Rule

I think I swallowed a demon.

Snuck on a spoon or washed on a wave of tea. A tiny black, what else would it be, demon that took up residence in a small shadowed corner of my mind.

Every little wrong, any stupid human blunder he snatched with little clawed hands and nibbled at me round my edges.

So my demon got fat. And my demon got strong. The little wrongs grew big but only on the inside. The blunders became failures, each more predictable than the last. I knew I would fail before I even began.

The memory of my demon is great. Any humiliation, fall, mockery or mistake is there in cinema-screen-full-HD-on-demand whenever you don’t want it. He projects it behind my eyes.

And so it goes. On and on again.

Now my demon is fat and content, lounging like the old king he is. He rules with the wave of a hand, a short cold laugh and one cruel word.

I am paralysed. A subject, obedient. Because I once swallowed a demon.

But content kings grow lazy. No reign can last forever.

Quietly, there will be an army.

 

 

 

In all the Wonder, I am Lost

So, you find a demon.
Tamed, granting wishes,
Golden rings, silken webs.
Please keep its tricks
From me.

You find an opal eye.
Seeing our time,
All places forever.
Please do not come
Looking at me.

And you find a flower.
The moonlight petals can
Wake me from my death.
Please don’t bring this
Beauty to me.

When
You find your reflection.
And know it. 
To be just you.
Then please.
Find me too.

The Spirit Eater

As the smoke
Danced through
Yellow teeth.
I smiled
To see the
Shapes they made.

The figures that
Span and fell.
Animals fled and
Pranced.
All
With just a
Tar clad grin.

And still I remember
Them now.
Writhing in those
Dark gaps. 
Many years
Passed. 

Realising. 
Finally. 
They were
Never
smoke.

Every Cloud In a Dark Sky

Oh yes.
It rains here
Every day.
He said.
While smiling.
Or crying.
I could not
Tell in the
Rage of falling
Crystals.

What we have done,
To make the sky fall.
A god heave and sob.
Or that demon spit.
We do not know.

But I carry on.
For one day,
There will
Be sun
Through the rain,
And I will
Finally see
That rainbow.

The Man Who Knew Everything About Nothing

It’s not enough.
I’m not complete.
I need to know more.
To absorb it all.
He wept so earnestly.
Endless night upon day.

Now honest wishes,
Are always heard.
But the kindness
Of the listener
Cannot be promised.

So if a man appears.
Begging at your door.
Who looks one thousand
In years or more.
Do not give him money.
Food is meaningless too.
Pass him a fact.
Or share your thoughts.

For he was granted his plea.
And will travel this earth.
Until he can say.
There is nothing more
To know.

It’s Fun In Here

A king rules on yet,
He shares his land with
An elegantly despicable
Jet black dragon, who
Still meets often
To talk with demons
Of their familiars
And to spin tales that will
Become myth and legend
In the blink of an eye
That marks the turning
Of centuries for men.
There choices are made and lives
Are chewed and spat out.

While all the time,
From the outside,
I look like I’m
Just thinking
About this world
And you.