Saturday, June 8, 2013

Incubus VIII



Untitled, by Zdzisław Beksiński

Incubus VIII
(Bloody Hell)




Hell is lonely without my demon--
my personal one, I mean, because
there's no shortage here of devils.

Basting on the liquid lava's lips,
I'm alone in brimstone sunscreen,
no ruby pitchfork's flip

when one side gets too burnt,
no serpent sapient tail to scale me,
just the brisk popping of my cookery.

I thought my demon knew there's no
vaccine for the maenad's bite, that
nothing says forever like damnation.

I was killing more than willing
to lie griddled on bloodred coals
and call it love; but I missed his

listening kiss in the hissing steam.
Hell is lonely, bloody
empty without my demon.

I thought this blistered blaze might hold
his blade-heart's forge, and a hammer pain to
twin us bright as living never did

yet after the first in-twisting, after
first blood spilled
he disappeared

and that is Hell for you.



~June 2013









posted for       dVerse Poets
Karin Gustafson (Manicddaily) challenges us today to deal with the great splitting gemini within us all, to write of twins, twining, combining or uncombining. Though I thought I'd finished with him, as I've written many little scribbles about my twin the Incubus, still he seems to linger somewhere at the back of Hell's waiting room.
  If you'd like to read the others in this series, you can find them  here.





Image: Untitled, by the great Polish surrealist Zdzisław Beksiński may be under copyright. All copyright belongs to the copyright holders.


30 comments:

  1. I was killing more than willing
    to lie griddled on bloodred coals
    and call it love...geeezzzzzz....sick verse joy.....there is a delicious darkness to this...and some wry humor as well...this blistering blaze hold his sword eh? smiles. ha. love the close line as well...smiles. excellent.

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    Replies
    1. hey dude, it's Hell--what can I say. ;_)Thanks, bri.

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  2. Well, you are a sort of archetypical scapegoat here, only one who's read Dante, and decided to add her own inimitable twists and blisters on it--to put her own pitchfork in as it were. The alliteration and internal rhyme are terrific, and all the wit - my favorite funny line, of course, is that nothing says forever like damnation - but the poem strikes me as something deeper than that. Because when Faustus sells his soul to the devil, he expects damnation but not abandonment. And thought I'd not thought of it before this poem - abandonment is about as bad as it gets for some of us. Personal abandonment. You are not, in other words, an existentialist here (i.e. Hell is other people), but a being with quite a bit of particular sentiment. (Abandonment to the divided self even worse.)

    The opening stanza is super strong - your voice is sympathetic from the start--and then there's something about all the alliteration - the blistering - the hissing rhymes, the griddled rhymes that feels like blistering - skin popping out like the scales and cookery in awful little sores. The bloody quite funny/awful too in its odd way. Thanks for participating. k.

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    1. I mean and "though I'd not thought of it before."

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    2. Thanks, Karin. I was able to translate, as I speak fluent typonese. And thanks for your insights as ever. I enjoyed this prompt a lot.

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  3. Love this piece - worse than the demon is the emptiness. yes, you have written an amazing piece here.

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  4. That demon of yours is a right f()er, isn't he? He'll probably claim to have written, but the posts must have burnt up in the brimstone. A marvelous write. ~ M

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  5. "I thought my demon knew there's no
    vaccine for the maenad's bite"
    loved this.
    the 'lava lips'... the dark atmosphere... so haunting. painful and touching at the same time. a great write.

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  6. What a write Hedge, wow on the closing lines ~ The allit and word play in these verses are amazing:

    I was killing more than willing
    to lie griddled on bloodred coals
    and call it love; but I missed his

    listening kiss in the hissing steam.
    Hell is lonely, bloody
    empty without my demon.

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  7. The image leading in is wonderful, my love for the artist. Into your words, the depths of them, certainly captivating in the shadows you cast with them. A powerful expression of our darker elements and their company on our journey. Send peace ~ Rose

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  8. Damn, Hedge... I've missed you! Amazing poem... especially the ending.

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  9. "Nothing says forever like damnation." That's the most priceless line that I have read anywhere in weeks.

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  10. Oh, but we do create our demons...our own hells...and twist in the wind trying to escape them. Superb, hedgewitch! Bravo!

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  11. Wonderful, we can't live with our own demons and sometimes living without them is hell...they're all bits of us each and everyone. Marvelous write!

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  12. Our demons often also contain our angels, with our strengths also being our weaknesses. Can we ever tease them apart? Or do we only know heaven because of hell? Thought provoking write that had a scorching heat to it.

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  13. I love the subtle rhymes, the alliteration; this was a great write. If I read it three times I'll find something new every time. Great work! -Mike

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  14. Yikes, the final state is hell beyond hell! great imagining.

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  15. This is a brilliant write on the dark side..well done with rhymes and imagery galore.

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  16. It would figure that Hell would deprive you of your personal demon! Of course your language is great, but this is funnier than I've seen you before, and that's nice to see.

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    Replies
    1. Got to laugh to keep from crying, right? Thanks, Mark.

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  17. Joy Ann, this is wonderful. Great use of language throughout, and I have to say this part gave me pause;

    "I thought my demon knew there's no
    vaccine for the maenad's bite, that
    nothing says forever like damnation"

    On some very unaware level this spoke to me. In an almost frightening way. I saw this prompt yesterday, I think it is fantastic.

    Pamela

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    1. Thanks, pamela. You ought to tackle it.

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  18. "nothing says forever like damnation."

    I want that on a t-shirt!

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  19. Ah! well, it happens well, demons better off for company. Wry dark humour at its best! here.

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  20. (Hands The Hedgewitch a business card)

    Have Pitchfork
    Will Travel
    Wire G-Man
    Flint Michigan

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    Replies
    1. You devil, you. Should have known you'd be up for barbeque. ;_)

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  21. Wow this is absolutely amazing love it

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  22. The devil you know is often better than being alone.

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg