CROW

I am founder of the BRPS Black Rose Poets Society. We are an exclusive group of writers who like to stretch the boundaries of writing to provoke thought and visceral emotions within people. We write poetry, short stories and novels.

Tea With A Demon

Sitting in the coffee shop reading Voltaraine De Cleyre ?I am?
The scent of Columbian beans brewing in pure water
Mahogany small desks, dusty books a glass case filled with pastry
Dimmed lights and educated chatter
Echoing from the aged walls that have covered many a PhD

Spoons gracing cups with soft stirs and clanking sounds
Lovers exchanging hushed conversation in the shadowed corners
Old men enjoying chess on warn wooden boards

Out of the shadows comes a strange man unnoticed by others
Tall, bland, rather unremarkable wearing a rain coat
Funny how you remember the little things
The scents, the shimmer of sunlight, and the way a girl smiles at you

I introduce myself as Enlil de palizon of course
You see when you have coffee with a demon never use your real name
It?s the first rule of black magick and the rules are very important
He called himself Enzu but I am sure he has many names
He preferred a honey lemon tea with a bit of orange peel

We exchange contrite conversation for some time
All leading in circles as this is the second rule of black magick
Never ever lead a demon in straight talk
He is much older and wiser then you
Using truth and lies he will draw you away from the arrangement
Into something far worse and of course to his benefit

As I sip this delicate blend of rich dark coffee we get down to it
Immortality through writing in exchange for ?.
Well that is not important but nothing as bland as my soul
He slips the price to me in a note written on the finest cotton parchment
Which I calmly pocket with indifference

He slowly rises bidding me a good day and a crooked smile
Taking care of the perfunctory displays of civil conversation he departs
Leaving his tea and me to relax in a pool of stagnant air

There you have my story my dear
Well the beginning anyway
If you desire more you must meet me here
Every Wednesday around 3 in the afternoon for the next 3 weeks

Rising from the old chair I wish her a good day
The young girl folds her Journal smiling beneath rimmed glasses
Her craft writing of course and her desire fame
To see her words read by others?by everyone touching many hearts

Sitting back she watches the steam rise from the cup of tea
A orange peel drowning in the honey lemon mixture
Funny how everything new feels so pure
Until you read the note in your pocket

Crow©2005

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Pans Gift

Pan’s Gift Minstrels dance before the fires of Hephaestus
Orange, gold, crimson flames forge the flutes of pan
Silver and Gold dripping of wine leaves and carved acorns
Slowly worked by ancient hands to awaken nature with their song
As Vulcan’s hammer echoes through lush green woods
Drawing fawns to its melodic beat

Sitting back against a large rock sipping Bacchus wine
Cool, crisp, crushed from the richest purple grapes
Taken from lush green vines planted by Dionysus himself
I put the bottle on the moist dark rich earth soaking in nature
Feeling its power flow through me and all that is

A Saffron sky ablaze in flames before the twilight hours
Purple crested mountains roll majestically into foggy valleys
Shimmering waters drip from twisted trees
Running from the carved cliffs falls of crystal
Enchanted pools and lakes of placid beauty

A stream plays its ancient song at my side
Whispering passions sweet kiss from Venus lips
Running through reeds, over rocks and fallen branches
Twisting among the water lilies and bathing frogs
As the forest and water melt together under Aphrodite’s winds
Moaning in the shadows

Pan sits waiting for his newest flute
Reading the poem I pen for him from ancient quill
His eyes a soft deep green shimmer as he scans the parchment
His thick curling black hair adorned in a crown
Golden oak leaves and acorns twisted upon vines of ivy

From his finger he takes a ring of silver
Carved with the face of the green man and pans very flutes
Ancient as though worn a thousand years and one day
The four elements infused in its living metal
Melted and bound in earth, air, water and fire

He hands it to me as Diana’s Moon burns from shadowed branches
The night has taken this place of oak, maple, birch and elm
I hear Artemis stir awakened by the flutes of the coming fawn
Pan rises with a playful smile disappearing into the mist

The crickets play a soft symphony
The cool winds blow through scented pines
As the ring I take forever mine placing it on my finger
Flying upon the winds of song from a gold and silver flute just born
To slumbers nest I rise to play among the stars from ancient days
In this world of visions pure I see Pans gift forever more

Earth, Air, Fire Water
In me they all reside and I within them
A child born of nature’s womb delivered by cosmic hands
As is the silver ring I wear
Forged within the myth of time a child of the true divine

Crow©2006

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Forever In The Darkness

Forever In the Darkness The scent of bleach burns my nose
A sterile darkness fills this place
The room black as pitch except for a line of light
Beneath the door
I hear them moving in the blind spots
Creeping things, stinging things, those that hurt me at night

A little dead girl in white comes to me with red eyes
Her coffin dress stained with fluids of some kind
Her breath of rotted teeth makes me vomit
She hands me a dull razor covered in dried blood
As I hear the insects coming closer
Ever closer across the floor

I feel the sting of their pumping abdomens
The scratching of their legs
Centipedes, hornets, scorpions, spiders of all sizes
Injecting me with venom
Feeding on my live flesh as I scream
Struggling locked to this hospital bed
Help Me God
But he never comes does he?

A dwarf with no legs slithers toward me
His bloody stumps leaving a trail
Hatred in his eyes as he screams
Released from hell to find pleasure in my pain
Ripping at me as his eyes role back white
Pulling my hair
Feverishly trying to choke me

The little girl laughs and dances in her shinny black shoes
As I take the razor screaming as my flesh swells and burns
It will not end ever
Help Me God
To the silence
I feel the steel cutting deeper into my veins
Releasing my anguish unto the floor in iron scented red
Pumping my sickness away from me

The nurses come in screaming for some doctor
Paging Dr. Sanity clean up on isle 12
I smile hoping it’s over
Help Me GOD
Nothing
Get them off of me I yell beating the air
The rush of a needle pulsing into me
Sedating me
As I fade into the static white of a lone neon bulb
Forever in the darkness

Once you set your foot on the path there is no turning back

Sometimes the light can only be seen through the darkness