The Falsely Smiling Maiden

The Falsely Smiling Maiden.
____________________

All is well,
(it seems)
for that falsely
Smiling Maiden,
who Destroyed
So Many Dreams;
and saw to it
that My Heart
Stays Dead.

Not a worry,
nor a care,
Haunts Her
Pretty Head!

(mostly because
she hasn't met the
DEVIL she created
YET.)
_

Demons Bow
as I form this
Curse..

With Angel's
Blood, and Dead
Man's Dirt..

and What I Do
Today shall Be
Hell's Work!!

(so May The
Wraith She Sees
Come At her
Worse.)
_

I Dip My
Fingers In
The Dark..

and Paint
A Shadow
on Her
Heart..

A Fitting
Vengeance
for Her Sins!

(Loneliness
Tears Her Soul
Apart.)



XIII.

diaboli advocatus
ex infernus.

memories for the piper.

Memories
for the Piper.
___________________

I imagine that
My Memories
pay The Piper..

(and feed his
Ego well.)

as he stands
with
Fabled
Flute in Hand.

(playing
for
ThE Rats
Of
Hell.)
_

Oops..
it seems
He
 missed
The HappY
ChoRd...


(A Bone
to
feed The
Dogs of
War.)

Yet I
Love how
Heaven
Makes
me
Remember!

(what the
Sorrows
of
Life are For.)
_

I won't
March
Blindly into
the Sea..

(NoR allow
My
Mind False
Reckonings.)

Even if
 The Absurdity
Kills Me!

For The
Rats of Hell?

(They Cannot
eat My
Memories.)

J.Stephen.H.

a laughing mask

A Laughing Mask.
_____________

My Trick?..
a Laughing
Mask
which
consumes
everything
and is
always
up to the
Task;
of Eating
Your Nothing
until the Theory
of Life is
taken as A Matter
of Fact.

It Sure is
Better than
a Silly Rabbit
from My Hat..

Or Pigeons
appearing
magically from
a stuffed sleeve.
_

The Now
is Everything;

A Cure for
Sorrows Disease
which instigates
World Suffering.

My Trick
is Hilarity.

(A Mask
I wear to
conceal My
Weeping.)

j.s.h.

a table set for 2

a table set for 2.

______________

I'm sitting 

at a table set for

2.

staring at a
Photograph

of You.

Smoking my
50th

Cigarette.

Picking
restlessly
at my Food.

_

Misery
Haunts

the 13th
Hour..

saturated
by

Loneliness.

As I Drown in

The Stench of

Dying Flowers!

(that I once saw

your Angel

Hands Caress.)

_

"Would you

care for more

my Dear?"

I ask the
Picture.

(wondering if

A presence is

near.)

"Perhaps
some

Fancy Liquor?"..

"or
Another Devil
Beer?!"

"If not I'll drink

one for us both
and mockingly
Cheer!!

(The Coming of

another Hateful

Year.)

_

I wake up
Dead

at a Table set for

2.

Tears staining

a Photograph of

You.

Then light my

hundredth
Cigarette.

(Drowning in

Our Ghostly

Solitude.)

_

j.s.h.

crazy beyond my years

Crazy Beyond My years.
____________________

She called me
"Crazy."

(and it's foreplay to
my ears.)

Hell..
Maybe I Am!

(or perhaps I'm just
aged beyond my
years.)

_

Crazy is making
shit up as you
go along to ease
the Boredom.

Or giving the
Comedians in
Your Head full
reign over your
Imagination,.. because
they seem to know
what they're talking
about.
__

Crazy is the
Love I keep
buried in My
Soul!

(that I'm
probably
better off
Without.)

_

Crazy knows
right from wrong
but no longer cares
because both seem
irrelevant considering
the Chaos which drives
this Universe.

Crazy is Being
Dead with a
heartbeat, and
Viewing the World
as Your Hearse.

_

It's all foreplay
to my ears.

Maybe...

(or perhaps I'm
just Crazy Beyond
My Years.)

j.stephen.h.

time is a cannibal.

Time is a Cannibal.
_________________

Time seems like
a Cannibal Today;
eating it's Own Kind.

Clock on Clock
Violence which
shocks the world
with it's savagery.
__

I see Monkeys in The
Streets Protesting..
holding up signs,
and screaming for
causes no one even
understands anymore,
let alone believes in.

It's Rebellion for the
sake of Rebellion really.
Taking the contrary
position because you're
unsatisfied with the way
This Flock Operates..
so you Speak Out
with Fists, or Peaceful
Outrage until there's
something more interesting
to Rebel Against.

It's circular...
so circular..
Rebel on Rebel
Rebellion that
wears the Badge
of Useless.
_

So Today I am
A Clock..
eating it's own
kind..
Hoping the
Madness will
eventually stop.

(or that there is at
least a more interesting
variety of Madness
Yet to Find.)

j.stephen.h.

he who laughs last? (laughs alone)

he who laughs last?
(laughs alone.)
___________

Real?
There is no
Real.

Only The
Living and
Dead .

Dancing in
This Cluster-
fuck of a Mystery.

Sometimes they
trade shoes;

Sometimes they
walk barefoot
down dusty halls.

Then there
are Moments
of Silence that
cause me to
Scream into The
Nothing which once
wore a Mask called
Heaven.

But the
Skeleton beneath
the Mask always
gets the last laugh..

and He who
laughs last?

(laughs alone.)

j.stephen.h

the serpentine garden

The Serpentine Garden.
_________________

It's not that a Serpent
has entered into the
Garden, so much as
Modern Man has been
cast headlong into a
Garden full of Serpents;
where The Fruits upon
that Tree of Hope have
since been eaten.
_

I lament the loss of
my illusions like a
father who has lost
his only son; and the
days are clever mockeries
from a Time My Memories
cannot recapture.
_

The Serpents do not
kill..they breed..and
in the process of their
breeding every animal
in the Garden becomes
as they are.
_

Poisoned Stars who
carry in them hungers
which cannot be filled
by any food..wandering
the dust upon their bellies
consuming, and consuming..
till nothing is left but a Shell
...a shell of Faded Glory.
_

Speech is useless to the
Serpents. Consumption is
their only Grammar. The
Mindless Consumption of
Once Perfect Ideals turned
Dystopian by the sheer Futility
of their Waste.
_

I Wander here, barefooted
and Alone amongst them.
Feet swollen by the sting
of their Teeth. A Dying
Philosopher from a Dead
Age of Utility.

(which was probably just
as useless in itself.)

j.s.h.

every moment is dying

Every Moment is Dying.
___________________

Every moment
is Dying,
and therefore My
Dying Moment..
which I embrace
with downcast
eyes, and Bitter
Face..

Living This Life of
Barter.

The Devil?!

(he's My Partner.)

A Reflection
of that Hungry
Inner Animal
that others Ignore..
Minds Dreaming
of Golden Shores!

(where Angels
walk no More.)
_

I am made
Strong by the
Realization of
My Weakness.

(Love.)

For in
Those "Living
Moments"
My Mind feels
Bleakest,..
and unable to
Trust.

(that I am
Anything but
a Man of Blood.)
_

Worry not
for your Hearts
Shattered Wings..

My Cruelty
shall Mend them.

Before the
White Knight
in Rainbow
Armor comes
to show you
Love again.
_

And I will
be "Here."

(keeping The
Monsters at
Bay.)

j.stephen.h.

when the inside part is empty

when the inside part is empty.
_________________________

More lovely than
a moon-kissed
night you are;
who's eyes consume
the stars..
and likely haunt
vast dreams
un-numbered;
or keep men
from a Fitful
Slumber.

Yet most Dreamers
(it seems to me)
are unaware of the
Nightmare beauty
can Be!

(when the Inside
Part is Empty.)

j.stephen.h.

(with help from lynn)

in loves romantic lore.

In Love's Romantic Lore.
_____________________

And what
Beautiful
part of the
world did
you come
from?

You ma'am
are stunning
beyond Sight.

A Human
Goddess.

The words
of 100 Dead
Poets could
not do Justice
to The Novels
of Beauty Spoken
by your Face!

I no Longer
have A name,
but Yours..
and Shame,
of course.

For I Am
Ashamed that I
never had
Faith Before!

(in Love's
Romantic
Lore.)
_

j.s.h.

Said The Wondrous Light.

Said the Wondrous Light.
__________________

"ah,
step into
My Parlor."

(said My
Shadow
to The Light.)

"and I shall
feast rather
well upon
your Radiance
Tonight."

"As I eat
away The Hope
Within, till
Stars Fall From
Your Eyes!"
_

The Light
enters timidly
with a blush,..
Heart beating;..
Sanity Fleeting.

(Perfect to
be Crushed.)

Smiling like
an Innocent
Angel The Dark
Loves to Corrupt..

ready to Reveal
A Thought.

(Until
My Shadow
screams
in Rage,
interrupted
By A Clock.)
_

Clock:

"Tick-Tock
Shadow,
Time to Go."

"Back to your
Respective Hell
where No Love nor
Light can Follow."

"Pack your
bag and
come my
friend."

("step over
the Rainbow
Silhouettes
Hoping to
be born again.")

and don't be
mad!"

" you should
know by now
that every moment
Ends."

(for visitors in
my den.")

_

Shadow:

"Time you
Bastard Devil!
why must
things in
you contained,
always seem
to be unleveled
by Life's randomness
and strain?"

"I killed you
once, but it
matters not,
because you
won't stay dead;
and you will
see to it even
Darkness Rots,
while Angels
fill it's Head!"

"I needed that
light for dinner
tonight!"

"NEEDED to
be FED!!!!"
_

Light:

"If I have any
say in this,
speak now
I must you know."

("or Never.")

"We need
one another
Dear Shadow,
as Daylight
Needs The
Dusk to Grow."

(in Harmony
Together.)
_

"The Star
in you would
never shine lest
peppered by
my Kiss,
and as for
"YOU",

(Light said to
Time.)

you Play
The Smallest
Part in This!!"
_

"Yes it's
true that Time
is Slight,
and Life in
Our World Ceases,
Yet Energy
never wanes,
nor Dies,
but shifts, and
then Increases!"
_

"So Step into
MY Parlor
Shadow."

(said the
Wondrous
Light.)

"Time
no Longer
brings US
Sorrow."

"For I Am
YOURS."

(And You Were
Always Mine.)

J.Stephen.H.

the freeman's masquerade

The Freeman's Masquerade.
_______________________

In Misery
they Wallow..
like pretty
Pigs praying
their shit will
eventually
be A Pearl to
Swallow.

So I feed
them My
Tragedy,
until they
laugh at
Me.

(silly
Monkeys.)

Perhaps it's
The Nature
of the Beast?

(or maybe
Everything
is Funny?)
_

It's Love
and Hate..
which I
Love to
Hate.

They go
together like
Wrists and
Razor Blades,..
Snowmen on
Sunny Days..

or Deaf Men
clapping as
A Silent
Band Plays!!!

Hail to
The Thief!

(That King of
Puppets Dancing
in A Freeman's
Masquerade.)
__

Oh, how
they Wallow,
looking for
That Perfect
Pearl.

A Greater
Truth..

or Saint
to Follow.

As I tell
Jokes about
Life's tragedy!,

which amuses
me still.

(Because I understand
the Nature of This
Beastly World.)

j.s.h.

a mint before verbal defecation

A mint before Verbal Defecation.
____________________________

Love,
Please eat mints,
before you verbally
defecate..

for such will better
mask the stench
of all your Inner
Hate.

Spare me the
worn out shakespeare
sonnets, and happy
images of victorian
women prancing around
in bonnets singing of
good days.

because None of that shit
ever happened; The World
has always been "this way".

(and only the extent by which
we delude ourselves has
changed.)

Love is a four letter
word...but so is LAID,
and the former is often
a clever tool used to see
that the latter is obtained..

so Next time just cut
to the chase, and eat
a few mints..

(before you verbally
defecate.)

j.stephen.h.

walking down this dark street

Walking down this Dark Street.
___________________

When I walk
down this dark
street..people
move, and the
Moon Howls
at me.

It's endless
really.

The Extent of
Mad Thoughts
which feed
something
worse and
madder
still.

Similar to
The Power
of Belief.

(and we ALL
know how many
people that has
killed.)
_

I know not
yet how far
I shall take
this..or if I
can take it back
once it's been
given..
I just know
it's Coming,
like the fabled
unstoppable
force seeking
to meet an
Unmovable
Object,
and once it's
here neither
The Howling
of the Moon,
nor Laughter
of Gods will
be able to scoff
and Reject it.

Everything will
Make Way for me.


(walking down
this Dark Street.)

j.stephen.h.

and there goes love (that finer dream)

And There Goes Love. (that finer Dream.)
________________________

I listened
to her
Dreams..
and it
seemed she
Wanted Me
There.

But none of
them were
True.

(Or Realistic
like My
Nightmares.)
_

I Am renewed
when Midnight
Comes,

To wash away
the Days
Deception;

and Consume
that Tyrant
Sun!

(which is
A Cancer
bent on
World
Infection.)

but it
leaves me
feeling like
the only One!

Who Knows
the Dark.

(My Soul's
Reflection.)
_

The few Tears
My Heart Once
Wept are Nothing,

compared to
The Centuries
I have Not Slept..

searching for
Something.. that
was Always
in Me.

And there
Goes Love.

(that finer
Dream.)

J.Stephen.H.

The Darkness of December.

Th Darkness Of December.
_____________________

It smiles
cracked Piano
Keys into
The Darkness
of December.
(recalling A Love
it's Shadow
can't Remember.)

Time is
Fleeting for
The Thing.

(somewhat
like a River.)
_

Beauty is
resurrected
like a Scab
picked
soley for the
Purpose of
experiencing
Pain which
taught it's Heart
to Feel..

Then it Screams
into Itself
until Nothing
Else Seems
Real.
_

Music Plays
Brokenly through
The Restless
Gloom,
whispering
life into the
fragile Bones
of Living
Marionettes
hanging limply
from crumbling
walls, Howling
at Imaginary
Moons.

and IT Smiles
cracked Piano
Keys ..which
penetrate The
Darkness
of December.

(recalling a Love
My Shadow can't
Remember.)

J.Stephen.H.

Redemption found in Artistic Madness.

Redemption found in Artistic Madness.________________________________
I am affected by The mark of ASolitary Artist who's Vision shall blind the World with Madness. (once they dare to look.) 
See that?...How words can twist a contradiction into something which seems upon the surface Meaningful? bringing congruity to oxymorons which confuse the mind whilesimultaneously filling it's Cavewith Wonder.
There is likely Redemptionto be found in This Madness;Or (at least) Salvation from the Monotony of Convention which has for so long dictated the Migration of Artistic Flocks.
if Not?..It scarcely matters.For I shall nonetheless Enjoyblinding the world with MyVision.
(till it dares to see.)
J.Stephen.H.
(inspired after a brief rantingaddressed to a "friend"/formerlover who chose Nothing overAll.)

always men and women

Always Men and Women.
___________

In another life
my words were
an insult to Gods
and Goddesses.

Today..those
same gods
and Goddesses
feast upon my
every verbal
gesture.

Such is the
nature of
Progress
I suppose.

(or the Reality
that Gods and
Goddesses were
always Men and
Women concealing
their Mortality behind
Immortal Concepts.)
_

j.stephen.h.

the beast you made

The Beast you Made.
____________

Yes Love..
I am A Beast..
The Beast you
Made.

The Monster
nurtured in your
Cradle..
while Taught to
see it's Grave.
_

But when Songbirds
Die it does not
mean the End of
Song..

For there is a Variety
of Music in the World
which carries on.

_

Thus the Beast
you Made shall
Love again soon.

And Know once
more the Art of
Laughter shared
beneath a Smiling
Moon!

For The Heart
cannot be strangled.

(when it congregates
with Angels.)

j.stephen.h.

the phoenix

The Phoenix.
____________

Somewhere between
Symbolism, Realism,
and The Absurd, there
is a Cure..waiting in the
most unlikely of places,
like an Impoverished
Merchant in The Woods.

The Human Heart (itself
a mere symbolism for
what The Realism of
our Head Produces)
shall tremble in Fear
of Itself..as The Abstract
World is rebuilt with
New Relics of Art more
suiting of it's Design.
__

Who else grows weary listening
to the bickering of Heaven
and Hell?...Those Olde Maids
who once shared the same
Mansion until Pride got in
the way?..Or sees the Death
and misfortune born of Their
Waste?

Surely I am not alone in my
Cleansing Madness!..An..
Island unto myself as that
Dead Poet once said.

Surely Others can (or Will)
see the Folly..while noticing the
connectedness between all
things though we are indeed
separate.
_

It's all Art for Me...Everything.
A Matter of Eternal Recurrence
which involves the reincarnation
of various Key Themes and Features
inherent in every mode of consciousness.

Yesterday an impression was made
that Today consumes and will regurgitate
tomorrow with a slightly different face
and I will be There like a Phoenix,
snorting the ashes of My Destruction..
High on the Life that courses through
me Still.

j.stephen.h.

the hell i grew up believing in

The Hell I grew up Believing In.
________________________

Well..this is
certainly Irony.
Whoever would've
thought the gates of
hell had a welcome
mat outside the door,
depicting images of
two cute kittens hugging
beneath a Smiling Sun?

And who is this coming
here?..Wearing Fuzzy
Bunny slippers and his
trademark boyish grin?
why...none other than
Satan himself...that old
rascal!

I always figured demons
would be of the more
classical variety...with
pointy tails, red skin, and
glowing eyes that terrified
children.

So why am I surrounded
by famous people I grew
up admiring, and hot women
with perfectly sculpted frames?

(Then the gates close, and darkness
consumes me. Now...that's more
like it. This is the Hell I grew
up believing in.)

j.stephen.h.

today my pen seeks vengeance

Today My Pen Seeks Vengeance.
__________________________

Today my
Pen seeks
vengeance..
for all things
lost, pushed
away, or taken
from me.

My Words
are The
Executioners
of those living
Illusions which
stain the reality
of Our Head.

Yet I mourn the
Angels that my
Devils Thoughts
have Eaten..
while Praying to
The Damned
who have openly
damned Me.

And for what?
You ask..
For The small
and simple
Facts that in
Matters of
Heart there are
no Facts..
merely beliefs
that change
and alter reality
for each who
believes differently
than the Other
Heart Bleeding.

(it's Vengeance upon
the World.)

j.stephen.h.

fast times at soulless high

Fast Times At Soulless High.
_____________________

It was easy
wasn't it?..

To forget the
tying bind
which held
my Soul together...

So easy to
thrust the
hateful blade!

(which ensured
My Heart was
severed.)
_

Easy to walk
into the sunset..

that rests it's
shadow on
my Head..

and leave me
Restless Like
The Dead!!

(who are
Constant
Occupants
in My Bed.)

_

I trusted in
a Promise
before..

which led
me somewhere
darker still..

through a
Broken,
splintered Door..

(where hope
was quickly
Killed.)
_

Thank you
love for
showing me
everything
I'm not...

All that I
feared, but
Fear No
More..

It was
easier for
My Heart
to Rot.

(once my
Soul became
a Corpse.)

J.Stephen.H.

into a lions den.

Into a Lions Den.
_____________

It's interesting
isn't it?..

How Hell
can hide in
a Kiss?

While The
Bittersweet
Poison kills
an ignorant Heart
with Pleasure..
and leads the
Soul directly
into A Lions
Den.

(full of Mice
disguised
as Men.)
_

I've tasted
Hell, and
know Hell..

it's Heaven
that is so hard
to obtain..

Heaven which
requires Nobility..

Heaven which
demands our
patient strain.

(something one
must Dig For
and pursue in
spite of Pain.)
_

I've also seen
The Whore...

She stands on
a circumference
parted by two
Shores..

in one hand
she Holds a
Fabled Book.

(the other
grasps a
Dying Torch.)
_

in fact
I've seen
damn near
everything..

except for
Heaven..

(tis a concept
I still look
for.)

j.stephen.h.

muse for hire

Muse For Hire.
___________

We all see the
occasional artist
sitting idly on a
park bench with
a "Muse for Hire"
sign around his
neck, and jar of
coins sitting next
to him.

His body carries
a three-day stench
of cheap wine and
cigarettes, and there
is no mistaking the
13 O'clock Shadow
on his Face.
_

Most artist are likely
lunatics by world
standards...who suffer
a secret madness that
others often admire
because they are unaware
of the burdens of such
genius.

But the Muse for Hire is
the bottom of that creative
barrel...the artist turned
whore who pimps out
his creativity to anyone
willing to toss a few coins
into his jar.

It matters not that his
words, or images may
be exploited and become
a mockery of the Creators
Intent..used to sell unnecessary
products, or promote causes
that he feels little to nothing
about.

Maybe someone should tell
him that there are Pieces of
yourself you can Never Buy
back, or drink away?...

j.s.h.

Death is No Good Compromise.

Death is no Good Compromise.
________________________

Tonight
I am The
Mourning
Dove..
sitting in a
Weeping
Razor-Willow..
singing my
Tragedy
to A Star.

(that I once
considered
an Angels
Pillow.)
_

Tonight My
Heart Bleeds
For Thee..

A
Goddess
who's
Divinity
is poorly
Clothed..

in Veils
of Lost
Humanity.
_

The look
upon your
Face Says:

"YOU did
THIS to
ME."

Yes My
Flame..
I am the
Monster..

and Love
has made
A Beast!
_

Tonight
I am Lost
so deep in
Myself The
Dark
Consumes
Me..

and
Suicide
Sonnets
fill my
Eyes!..

but My
Soul is
NOT
Surrendering!

(for Death
I think is
no Good
Compromise.)

J.Stephen.H.