by
Travis King
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This book is dedicated to the members of my family, each of whom encourages, supports, and challenges me every day in his or her own way, and to everyone else who has helped to shape my life, thus inspiring some of the poems herein.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
The text of this collection was originally published in print format in May 2005 under the jurisdiction of the copyright laws of the United States. As of December 2007, it is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.
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Welcome to My World
Welcome to my world,
Where everything is as it seems;
Your paradigm has shifted here.
Things are done my way;
My perception is Reality,
And you see things as I do.
Demons, devils, angels, and gods
Lurk behind you and in every shadow.
Here, they are not fleeting dreams.
There, beside you, is a door.
Open it—it’s something more.
If you see a paradise, then that is what it is,
But if you see a hell, then be afraid,
For there is no chance of hallucination here
In my world of many facets.
Navigate your way through my unsurprising surprises,
Reach my hyperplane and read my thoughts,
And you will see the world as it truly exists.
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Lines Composed on a Summer Day
Go down to the graveyard; see the convicts in their chains,
Preparing the beds for the drearily departed,
The clipped-winged angels, whose first flights ended
Not with a whimper, but with a thud,
The tailless mermaids, destined to float aimlessly
Upon a blackened sea, and the rest
Of the characters, the dramatis personae of dime-store novels,
With their lost dime-store hopes and forsaken dime-store dreams.
Be glad as you watch that you are not one of them,
And spare a cup of pity—or not—for those of us who are.
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Shoreline
I am a paradox of
Technicolor hues:
reds, blacks, yellows, oranges, and blues,
An orange
melting in the sun,
the “bleak December” of the Melancholy One,
A blood-red rose, undying love,
A winged flyer, the soul-inspiring dove;
I am the bluebird of deadliness—blossoms wither at my
presence,
die altogether at my touch—
A caged bird singing love songs in the rain—
on sunny days, death filters through my brain.
A rainbow of decay
takes refuge in my soul,
melding with a golden stormcloud to make me whole.
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Shadows Slither
Shadows slither on the walls,
Banshees scream within the halls,
Imps and demons lurk and play,
Night devours the light of day.
Hellhounds howl their demon-song
From dusk ’til dawn, the whole night long,
Ghouls and other fiendish things
Strike with teeth and claws and stings,
Peace departs where these things dwell,
These creatures sent to Earth from Hell.
I wish to leave this place behind,
But how does one leave one’s own mind?
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Disneymind
My mind has become a swamp,
Filled with murk and muddy water,
Sludge dredged up from the lowest depths,
Swirling to the surface, thoughts
Waiting for a visionary
To build a theme park in their place.
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Dragons
They travel aloft on their leathery wings—
The wyverns of Cymru, of which the bard sings.
I’ve never seen dragons, but thought I did once;
I stared and I said, “This is what the night brings.”
The sun rose this morning and pushed night away,
But in me a vision of dragons still rings.
The ghoulies and beasties of night frighten me,
But dragons do guard me against all these things.
I stand at a crossroads, the future ahead,
Behind me a past that held dragons and kings.
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I Stood in a Forest
I stood in a forest beneath a tree,
Felt lupine eyes staring at me.
My pulse shot up, my breathing ceased,
But then a calming sense of peace
Took hold of me, and I stared back,
With nothing to fear from them, my pack.
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in darkness born
endlessly waiting
for this fog to lift
waiting intently
for these winds to shift
hoping the sunlight
will make its way here
hoping that summer
will happen this year
certain it will not
in this dreary land
certain it cannot
occur where i stand
light likes to taunt me it certainly seems
shining down only at night in my dreams
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ONE WAY
Black on white on black.
It is a ONE WAY sign,
The arrow pointing east.
But I want to go west.
It seems as though the road of life
Is filled with ONE WAY signs
Pointing me in a direction
I do not want to go,
Aiming me in the direction
Of stifled creativity.
Now I must choose my path:
Do I go down the ONE WAY street,
Or retrace the dusty road
Of the life I have tried to forget,
In the hopes that I might find
A westbound lane?
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in blackness
lost in blackness
in blankness
in blankets of gloom
thoughts clouded
thoughts shrouded
in a blanket of doom
i ponder my future
my present
my past
thoughts wander
thoughts fester
how long will it last
i ask myself questions
that i’ve asked before
by trying to banish them
i dwell on them more
still answers
escape me
the answers i seek
silent in blackness unwilling to speak
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I Sleep
I sleep.
They creep
Into my mind.
The dreams,
The beams
Of darkness, find
A way
To stay
In me. Unkind
Are they
Each day
I leave behind.
And I
Ask why
Was love so blind?
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you speak of love. stop
you speak of love. stop
speaking. i have tasted
love, and it is too bitter
for my palate. you speak
of hate. stop speaking,
for i have also tasted hate
and find it too sweet. i
find that i prefer the spicy
taste of life uninterrupted
by these base emotions.
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Lines on Paper
red white arrow, blanket on the ground
water salted air, damaged rural town
ensteinian maneuvers, implemented plans
deftly patched piano played by talented hands
i am asking questions, or am i stating facts
life built among ruins, month-old artifacts
simian transgression, window on the floor
ninety seven seven, ninety seven four
black suede stockings, cotton fishnet coat
i don’t understand a single word i wrote
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Visions of a Faraway Land
The tall cylinder, the surrounding sea,
The traveling salesman who frightens me,
A desert dune, a hundred more,
The rocks and animals on the seashore,
The shooting stars, shot from the land,
The large black eyes, the guiding hand,
The night time sun, the light brown sky—
The honest truth, the evil lie.
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Black Reflections
Black is the sea of stars through which they travel,
Their engines burning black against the sky.
Imagine how that empty blackness feels:
Cold, like their black souls, reflected by
Their black, all-seeing, almond-contoured eyes,
Reflected in humanity, black spawn,
Their only hope in a sea of black despair.
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I Travelled Last Night
| I travelled last night to an unknown land, where the stars never shine and the desert sand is the tan of the sky. |
The grey ones with eyes as black as the night were leaders and teachers and spiritual guides in this strange world. |
| The buildings there were constructed in cliffs, mere holes dug deep down in the mountainside— adobe abodes. |
The small ones in blue were called the Good Army, and they were the workers, the builders, the servants, and entertainers. |
| And the people who lived in this wondrous land were different, so different than any I’ve seen on Earth before. |
I stayed there for hours or minutes, or seconds, though it seemed like days, for it was a dream, a dream—or was it? |
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Those Eyes
How can I be terrified
yet drawn into those eyes?
They look at me,
look into my soul—
liquid night.
I think I am afraid of them,
afraid of their actions,
but I am mystified
by the fact that they
seem to look deep
into me and know
me intimately. No
one else knows
me so well.
This is what I imagine
a true friend to be.
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purgatory thread
i’m hanging by a thread above
a flame that will not die.
i cannot climb the cursed thread
no matter how i try,
nor can i fall into the flame,
for i will not let go.
i’m trapped between my life above
and other lives below,
between an accidental lie
that has become the truth
and sparks of life that once were real,
now fantasies of youth.
the only ways i might escape
and cause my strife to end
are finding strength to climb the thread
or courage to descend.
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I Look Around
I look around, and I see adversaries.
I know that I am powerless against them.
The past.
I look around, and I see no true friends,
Merely those who try to be, or pretend.
It hurts.
I look around, and I see adversaries.
I know that I can rid myself of them.
The present.
I look around, and I see no true friends,
And none who try to be, or even pretend.
So what?
I look around, and I see adversaries,
Illusions, fantasies, unfounded fears.
The future.
I look around, and I see no true friends.
My fault. I’ve kept them away until the end.
Regrets.
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My Personal Hell
With one stroke of the knife,
one
clean
stroke,
I end my life.
As the darkness engulfs me,
I hope a hope beyond hope
That I am going somewhere better.
I know I am, for what could be worse?
Heaven is said to be bliss,
And in Hell you know at least where you stand.
Even cessation of all would suit me.
And so
I
slip
Into darkness.
And wake up!
To die would be the best reward,
Yet I cannot,
For I died long ago,
And life is my eternal damnation.
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The Vampires and the Wolves
They danced their little dance,
Their danse macabre,
In the graveyard with the vampires and the wolves.
They ate the blessed flesh
And drank the blood,
Bathed by moonlight with the vampires and the wolves.
They cast their pagan spells
And worshipped Mother
Earth, sang verses with the vampires and the wolves.
They ate the foxglove plants
And drank the wine,
Debauched themselves with the vampires and the wolves.
They ran through open fields
And into forests;
They were followed by the vampires and the wolves.
Throughout the autumn night
They sang and frolicked,
Their sole companions the vampires and the wolves.
And when the sun came up
They woke remembering
Delightful dreams of the vampires and the wolves.
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I do not need the gallows
I do not need the gallows; life itself
is the noose around my neck
winding ever tighter
the closer I come to death
the farther away it moves
fluctuating as it beckons
searing my flesh with its heat and
stretching out its icy hands
to soothe the pain
death’s minions come for me, their rotting corpses
sweet with the scent of their master
a scent I know so well
the taste of victory is in the air
and I feel their dreadful moans
deep within me
is this Hell, or the battlefield revisited?
(but I’ve never been to war)
a light shines forth from the heavens
sending the demons retreating
and illuminating the land
the desertification of this once green land
is reversed
the fields and forests are verdant once again
the land sings a soulful song
full of hope and promise
still the column of light shines forth
coming for me because I cannot see
and a voice calls out
the siren’s voice of mercy calling me closer
I step into the light
and I am held in stasis
standing still as my heart is weighed and measured
(mene, mene, tekel, upharsin)
blessed are the pure in heart, for they
will see the face of God
time stands still within me
as I wait for judgement—and then
I look up
and stare
at the surface of the sun
the Lost One finding his true path
I do see God then
in all Her radiant glory
telling me my day will come
the austere glory of this land will be mine
to partake in
the choices of many lifetimes are made in an instant
et in Arcadia ego
rain down
light
on the hearts of the pure
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The Fallen Warrior
The scent
of roasted almonds floats gently on the air.
The sound
of Mozart’s violins, recorded, reach my ear.
I scan the line of the desolate horizon;
it seems to go on forever.
It is cold out there,
but in here I can stay warm
in the winter;
I know no sorrow in my life,
or so I say.
Then the curtains close before me;
the music stops!
I begin to slip;
a change overcomes me—
a fleeting moment of grief I cannot bring myself to bear,
beside me always, but rarely glimpsed—
the scent of the blood of the fallen.
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Final Thought
what
kind
of sick
twisted
demented
person
wants
to kill
himself
?
he asked
as he pulled the trigger
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The Darkness and the Light
So many years ago, I left without
Telling you just where I planned to go
Or what I planned to do. Without a doubt
You’ve wondered, sadly, ever since. Well, know:
I went to vanquish demons of the past,
Lest they my future shortened with their deeds.
I went to vanquish demons, but a vast
And potent horde bore down, fulfilled their needs
For flesh, for blood, for energy of life.
They came, they fed, they left me all alone
And weakened by their rampage, full of strife
And full of fear that shook me to the bone.
The demons left me standing in a shell,
A body not my own, where shadows lurk.
They left me and returned, with speed, to hell,
While I to heaven prayed for saints to work
Their wonders as I travelled to my home.
Alas, my prayers fell onto deafened ears,
And I thus ceased to travel, ceased to roam.
I stood within the shadows as the years
Passed by. I lost myself within the shell,
Transcended boy, mind, and even soul.
I saw past earth, past heaven, and past hell,
Becoming one with the eternal whole.
I stand, lost in the blackness of the night.
I stand between the shadow and the flame.
I stand between the darkness and the light.
I stand and wait for you to do the same.
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