Saltation

To die
To sleep
To sleep
Perchance to dream
Aye, there’s the rub
For in that sleep of death
What dreams may come

What if the light
Were actually darkness
And the darkness
Light?

Say God were sleeping
And sleeping
dreamt
A dream

Or say that God were sleeping
And one of his children made a mischief

Say God and his Asherah
Dream together
And while they dream
Entwined
One child were to play
Perhaps
A dark game?

The Squire of Gothos writ large

Say the wind
That blows across the Dark Plain
Lifts now this grain of sand
And then
That grain of sand
Sends it in saltation
Randomly striking
Now this grain
Then that

Shall then not a pattern arise
And from the random dance
Order appear

How odd

How futile is the Darkness
How pointless the Light

Death has its own smell

Death has its own smell
Once experienced never forgotten
Putrescine
Cadaverine
Apt names

How long do you think?

Long enough to start stinking.

Given the heat that wouldn’t be too long.

Yeah, maybe not even a day.

Not more that three. But that’s just a guess.

You see the Cat?

No

Maybe he beat us to this one?

I don’t think so

Why’s that?

No finger or handprint that I can see.
Huh. Right. I forgot. Unless it’s somewhere we can’t see?

I don’ t know, so far it’s always been on the left side of the face.

So we know he’s right handed

Most likely.

Huh.

The Coroner will tell us if there are marks anywhere else.

What the fuck is this guy after?

Wish I knew.

Twelve

“Wada ya know?”

“Not much.”

“Same. I’ll tell ya something.”

“What?”

“We got a serial killer here.”

“Yeah.”

“A really fucked up serial killer.”

“No shit. They’re all fucked up. But this one ….”

“Ya know. It ain’t unusual for a killer to collect souvenirs from victims….”

“I know, but eyes?”

“Yeah. That's really fucked up”

“The M.E. can’t figure how he does it.”

“What was it, looks like cautery?”

“Yeah.”

“This guy is getting to me.”

“No shit. Welcome to the club.”

“I mean I’m having dreams about this shit.”

“You might wanna talk to the Shrink.”

“I don’t know, I might.”

“I had this dream that there were twelve people who… who…”


“Yeah? Twelve who what?”

“I don’t know. I keep waking up.”

“Huh. Twelve right?”

”Yeah. Twelve, somehow the number twelve’s very important.”

“Twelve?”

“Twelve.”

Adversary

The lightning struck tower
The lightning struck tower
Bodies falling like leaves
From Autumn ripened trees
From parapets
From  ledges
From crenels
From merlons
Stone on stone

The Ashlar stones so beautiful
Beneath the morning sun
Carved from the bones of the earth
There shall be no iron tools used
To shape The Temple
Nor shall the sound of iron tools
Be heard within the boundary of
The City of God.

How odd that I
The Servant of God
Should somehow become
The Enemy thereof

Oh Man
Oh Folly
Tis the same thing
Would that you could listen
Still your wagging tongue
For but one moment
SHUT UP
And listen
But no

One who knows
Can split stone with water
and wood
Think on that

Theodicy

Ancient
Aged
The sky sepia
The wind thin, cutting,
blowing through
Instead of around
Oh time

There on the Great Bridge
The Dark City spreads before them
Empty streets
Empty buildings
Empty windows
Empty eyes
Watching

Somewhere out there
is The Street of Books
The Great Library
The Keeper of The Key
Behind blind panes
Pains
Shelf upon shelf
Row upon row
Spine after spine
Folio
Duo
Quarto
Octavo
Dry and dusty
Like the Great City

The Wind

The Darkness

Her eyes are flaming
When she speaks
Her breath glows like embers
Flying
Sparks from the fire
Of the house where Eldest sleeps

“Who is Anti Christ?”

“Who is not?”

The wind sighs and whispers about them
The Bridge
The City
There is the sound of great hammers pounding
Upon heavy anvils
Far away
Far below
Forging the links of the endless chain
The binding

“There is a problem when you have but one god, who is all good.”

“What is that?”

“The need for a Theodicy.”

“Theodicy?”

“If god is all good, how do you explain evil.”

“Free will.”

“Doesn’t work. No matter what you do, all evil returns to gods door, ultimately god must be responsible.”

“And?”

“In dualist thought there is no need for a theodicy.”

“Dualist?”

“A system where there are two opposed forces, good, and evil.”

“Separate?”

“Yes.”

“So god can be all good. Not responsible for the evil in the world.”

“Yes.”

“And The Other?”

“Is solely responsible for evil.’

“People can choose freely?”

“Yes.”


Her cloak moves in the wind
like the wings of a raptor
circling high
Eyes of flame
watching the ground below
for any sign of prey.

She closes her eyes
slowly
Turns her head
Opens them again
To gaze directly into his eyes
Her words float like embers
On the dark wind.

“Then there can be no certainty that good will win.”

"Yes."

Legion

Our name is Legion
for we are many

Spinning like a top
or the world
running down
Down
Down
Radiating away
all our goodness
Shining in the dark

Beneath The Temple
is a chamber walled with lead
Within which dwells
The Raging Darkness
Bound by chains of word
Spells If you will
Incantations
Enchantments
Chains wrought of air
and thought

Brehmstrahlung
When we move curving
towards the good
We radiate into The Darkness
Giving our light
to the Abyss

She is the Great Sea
She is the water of life
She is waves breaking
on the cliffs of death
Granite rocks
Black basalt
Dikes and sills
In the crack
An Iris blooms

Let us say
She was torn asunder
And from her was made
All that is
From whom was made
All that is not?

If you drive us from here
Will we not move there?
If we are driven from there
Will we not return here?

Truly
What is made
Cannot be unmade
What is done
Cannot be undone
The world is not a bed
Nor dirty dishes
To lather rinse repeat

Our name is Legion
For we are many.