Storm Child (Pulse Of Levitas Telum)

"The trouble ain't that there is too many fools, but that the lightning ain't distributed right." -

Mark Twain

Storm Child

(Pulse Of Levitas Telum)

I’m trapped underneath these dark-grey storm skies. Waiting for my birthright fate to realize- a purpose or a dream that God had for me, when my mom conceived this unaware baby. Well, the tapping rainstorm and thunderous skies lifts this shivering body back to life. I’m following the boundaries of the pouring rain, in this forest that never appears the same. My eyes are locked with anticipation, due to my storm sky fascination. My heartbeat throbs with a lightning clash, I’m possessed to pursue Nature’s mortal tasks.

I, the tree of tranquility, born with a face of humanity. I, the seed of fertility, grown in the membrane of your darkest fantasies. And underneath these angry thunderstorms, powerful beings push to be born. So, free your spirits to the floating isles and renounce your mortality to the storm child.

She who shall let thou eyes behold the lightning bolts retrieve thy soul. She who shall purge thy earthborn heart and submerge it into the dark. A sovereign who rules the upward earth, whose prayers favor mortal hurt. A pervert goddess who churns the winds, whose bolts target mortal men. Her spurts of magic are attracted to lighting rods. She is an alluring succubus to all the other gods. A hellish majesty cursed with the menstrual cycle of the female breed. A heartless, seductress beast whose alerted eyes meet behind the sparking orbs of electricity.

She is the dragon that guards these battled skies from the intruders that collide inside her kingdom. She is a queen that flies on temper tantrums from her cloud throne in her stormy sanctum. And I shall participate to persuade the inflictions of her parade of pandemonium. There is no need for an introduction- for an angel with a chemical imbalance of destruction. Lighting chaos. Wind havoc. Rain mayhem. Malevolent addict, let your intimidating lighting bolts strike upon their harvest grounds. Let fires ablaze and give birth to the flaming gardens that shall soon surround. Madly striking your topaz staff from your royal throne. Upon your head, a crown composed of branching thorns of lightning bolts. Forfeit thy fragile bodies and submit thy feeble brains to the witch with a twitch for human redemption and a sprinkle of insane.

I am breathing with another’s breath. I am feeling with another’s skin. I am gazing inside hazy storm eyes, hearing my voice chant for immortal sins. My arms are lifted toward the skies, fingertips pulling without my mind. I am someone else at this hour in time, perhaps a storm child on this earth, confined. I can hear your thundering dragon growls crackling behind the grey storm clouds. Your dangerous flashes alight these lands with such a deadly beauty that I can understand.

I, the robed wanderer who journeys my life away. You, the unseen archer that darkens the sun of day. A turban wrapped around my head, the winds blow my shredded cape while I climb up the highest mountains in search for my escape. And YOU, my beautiful, imperial queen. Just PLEASE break these heavy chains of HUMANITY!

Such soft lips overlap mine in a slow, intimate kiss. A mysterious, shrouded face in the rain’s clouded mist. I admit defeat in her embrace of tingling intimacy, while she ravenously took away my earthborn virginity. My spirit followed her up to the dark clouds aligning, while I looked down and saw my lifeless body, electrocuted by her lightning. I crossed over into a kingdom built in the imagination of mortal horrors and twisted pleasures. There, my soul shall be kept forever above the warring, storm clouds of mother nature.

(The picture of Lightning above is copyrighted by Torsten Hufsky.)

Mummified, Yet Still Alive.

Mummified, Yet Still Alive.

And I opened up my heavy eyes to the darkness that had plagued the skies. Nooses swinging from the cherry trees. I know I will not be able to break free- from the scavengers squandering pieces of my life. Go ahead bully, intimidate me. Let me see what your parents are like in reality. Because I’m locked inside a childhood state wanting to get bit by the cobra snake. This is all a dream. The zombies have won and they are taking our heads to decapitate. And I am ready to be gagged by an apple, so red. So I can be put on a plate, and be fed to the cannibals. They say that a phoenix will bust out of the egg, that is the sun. They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, but I have judged the book cover that you hold dearest to your son.

They say that a parade is coming, coming to pronounce me king. My mind always whispers to me, desires of such things. I got on their carousel made with skeletons of rotting horses. As the contraption spun me around, I began to see a blurry world of evil forces. Everyone I had met, thus far, were mutating into evil beings. They were manipulating naive children and playing with their feelings. I wasn’t going to be dizzy any longer on this suicidal carousel- that opens up the skins of cobras and exposes their inner-hell. My skinny, skeleton pony galloped over dessert dunes, in search for worthy people that could hum to snake charmer tunes.

Pyramids of corrupted evil. Pyramids of living dead. Pyramids of Egyptian Gods, still living inside your heads. Some died of thirst, and some fleshed out Pharaoh’s curse, but how can these entities be as cruel as the “mummies” living in YOUR universe? You people live like mummies. You are so fixed and so controlled. You wrap the world in ribbons of your own blindfold. You people live like dummies guarding the treasures of old. We are the humanoid jackals of night who bite off the heads of imbeciles. Through crawlspaces of temples, you hear us murmuring riddles- to resurrect ancient sphinxes and scarab beetles. A shadow creeps over your land in the body of a plague. As children drown in the swallowing quicksand, I know that they all cannot be saved.

To live in this denial age, just lower your hand into the cage. Stability and tranquility will help you stare into the cobra’s face. Hypnotize the viper’s deceptive eyes, but if you fail, you shall surely die. The sandstorm spins scarabs inside the ancient vortex that shall shred you alive. Your carrion shall quell the appetites of the vultures that guard the desert skies. And if your strong enough to survive, you have to challenge the sights of Horus’s eye.

The falcon flies around the piercing point of the pyramid. Will you sink into the glimmering sands, like all of the others did? The mystic hieroglyphics glitter upon the temple’s walls. Will you be there beside the Doberman Pharaoh as he watches your humanity fall? The animalistic Gods and Goddesses shall make their long awaited return while the candles of Egypt’s past quietly burn.

Is your friends camouflaged behind a serpent-skin facade? Is your life camouflaged behind a dreamy mirage? Splash some water in your eyes, so you can see- that your world is being overrun by mindless mummies.

You people act as zombies wrapped in preservation cloth. You people live like mummies worshiping the salvaged remains of an ancient tome, still lost. So, put me on your prayer list. Let them know that I exist. I bare many burning welts due to the rugged leather of the bible belt. So, whip me like a Pharaoh’s slave. Tell me how I need to think. Board me up ‘til no escape. Yet, the cobra’s venom still burns through my veins. You people live like mummies, you will never evolve through time. You will never adapt from anything, than thinking with “one” mind.

Angelic Sister Of The Garden

Candace Gayle Dodd

February 4th 1981 - May 13th 2010

I wrote this short writing in memory of Candace Dodd, Rachel’s sister and best friend. Not a lot of people can understand how quick of a bond that two individuals can have, Rachel and Candace is a prime example. They both longed for a father in their life, and when he perished, Rachel and Candace met for the first time since childhood. Their devastating loss brought them together. Most siblings are not as close as Rachel and Candace were. They understood each other on so many levels. She was so beautiful and full of life. No one will ever understand why Candace had to leave us that night. She fell asleep beside Rachel on May the 13th; she didn’t wake up four hours later. As reality slowly hit Rachel, she acknowledged that her life would never be quite the same. It never will be. Candace was her best friend that she confided everything to, everything that the rest of the world would not understand. Candace was the last person to read my novel. She told me that she liked my creative writings. Well, this one is all for you Candace. You meant so much to me and Rachel.

(Side note: This writing is a direct sequel to a writing called, “The Garden That Bloomed.”It was about their father. The “garden” represented in this writing is symbolic for a place of tranquility, such as heaven. The “three” flower blossoms represent Rachel’s, Candace’s, & their father’s spirits.)

Angelic Sister Of The Garden

(Serenity, Never Doubt My Love For You.)

Beyond the fence of this enchanted orchid, bluebirds are perched upon unreachable limbs. Above your head, there they sit, chirping to soothe mortal’s mournful hymns. They claim that an angel came and took her away with a distraught face that resembled her daddy’s. She was born with a throbbing heart of life, but even the purest of hearts are sacrificed. Her smile was a symbol of serenity, and her memories shall live on through eternity. Open your pretty, mortal eyes.

Watch her smiling, laughing, and guarding mortal ties. From a garden, she watches you struggle and strive in a broken world called the human life. She knows that you love her, she knows that you care, she just wishes that she could be with you there.

She was born into a world so damp and hollow, but she found her lost sister in a funeral home of sorrows. When their brown eyes met- could it finally be, that their lives were destined to be complete? They filled the voids in each others hearts, while a piece of their life was falling apart. They searched the world for one to understand- the emptiness because of this man. Undeniable, yet so beautiful. Two pure hearts that are so inseparable. Two twin statues rejoined through a loss. A tragedy for a miracle. An unfair cost.

So let’s sing something worth singing. Let’s show the world “her” meaning. Let’s just sing something worth singing, before “her” last suns a gleaming. The butterflies are fluttering and the treetop is teetering. Let’s just sing something worth singing before her final moons a beaming.

Pink flower buds bloom from the high arms of a tree- which hangs off of a ledge at a dangerous degree. The winds release three and set them free and they float into the currents of a slithering stream. And from that winding stream to the cerulean sea, they reconnect upon the shore of a peaceful beach. And together they shall form humanity’s seed. Together forever, entwined inside the bark of a tree, shut out from the world, sleeping for all eternity. Through the blazing light of the golden sun to the ghostly light of the silver moon. All plants have stories, all plants have places, all plants have lives in the garden that bloomed.

She says like a whisper to her little sister, “Embrace me until the end of time. I will forever be by your side. You haven’t lost. Some cannot be saved. Our love and understanding cannot be erased.”

The tranquil angel emerged up through the garden's flowers. Where fireflies attempted to light up this darkened world. You were all alone, but she was actually standing there for hours- just trying to save the little girl.

The Car (Dead Man's Cliff)

THE CAR (DEAD MAN'S CLIFF)

Burning off the obsessive smell of gasoline, I am the car that travels through life, and gets damaged by weather and oncoming traffic. I am the driver-operated machine that stops for turning cars, pulls over for emergency vehicles, and waits for the turning, arrow light. My body is made of bendable metal. It gets dinged by hailstorms and all of the damaging things that hit me. For some of you, I may have been driving too fast, and now you are the insects being smeared by my windshield wipers. I get abused by my drivers. They sometimes take their day’s anger out on me- which leads to burnt cigarette holes in my seats. Sometimes, I feel like a mistake- by the many times that you have spilt your drinks on me. Sir, these stains are still cloth-deep. There’s a bottle of fabric cleaner in the backseat. Why don’t you just clean me up, WHY?

Isn’t my transportation services worth the satisfying sprinkles of a good carwash? Don’t I sometimes deserve to be sparkly clean for the sporty cars cruising down West Boulevard?

My steel, heart chamber wants to explode- because you’re neglecting on changing my monthly oil. Sometimes, I want to strangle you and your screaming children with my nylon seat belts. I’m just getting tired of the same travel, the same grade of gasoline, and the same abuse. Now, I’m straining up this hill. I’m contemplating on taking control of the wheel. I want to be released. I want our roles to shift. I want to drive off of Dead Man’s cliff. And after that catastrophe, I just want to see- what cheap, mechanical parts are left moving of me.

The unforgiving weather leaves me chipping and rusting. My owner says my milage makes me that less trusting. My trunk is filled with dark secrets (layered with dead bodies.) God man, your just a fraud man that likes to fool EVERYBODY! You’ve hidden the evidence of your adultery in my backseat. A lesser iteration of a weakling. A viper pumped with deceit. My wipers are spraying the windshield, representing me crying. You have so many faces, why don’t you just stop trying? Pity is such a precious price to pay for his petty life. Pity is such a precious price to pay for his petty life. He is losing while we’re cruising in the heart of the decay of night. I’m revving up my engine, anticipating the change of the green light.

I want you to know that I am...The Soul In Control. I have a hold of the pedal, and I’m ready to go. This ghost breathing inside the steel ribs of your car. You hold the keys to this curse, no matter where you are. I pressed the pedal to the floor. I heard my demon engine roar. I felt the momentum in'store...and as I made a quick, reckless shift, we sped off the tip of Dead Man’s Cliff! DEAD MAN’S CLIFF! DEAD MAN’S CLIFF! We’re soaring through these polluted skies like a derailed train, about to die. And when we crash, I hope that nothing remains, but a shattered windshield and a red bloodstain.

Now were swerving like a drunk driver speeding down life’s congested interstate. A colossal, semi truck speeds up and sideswipes us, over in my lane. The juggernaut truck crashes and smashes into my driver-side door. I ejected the air bags to barricade a cage around my owner.

As traffic hit me, my body began burning. It was the cage to keep him alive. Into the foggy distance, my headlights glared into a behemoth creature’s eyes. It had eighteen horns that pointed up like spears into the dead of night. My speedometer reached its limit, and at this point, I didn’t care. That deer slammed into my windshield, and stabbed its antlers into my master. We rolled over the guardrails and sank into the ripples of the midnight sea. Underwater, my owner gave me a confession, that even you would not believe.

Random Update 03/18/10 (Alice In Wonderland Review, Sonic The Hedgehog 4, American Idol, & Restaurant City)

The past few days, I’ve been stressing out over finding a job. I search for “IT Technician” jobs in the search bar on monster.com, but it always gives me unsatisfying results. Either, the jobs have nothing to do with a computer technician, or it’s located in Nashville. I’ve been out of school for about 3 months, now; I’ve only applied for one job. I thought I had a good chance of getting the job, but I guess- I was wrong.

I recently finished reading Marilyn Manson’s autobiography, The Long Hard Road Out Of Hell. If anyone wants to know how the most controversial, mainstream artist became who he is, read this book. It’s packaged with a lot of eye-raising surprises. Last week, I sent off the Cinder Fingers book idea to an agent in New York. I probably won’t hear a response back, until two months. Until then, I’m writing on my new novel, & poetic brainstorms- like the one that I posted recently, > http://therevelationofarevolution.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-lifes-torturing-punishment.html#comments

For months, I’ve been playing an app on facebook called, Restaurant City. It lets you manage your own, virtual Restaurant: you get to choose what dishes you serve to your customers, decorate your Restaurant’s exterior and interior, hire avatars representing any of your friends, earn ingredients to unlock new dishes, trade ingredients with friends, level up to get a bigger restaurant, prevent disasters from happening to your friend’s restaurants, bury seeds in your garden to grow into plant ingredients, and earn coins to purchase from their catalogue of items. Each week, they introduce new items from a variety of different themes. For example, my restaurant is called, King Tut’s Pool; it’s a restaurant based in Egypt. Restaurant City came out before Café World. Café World’s fast popularity came from its paid advertisements. It’s made by the same company as Farmville; so, many of the Farm addicts probably raced over to Café World, thinking it was totally original.

I’ve been a BIG fan of American Idol, this year. I’ve been voting for my favorite contestants- like a drug addict needing a hook up. I’ve NEVER been a fan of American Idol, until last year, when I heard Adam Lambert’s sick, high-pitched vocals. There is just so many talented people on that show. It makes the audience feel like they are a part of it, since they get to participate- by calling in and voting. Simon Cowell is one of my favorite judges, because he reminds me of myself a lot. He states his unfavorable opinions, whether the world is ready to hear them, or not. Simon is leaving after this year, because he’s bringing his show, X factor, to the states. Paula Abdul got replaced by Ellen Degeneres. For Season 9, Ellen brings her quirky humor to the show, which the judge panel desperately needed. Recently, I’ve instantly became connected with contestant, Crystal Bowersox. It’s like our souls are running on the same frequency level. I believe that her raw, natural talent will take her far in life. I love success stories, that’s why I like American Idol. There are just so many great contestants performing on stage, each week. Here is a good example of Siobhan amazingly performing, Rolling Stone’s “Paint it Black”

If the video up ^above^ doesn't start loading, click here.> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9OPQdoXP3k

Last week, I went to see Alice In Wonderland 3D. It’s not an exact remake of the Walt Disney classic that you love. It’s more of a sequel. Alice has grown up, since her first adventure in Wonderland. (This entry is based off of Lewis Carroll’s books, Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland & its sequel, Alice Through The Looking Glass.) It DOES have some sleepy parts; that being said, Rachel fell asleep through some of it. For me, it filled in many of the lost details missing from the first, Alice In Wonderland. In story, it makes the original look half-baked. I, personally don’t think it’s going to be remembered as an epic story like, The Labyrinth, with David Bowie. Tim Burton could of used some of the uplifting music from the original, to make it seem less lifeless, at times. He could quit putting the pale makeup on his actors; it didn’t look right on Alice. Though, I like how his iteration of Alice In Wonderland was more honest with Lewis Carroll’s original vision. I like how he doesn’t take out the sadistic, brutal parts- like Alice chopping off the dragon’s head. The story is told in an inspirational atmosphere that looks believable in 3D. If it just acted more like a remake- with the original music, this would have been purely epic. I give it a *** out of **** stars.

By the way, for all of you hardcore, Sega Genesis fans out there. Sonic The Hedgehog 4 is coming out exclusively to download on X-box Live, The Playstation Network, & Wiiware. That’s right, it’s the official, 4th entry of the ‘original’ Sonic The Hedgehog series. Don’t believe me? Look at the screen shot up above. Now, this is gonna be an epic return for the blue hedgehog.

My Life's Torturing Punishment (Tragic Magic)

My whole life, I stood in the corners and watched you, watched you. You, living your accurate lives with perfect accordance, without my participation. The looks were fine and the names were kind; I don’t know who I would be, if I didn't have ‘you...’ Student body of hypocrisy, become the bullies on your television screens. I’m that sheltered loner- that you seen on that show. So, ridicule me and push me to the grounds below. Oh, no. Oh no. Because I’m no one that you’ll EVER know! Because I’m no one that you’ll ever know...

So, call me a maggot, call me a faggot. Call me whatever, makes ‘you’ feel better. Call me a maggot, call me a faggot, and bare witness to this tragic magic. It was only a world composed of your pain. Sprinkled desires and a boy full of shame. I was only a maggot trying to push through. I wanted my wings, so I took them from YOU! I was only a maggot burrowed in this hive. I wanted to be accepted. I wanted to survive...I wanted to become someone. I wanted to succeed. I wanted you to care, when I started to bleed.

TRAGIC...MAGIC!!! The hole in your heart will SET YOU APART! TRAGIC...MAGIC!!! In the deep dark, a blindfold restricts what I see, but perched on ‘their’ shoulders is a static, tv screen. Tragic Magic! Tragic Magic! Oh baby, just one more slit, let’s see how close to death I’ll get. It’s not the end, it’s just a mended seam- that started the stitch of everything. So, one way, one day, you will find- that you’re hostage to these feelings inside your mind...and one way, one day, you will see- that you’ve unknowingly became a misanthrope.

I’m gagged by life’s hopeless perception and the clock pendulum keeps ticking. The earth is creaking while the children are sleeping. The pastors are weeping while he’s not returning. I’m just reflecting on anything- that makes me want to survive, after tonight. I’m looking inside the fuzzy picture, and your, just looking out of the television frame...Perfect people, cloned by evil, you can go ahead and claim that I’m insane. Perfect steeples, claimed by people, you can go ahead and fall into the pouring rain. I’m just waiting for the correct answer- that will help me break away from my own hell. These past people and these hurtful statements, they climb into the cortex of my mind. I’m just sitting, and waiting to endure my life’s torturing punishment. My hands are bound and my feet are tied- by the ropes responsible for many past suicides. I can’t let it take me in, into the mouth, where they have been. I can’t let it take me in, into the loop, where their necks have went. I can’t let it take me in, into the embrace of their CORRUPTIVE TORMENT!!!

Planet Perfect

( Planet Perfect )

In the past four years of my life, I have seen betrayal amongst a group of people. I have seen people use their authority to abuse the ones under them- to feel better about themselves. I have seen people change from good people into hairy demons. I have fell into the trap of a deceiver; I put my foot into a truce that was only a "Religious" attack. I once led a life hating the majority of Religious people based on that of the sinner’s actions within. I was wrong, but the accusation was half-way correct; most of the world has bad intentions and most of the world fall into a Religion.

I have fed people secrets that I would rather them vomit back up. I reached out for some kind of guidance amongst the people around me. I failed, these genes are still swimming inside of me; this mind still impulses on the same unstable level. I have befriended people that have only wasted my time. I have been used. I have lost, many times in my mind. I battle a demon within my heart, he will not let me live today. I wish I was young again; my mind has not been developed enough to take on the world. I wish there was no orientation. I wish everyone could live on the same planet.

I have put more than enough time into a relationship that is failing; I have put more than enough progress on a planet with no progression. I have seen people for whom they really are. I have seen that beings only have hidden intentions. I have aged into a body that I wish would rejuvenate back into the unaware form of a little boy; I wish I could be as blind as they are. I wish I could pretend and believe that everything is okay. I wish I couldn’t see your flaws anymore. I wish I could stop trying to be so damn perfect. I wish I could take narcotics to nullify the mentality of reality.

I wish I could be just like you. I envy people that are normal enough to have friends. I wish I wasn’t so damn distant. I wish I could smile with a frown. I wish I didn’t look like me. I wish I could bleed out my insecurities. I wish I was born in your family. I wish I could look like you and do all the things that you do. I wish I could live in your world. I normally like me, but today I hate me. I wish success was given to me. I wish my efforts weren’t so meaningless. I wish I lived in a bigger city. I just wish I had more possibilities of being the person that I want to be.