Breaking into Lucifer's Castle

Direct from a Dream of Breaking into Lucifer’s Castle

A feral scarecrow warms my bones to marrow with words of wisdom to atone. A grisly quicklist carol, past his wrath is zero warning posted. A cold nose-splitting wind blows fits. A blatant sigh for hero worship, Nero Wolf slipped.

Wait inside. Forlorn gates roasted. Disheveled metal held in place with rope--    made from faces ripped like leather hide with pikes. Weathered gate, this sight, reminds me just right, of Fate’s smoky grace of inescapable real estate. Welcome to Hades, I made my way through the haze to play, searching disturbed for words none other have ever heard just to come unfurled. It’s always just right there so I’ll give this nightmare a whirl to get sated, seeking verbs hidden yet tasted.

Every boneshard spike for me is some part of a precursor for strife beyond my risks to take. A fix of a heretic’s fray to kick start another parallel hell-split day. It’s like vitamins I need to get right again, indeed. Fueled for motion dynamically engaged. Dueling is my notion, a piranha enraged. A fascination with lacerations like a glass cave…               …shattering under duress.

My patience matters less, when abrasions saturate my flesh. Bits of shining red chips finding their way to slip…               …under my skin to tip a grin. Crimson stream strips away any need for hidden visions anymore. Or agendas of children orphaned and sore, forbidden widows winsome over their own killings. Maybe they’ll win some over their illings when losing their partners as departed led to extra shillings for Charon’s raft, to cross the river everlast.

Ions order us to stay safe, atoms continue to vibrate, every spell my tongue wakes. But this Pirate rake is on the way to meeting Dante. Scions from Lotus-san, photon Jerusalem, Cro-magnon Chopin to Voudon tell me to watch my play. Bespell me to keep 10% of my brain awake beneath dismay…                  …Alert with discrete forays into Hell’s Back Bay, complete over the hidden middle beat of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On?”

So I stay strong to what’s showing with aplomb. These tomes have been growing all wrong like Chairman Mao’s mass-used abuse of Falun Gong and innocent mongrels of Mongols to muddy gutters flung along in Revolution Number 1. When 10% is spent on what the fuck could go wrong and the rest is lent past being bent?

I’m in and invested to wrest and digest what assets could step to the test with crass jest. Giving my vast soul an asshole’s best, an agile outlaw I confess. Worth far more than any fragile unimaginative conservative’s meat when they bleat like a sheep, cleaved at the knees mess of flesh’s best invented interest, bereft of their crest.

90% better spent on a blood moon, bad weather smirk from womb to birthspark to final breath in the dark. Forget regretting a lark to connect with a lock. A closed door most implores whipping like a shark, slipping from porchrail up the vines and pole. Every nail I find twitches at the touch of a climbing sole, supporting my winding path weight whole.

Heartbeat under my control, four fingers and two feet find blind a balcony to shoulder roll! Land in a half-bridge, twisted from the snapping spine-popping whole! Knees to shingles, fingers mingle with duct tape and wires.

Linger with chisel and mallet, beveling glass like wooden toe points in ballet class, never tire! Glass window finally falls away, clever legerdemain for which I aspire.

Ledge wasn’t a pun that was let in but my entrance was as silent as Schroedinger’s strained cat that slipped in through the window on a whim! Palace of Sin was a challenge of talent!  Beginning and ending with balance like electron valances. But I play to win for the 10% grim and 90 certainly clever lent, better spent, so a sequel waits for Fate I sense. Who’s all in for another whirlwind of word spin?

Blinking takes up a sprinkling, wake to the night. Sparks in the dark is just fireflies in the park. Please, Porky stop scoping huh?! Like Ja's cornucopia, purple, syrup-full to serve your needs, no seeds, share with me, Mon Ami.

Flow easy, shoot the breeze, show the jesters from the Wild West to the killa bill collecta's from the belly of the beast in the East coast, roast and roll as one. Until all thrillers, killers, flow-spillers have our fill of the familiar kief and cheech filled reefer to cheef and stir 9 pointed leaf, but be on point against the police.

I hit the joint like a thinner sinner at Lynyrd Skynyrd's dinner with Mussel Shoals because we're all in the valley of the shadow! Bust the rally and never play callow, a clever player allows the truth to flow and follow through.

Cut and go when due to roll, through to flow just so.  Nostradamus’s silent notes and violent tempo posted like the vote of a ghost shows so. E tutto fumo e niente arrosto!

Distinguished English invested to test, extinguishing interests of splintered distress. Unwind your mind sense past the middle distance. Find your balance, challenging your talent, climbing a high fence. 5 kicks, 20 defenses, 10 tricks to flip over electric twitching maintenance wires…              ...displayed lattice style entire…      …covering bouldered walls without wincing. 1 fall to the balls, knees forever tense, wheezing for penance at every defiant call:

Incredibly appalled, now dense and defenseless. No longer easy at all. Associations of fear cause mental location to take a vacation it appears. You need to remember this: Choose your step, goose or pup, loosen up, boost your reps. No excuse for fret when laying in the cut!

Fit into your mission to get a rhythm with no decision beriddled in the middle of hidden heretic’s scare tactics. Practice this and outlast crass drama-gone wrong shit like God’s mom turned off his lightswitch!

Listen quick, be sickened slick, glistening murderous licks. Think you’re impervious to gore-imploring horrorverse? Next poem I rhyme winds into a cone so fine bamboo tips at every line dipped into curare will rip into your dome by the soft causeway near the costly cartilage of spine ridge…              …meeting cranial bridge glistening shine of your unused mind.

Now cut loose, your thoughts that pop off, slipping rampant from your hippocampus soak through my spoken blues to fill hungry bamboo shoots ending with the humbled beginnings of you!