Tag Archives: eternity

BEWARE: Read This Only if … Unafraid … of Being Afraid

Call me evil. Call me devil. Call me jinn. Call me whatever in the hell you want. I write; therefore, I am. This story (a poem within a poem, really), is really happening. Happy endings, on the other hand, are not happening … way more often … than not.

Halloween, my absolutely favorite day of the year, is, once again, upon us. In celebration thereof, I congratulate the overwhelming majority of you homo sapiens (lol) on your early-bird reservations. To update both unbelievers and skeptics alike on the goings-on here in my swell and swelling hell, read these poems in conjunction, as if they were, as they are; a diabolical, help-wanted, advertisement. No harm in that; after all, you shall … indubitably … believe me not.

Can you trust me to tell the truth? Of course not, sillies. I’m the evil one. I have malice in my heart, deceit in my thoughts and shall have lies, near perpetually … on the tips … of my tongues.

But this is not to scare you with the admittedly horrific details regarding my psyche, much less, my physique. Believe you me, they’re pretty scary. Rather, this is to scare you with rhyming lines about time consigned. Your time … wise guys … is near done.

A few prefatory notes to my want-ad-like-poems; firstly, make no mistake. Heaven, like hell, is a fact, Jack. In fact … no other place (but Heaven) … is eternal.

Secondly; believe it or not, contrary to popular belief, all you evildoers and non-believers DON’T join me, much less Him, immediately upon the termination of your worthless lives. It’s actually not until after Judgment Day that the festivities down here are scheduled to begin. If you don’t believe me, just re-read what the New Testament and Koran reveal … regarding … the infernal.

Finally, take note of this: You needn’t be much of an evildoer to join me. Being a non-believer is more than sufficient. And you don’t even have to submit a resume of your evil accomplishments, nor any notarized certification of your disbelief. Both misdeeds and/or disbelief … are continually recorded … for posterity.

Just let your deeds and your misdeeds, whether affirmative acts or omissions to act, speak for you. In the majority of cases by far, like me, you’ll fail. You’ll fail to love Him above all. You’ll fail to love your brother as you do yourself. Believe you me … you’ll fail … most miserably.

My power play, borne of vanity and jealousy, backfired on me. But like an AIDS-infected sex-addict, I’m going to take as many of you suckers as I can, down with me. The greatest of your generals have divided to conquer. It’s been much easier for me. In dividing yourselves, you’ve made my conquest of you … and your brothers and sisters … near effortless.

Just keep on keeping on. Keep on lying. Keep on cheating. Keep on denying that you’re your brother’s keeper. I’ve plagiarized the poem that follows from one of your own. As you read it, you may well nod your head in somber acknowledgement. Thankfully though, you won’t take it to heart … You’re doing just fine … To that … I do attest.

1 PAGE: # 18

In My reality and in twitterfiction, fiction becomes nonfictional and surreality, reality; seamlessly interchangeable … No wonder … insanity.

An insanity largely borne of (all humility aside), Godlessness … It’s what Me’s seen repeatedly repeated … since Cain slew Abel … initially.

Almighty Me wouldst ask of each and every one of thee, “Were thee Me, what wouldst thou do? Me’s done run out of patience verily … with a lot … of the lot … of you.”

Barbarousness and wickedness (thanks to My illustrious messengers over nearly forty centuries … and today’s internet) may now be … minimized … alchemically.

Yet warm-blooded reprobates yet play tag-team with cold-blooded corporate proxies, minorities, one percent … intent on ruling roosts … surreally … perpetually.

BBT (Ben, Bo & Twit, aka, Twitter); get with the program; those tweets we shared weren’t hoax (hopefully for you) … as you’d hoped … but rather … for thee … hope.

Hope for thee and the rest of the roost … for from the roost, came thee. Me fears temporally though … where you’ll spend … eternity.

1Page: # 10

Arthur Everman, angel trainee, trained his shaded eyes away from My direct (some say) steely gaze … He knows God’s gonna do, what God’s gotta do … anyway … really.

Arthur, wings clipped (& beside himself emotionally), was only but physically beside Me … He’d forever be butt … of jokes & jibes … for all … of eternity.

He & and his alkie critter pals (pursuant to heavenly protocol) were fairly unfairly … of shiny wings  stripped. Unfortunate. The Sexy Six … had waxed well … poetically.

Demoted for seasoning to the minor leagues (at Olympus), he’d have to withstand … heavenly drudgery, yet another year … the heavenly drudgery that’s life … for angel-trainees.

My story’s history, education’s alchemy & any who’ve tweeted or retweeted, either to Arthur, or Myself, maybe soon … in bookstore … buy book … or store.

Who’s the author of your reality & the reality of everything & everyone, past present & future … beyond it? … And who gets to … by virtue of His power … empower?

You can thank Me (God) later, if we do (lol), see one another, hence … Beckons implausibility;  extreme Art … a tanked crew … & a treaty … ‘tween Kim Jong Un … & Me.

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