Giving Devils

Can I give…
just so I can breathe in your enchanting voice
cascading sweetly into…

Only for a moment I want to remember
I want to experience

I don’t think it was so long ago
when the only catalyst separating
fantasy from reality
was a hopeful step off the edge of perception.
Back then we could plummet into possibility
into realization
into…

I know that somewhere wishes are granted and fairy dust is more
than just glitter adorning the shoulders of those the devil
kindly blessed…

SHE WAS…
something real
an incarnation most tangible
flesh and blood
(if it is possible for emotions to manifest themselves into a righteous vessel).

Or WAS SHE
a synaptic misfire?
A ghost in the machine of my neurological nightmare
Like a Freudian slip only

SHE WASN’T…
my mother or my dysfunctional psychosexual development.
These can be cured with pills,
but those tiny offerings of escape made her vividly real
-a fallen angel-
burned into my holy memory
a vexing harbinger of shadows to come.

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About Universal Shift

I am the Sonata Unusual. I coat myself with some obtuse angle too far below zero to become any warmer. I create motivation, activate schemas, moisten gardens with scents of natural honeydew. Construct this meaning, you sleepy flock. Silence your singing—despairing contortions out of tune. Shatter the brittle butterfly glass with your hideous wailing. I am born of my god’s imagination. When I die I shall meet him. For there are many things to discuss over tea…or scotch.

Posted on October 17, 2012, in Author, Fiction, Philosophy, poetry, Religion and Spirituality, Spirituality, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Heck yes.

  2. Its provoking… I am provoked to ask … tell me about it 🙂
    About the words: You know how to knit words so well… I feel lost in them!

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