those inventive fortifications in my desperations,

now rejecting the world and the hospitalization for this devastation.

My tears and pride then the languishing fear inside,

I cast away the confines of hope, an enduring sentiment still I can’t cope.

Now thrust into the abyss! the end will be bliss!

The forsaking of God’s rules, intolerant my darkness in death I still lose .

 

 

 

 

 

Stranger!

It was a cool night the pavement was still wet from an earlier rain, the moon was high in the sky now shining bright! that indescribable light. The streets were empty! lined with bars, restaurants and coffee houses, life as it happens inside there was bustling action and then it happen. That unmistakable clacks of high heels stabbing concrete, I couldn’t see her complete in the shadows across the street. Wanting more if I was able while sitting at my table, then a click before a flash of light! that cherry glow of her cigarette as our eyes met. She moved into the light in front of the bar now glowing at night, Her blond hair those red rose colored lips! I was transfixed. Gleaming at every inch of her slender body she flashed a smile then flicked her cigarette! I accept, I  Moved toward her like a predator! hungry and demanding more. Then her playful smile turned to apprehension! my burning passion instigated that situation. I moved right into her space not a word was said! our eyes played tug of war in stead. This was naked aggression, her breast pulsated with anticipation, then she parted her lips, her wet tongue beckon me to come get this, So I drew in a deep breath to catch the scent of her hair now traumatized I doubt if she cares.

God’s Will

It be a bitter thought tangled among twisted weeds, the mocking of spiritual wants confessions are not of our needs. Objective these dismissive hearts ceremoniously they will bleed. The ending of paranoid haunts profound are their repugnant deeds, vibrant are these insightful visions, enlighten ecclesiastic kind of reasons. Churning oh white water seas now baptizing our new devotee’s, vexingly poignant are the noble pleads still hesitantly thy bending of shaky knees. Silence! thy noble shepherd the discipline in securing this reference. This pilgrimage with reverence is the foundation of the experience. Faith! is my eternal claim, guidance is the keeper of the flame. There is resentment with indifference! be skeptical of their persistence. The divinity of god’s deliverance, be vigilante in your perseverance. Infallible is God’s love with eternal life from far above. The purity of permanent reassurance, a soul sustained on divined reverence, reveals it’s ritual revelations of this society of great degradation. Relative is this restrictive realization yet precociously perverse in its preservation. The serenity solace in our salvation, the secular seeking of the sanctification. Forever sensing our denunciation, the sublime source of our interpolation.

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