the nightmare that is me

The Nightmare that Is Me.
_________________

I once thought it
was The Nightmares
that kept me going;
but now I realize
it's the possibility of
living a better Dream
which compels me
to proceed, in spite
of the Nightmare that
Is Me.

The Nightmare that
is Me was born before
it's Rightful Season,..
such a hungry little thing...
knowing neither rhyme
nor reason;
abducted from
A Universal King!
(in what became an
act of Treason.)

Few Stars are Here,
but fewer make it
greater for Man to
thus appreciate.

Those who wander a
World of tears, with
footsteps  intent on
reaching Heavens Gate!

I once thought it was
The nightmares keeping
me going, roaming this
life in search of a meaning
that strikes me as TRUE.


But I realize within
myself a Higher Light!
(ignited now by better
dreams of You.)

J.Stephen.H.

A Letter to The Hopelessly Hopeful.

A Letter to the
Hopelessly Hopeful.
__________________

To: The Shy Girl
sitting in the Corner
smiling away her
tears...wishing she
had half-a-chance...

I Understand...for
My Heart Knows
Poverty equally...


"Will Fortune ever
ask Us to Dance?!"

(I hope so with a
passion few can
see.)
_________

To: The dirty Man
wandering lonely
Streets...

I too Sir am
A Wanderer.

(but the "Street"
exists inside of
me.)

and The World cannot
spare us any Change
Today!

(Such Change must
come internally.)

________________

To: The Mother with
Tear Stained Pillows,
who went to Bed Hungry
so her Kids could have
more Food...

There are few Angels
Nobler than You...

And May faith in Better
Things to Come help
you through your
Midnight Solitude!
_____________

To: That quiet kid
nobody understands,..
walking fearfully down
the halls at school;
cringing at the thought
of a bully's punch.

Those Blows can
never beat you...
if you keep your
head above the Fools!

(and your Future will
provide a Better
Lunch.)

_____________

To: Anyone who feels
that Hope has Faded...
And Life is a misplaced
series of Hells...

I Too have been cynical,
and Jaded..

(but have found that
Hope exists
within The Self.)

ENDURE...

J.Stephen.H.

A Bottle Full of Evil.

A Bottle Full of Evil.

____________________

Heartbreak never broke
so much of him as this.
Just as Daylight never ceased
so much as now.

To think one could become
dependent on a Kiss!
(even if it be upon The Brow.)

She left without a single parting
word.

Packed her bags and headed
for the door.

And took with Her the best
thing in his Universe.
(with  a poorly written note left
on the floor.)
______________

There is honesty in Whiskey
one scarcely experiences in
People.

But it brings the Devil out
and sharpens Misery.

His last resort...a Bottle full
of Evil!

(and a head full of True
Loves Dying Screams.)

______________

Heartbreak never broke so
much of him as this.

Just as darkness in his Head
leaves seldom now.

To think, The things we sacrifice
for a kiss.

(even if it be upon the Brow.)

Smoking My Life By.

Smoking My Life By.
____________

I'm sitting at
The Table
drinking Coffee,
and Smoking;
Smoking My
Life By.

Wondering if
Perhaps My
Angel was't
Joking?
(When it
told me I
had Devils
Deep Inside.)

Crazier Shit
Happens, that's
for certain.
Sadder Things
Too.

Like Memories
peeking back
Through Deaths
Black Curtain.
(reminding me
of Better Times
With You.)

For All of Me
I cannot fathom
Why.

Or Explain in
Rational Terms
The Presence of
Ones Afterlife.

Yet I know it
in My Head that
Ghost's are True.

I've believed long
since the Moment
that I died!

(From Smoking My
Life By.)

J.Stephen.H.

The Horrors Of Anti-Me

The Horror of Anti-Me. _____________ Out of All of Life's Odd Mysteries, few compare in Horror, to The Existence of Anti-Me; That Shadow of Self, consuming all that One is. (or Could Ever Be.) The Mind, equated with Verse, carries Within an Alternate. A Living (parenthetic) Remark, capable of Existing as an Afterthought while feeding simultaneously off of Leading Context. ______ and I Feel Pieces of Myself Being Eaten by The Anti-Me, during moments of Wakeful Sleep; Harmony seasoned with Irony, down it's hateful gullet goes. Then there is The Soul, (which I traded for Creativity) lost in an uncertain Sea of Demonic Sorrows!! ________ Out of all The Riddles of Ones Self; Few compare to The Mystery of Anti-Me. Which some would declare a Shadow of Hell! (But I'd suggest Ones Better Half Most Likely.) j.stephen.h

Night before Christmas . (ghetto parody)

Night Before Christmas.
(ghetto Parody.)
_________________

Twas the night before
christmas, and all through
the hood; not a cracker
was stirring.
(not even eastwood.)

The meth-lab was
built by the chimney
with care; in hope
that the fumes would
not strike up a flare.

The children all hid
beneath dirty old sheets,
afraid to make noise,
lest their asses get beat.

And I in my boxers,
and ma in her cap,
had just settle down
for a nice hit of crack.

When all of a sudden
there came such a bang,
that I ran from the room,
saying what the f?ck?..dang!

Down Through the Chimney
Like a crazy ass fellow,
came that Jolly Elf Burning
like a Crispy Marshmallow.


He ran tripped through the
House screaming "What the
Hell Dude?"

But From my mouth only
came:" I pay good stamps
for that Food!"

He knocked the lab over,
and set it aflame, and I
swear that no Christmas
was ever this lame.

Then Up Through the
Chimney he returned
double fast; screaming:

I'll get you for This,
Kiss My Jolly Red Ass!

j.s.h.

And So Here We Are.

and so here we are. _________________

And so here were are.

Another secret page,

( never to be read.)

reminiscent of

similar chapters.

(now lost within

my Head.)

I would ask about
the Weather,
but I know you'd
never tell;
and it never
changes anyway.
(for those confined
to Hell.)

I saw a Star last
night that reminded
me of you;
it was crashing from
The Heavens leaving
fiery trails of Blue.

Wishing would be
pointless though,
considering the
gravity of things;
so I swallowed
down my sorrow
and gave thanks
it wasn't me.
(who fell so Far.)

And so Here we Are.
Another chapter
closed in Lifes book
of sad Regrets.
Reminiscent of
Similar Chapters.
(Now lost within
my Head.)

j.s.h.

Like For Like.

Like For Like.
__________

I shall become Silence.
Like for Like.. so that
nothing is ventured,
gained, or taken from
this.

Essentially the same
as I was.
(before dreaming
of Her Kiss.)

A Man more Hollow
than T.S. Eliot could
have imagined.
(A Nightmare Being
seldom fathomed.)

Something No Better
(or worse) than this
Indifferent World.

(I've always thought
to Be a Curse.)

j.s.h. (unfortunately..)

The Fisher of Night.

The Fisher of  Night
knows the haunted hearts
of men. (his own being so
corrupted.)

He tends and feeds them.
(pieces of himself as bait.)

You might see him from
time to time. If ever you
scream evil words, or
walk The Crooked Line.
(yet by then it's Too Late.)

The Fisher is A Reflection
of everything Negative we
Dream into This Life.

A Nightmare walking
The Waking Hours,
repaying Strife for Strife.

Many have fallen by
his Word. Though others
choose to See The Light,
turning their Evil Tides
towards Right.

Regardless...
Beware the Fisher
of The Night.
(for all are bait
within his Sight.)

J.Stephen.H.

This Petty Meat-suit.

A Ghost..Yes.
The Ghost of
Freedom Chained.

The Sad Roar
of A New Slave
to Old Ideas!
(Philosophies
Dead and Vain.)

From the Moment
Heavens Heathen
Fell, and crashed
into the Pits of Hell;
Liberty was perceived
a Restless thing man
sought to recapture.
(yet wisdom in itself
could not dispel the
horrors that came after.)

A Ghost!
Yes!
The Ghost
of Spirit sewn
into the weakness
of this Petty Meat-suit.

Seeking warmth
and tenderness.
(but finding Chaos
more than Truth.)

J.Stephen.H.

One Simple Friend

One Simple Friend.
________________


The snickers feel like razorblades upon his skin,..
cutting past all inner defenses...
stripping away the layers of ego, until his heart
seems painfully thin.

He makes his face a stone,..biting back retorts
that would serve only as fuel upon the fire;
and then moves to another table to be alone.
(thoughts swimming with vengeful desire.)

Rage and desperation are a terrible mix,..
two rabid dogs tied together in a fight to
the death.

While He is The Executioner,...
with a gun for a crucifix.
(and the world shall burn
till nothings left.)

Freak!...Geek!...Nerd!...
A daily mantra of hateful
words.

Slaps to the head...
and trips in the hallways;
with never a smile seen...,
or compliment heard.
_____________

"it's Me or them." he cries.
"me or them!" ..(he repeats
with a laugh.)

Perhaps One Simple Friend
could have prevent the Blasts?
__________________
2
Monster!...Animal...Fiend!
A new mantra of labels to describe
this Being.

A cell in isolation,...with
long nights spent scratching
blank faces on concrete walls;..
and hateful looks of silent
accusation.
(as wails of prisoners echo
down the hall.)

Perhaps One simple Friend
could have prevented his fall?
__________________

Who is the Monster here?
The geeky, nerdy freak who had
the goodness beaten out of him?

a sad, quiet kid who wanted
more than anything just to fit in!!

(Perhaps his World would not
have burned, if One Simple Friend
had listened.)

J.Stephen.H
.

Uncertain Spirits

Uncertain Spirits. 
____________ 

In a Secret 
Place Within Me, 
(where uncertain 
spirits dwell.) 
I feel a grim 
hostility. 
(which makes Heavens 
Love My Hell.) 

I Try to See, 
(beyond The Dark) 
a Better Place 
than This; 
but something was 
Broken In My Heart. 
(and Poisoned By a Kiss.) 

For my Only Friend 
in this Dark Land, 
(with a smile that 
pierced the Night) 
became a hateful 
Hired Hand. 
(who thrusted 
Daggers in my Spine.) 

Thus Love and Hate 
walk hand in hand, 
(like children by 
The River.) 
One shall be The 
Death of Man! 
(and the other my 
Soul Deliver.) 

j.stephen.h.

Heed the noble Savage.

Heed the Noble Savage.
___________________

I sit in My head
for Hours After Dark,..
seeking (within Myself)
Redemption,..yet creating
only Question Marks.
(which Poison thus My
Infant Heart.)

For what am I,
but a Thief of Spirit,
who's Common Mind
does little Justice
to The Nobility of
His Words?

A Pretender claiming
I Am One one !
(yet divided
In Two)
At War with some
Grim Universe!
(which seems to Plant
an Evil Seed in You.)
_

Heed the Noble
Savage, fallen from
The Hands Of Grace;
to See his countenance
Ravaged until He Doesn't
Have a Face!
(and I shall watch the
Shadow in The Mirror
weep with Shame.)

I've considered seizing
the World as if I Own It,..
yet I always seem to meet
my End Devouring Pieces
Of The Clock;
spewing forth a Series
of fractured moments!
(and never does the Irony
of it Stop.)

Heed the Noble Savage
as He tries to Climb the
Top....

J.Stephen.H.

The Next Girl.

The Next Girl.
_______________

The Next Girl could
be your girl,..scared,
and trapped somewhere,
screaming from The Dark;
Alone in the clutches of
a Monster who has no Heart.

It could be Your World
destroyed,..with Hopes
crushed brutally by savage
hands; leading to Sleepless
Nightmares haunting you
every moment of your waking
hours, until you cannot Stand.

How many Tears must A
Mother Shed, for that girl
who only days ago was sleeping
safely in her bed?
Torn between wishing to see
her smile again, and the fear
her Child is Dead.
_____

Heroes are not special men
and women with supernatural
powers, who courageously do
battle against evil.

Being a hero constitutes
choosing do to the right thing,
and that choice is made by
everyday People.

The Woman who took a
shortcut home, and stopped
to offer help to that scared kid.
(who ran away from home
after her stepfather got high
and started screaming again.)

The College guy who said "no"
to his buddies face,..because he
could tell the girl who drank too
much was underage.

The City Cop who works off
the clock, night and day, chasing
leads regardless that he isnt getting
paid.

Heroes come from all walks,
and are present in every race.
________

You could be the one who helps
save the next girl from that heartless
monster,..or see to it that justice is
served for the Parents who lost their
Daughter; simply by being Vigilant,
and Always defendind what is Right
and True. (but the choice is up to you.)

Help save the Next Girl.

J.Stephen.H.

As you Weep from Your Deception by The Sun.

As you weep from your deception by the Sun.
_____________________________

Silence is the surest
way to Kill You;
to Pierce the Angels'
Heart which bleeds
True Lies.

I'll be content here in
My Kingdom full of
Gloom.
(so keep your sad,
deluded Rainbow
Skies.)

Your Petty Wishes
are my favorite
Breakfast Fare,
I eat them daily
with a Smile;
and feed you
bits and pieces
of my Nightmares.
(until your once
great Hope becomes
Denial.)

In The End,
(my pretty, anti-love)
When all is said
and Done;
Misery shall remain
My Trusted Friend.
(as you weep from
your Deception By
The Sun.)

J.Stephen.H.

The Theory of You. (this fact will be the end of me)

The Theory of You.
________________

Swimming in the Theory of You,
what is there to find?,
but senseless hope in impossible
Dreams (or A Nightmares Lie)
which cannot be True.

I prefer the Facts of Life;
facts are certain and exact.
Facts will never leave your Side,
and facts would never break a pact!
(or leave you Dead Inside.)

I have a preference of My Own,
with which most others disagree;
I find content when I'm Alone,
preferring silence over a Loves
 Grim Company.

Other Souls can have their theories,
or swim the sad uncertain seas of
Endless Mystery.
I for one see Life more clearly.
(and this Fact will be the End
of Me.)

J.Stephen.H.

Elaines Dance.

Elaines Dance.
__________________

You dance with me then.
to Keep the Phantoms at Bay.
and Chase away these Imaginary
Friends, who feast upon my Heart
each day!

Would you turn away?
if you saw what lies behind
my face?
Or lower your head in
Shame?
(such Beauty is my
Souls Disgrace.)

Not all Wolves are creatures
of Prey.
Some are compelled to serve
The Sheep,
 and kill The Fiend to
Keep them Safe.
( preventing future Tragedy.)

You Dance with me then Elaine,
to replace this Rusty Spoon which
feeds me Pain;
and allow me to make These Fearsome
Phantoms Fade!
(as my Heart shines more in Love
each Day.)

J.Stephen.H.

A Lost Mans Lamentation

A Lost Mans Lamentation.
___________________

My Heart fills with an unexplained sorrow,
as I cast dead eyes on the sleeping form of
innocence.

A small boy wandering somewhere safe in
dreams, with a cherubic half smile fixed upon
his face.

How can something so real become a mere
illusion?..Once the cruel hands of age and
experience grasp it by the neck and squeeze
the sacred life from it?,..destroying this ideal
perfection which was formerly the advocated
topic of  Wise Men, and content Mothers.

I was that Child once. Before Hateful Father
Time worked his wickedry,..showing me an
evil discipline well versed in the morbid arts of
loss and pain!

Now I am a Man. Struggling alone through
the darkness, in constant pursuit of a Grace
which seems impossible to obtain.
__________

Softly now stirs the sleeping form of Innocence
Lost;..A whisper in a cave of screaming voices
who try (in vain) to speak over top of eachother.
Creating incomprehensible Chaos where clarity
was first intended.

Scratch Blind my bleeding eyes to spare me of
this hellish sight!...Or Free Me God!..from my
never-ending decline into this madness shaped
by so many faithless nights!

Hear this Lost Mans Lamentation, and take pity
on a Soul that sold itself to an impossible Ideal
which Perfection itself could never Hope to obtain!

J.Stephen.H.

Extra Extra! (laugh it all about.)

Extra Extra. (Laugh all about It.)

_________________

Make way folks, make way.

Old Man coming through!

Today he is an infant. 

Tomorrow dead at 32!

Extra...extra. 

Laugh all about it!

(no one here will weep 

for you .)

Clean up the Airwaves, 

and Go Green; 

Mother Nature needs

you for the Global Army. 

So get those blood-stained 

teddy bears in the mail 

before the Holidays! 

(this year Peta sent a 

mutilated chicken to 

put beneath My "Holiday" 

Tree.)

Pay no attention to the 

Bobble-Heads dancing

in front of the curtain. 

They're put there to

transmit a sub-sonic 

pulse of pure bullshit 

so your eyes no longer 

see the horror of it all.

And The one who looks 

like a Mutant Pez-Dispenser

is kinda hot! 

( in a way which rivals every

 mans conception of the Perfect 

Blow Up Doll.)

Make way Folks; Make Way!.. 

Dead Man walking

in this dream called Yesterday!

 Extra, Extra. Laugh all

about it! 

( I didn't feel like Crying 

anyway.)

 J.Stephen.H.

To Love such a Fiend.

To Love A Fiend.
____________

Her mere existence incites the Rage
of Angels,
(who succumb to madness when
she laughs)
and I can no longer turn a blind eye
to the trail of dead flowers
left in her
footsteps path.

To Love such a Fiend
promises only misery
and Eternal Suffering;
Yet I Love her more than
a man could ever Love
Anything.

Irony, thy name is Me!
First, Middle, and Last.
And you represent well
The cruelty of Hells Destiny!
(which is a Future without
the Present, or Past,
deprived of Memory.)

J.Stephen.H.

1,000 watery footsteps.

1,000 watery footsteps.
_______________

1,000 watery footsteps, danced
down the dirty windowpane.
It was a rainy day.
And though the sun was hidden
(from some) it smiled!
(sweetly in some other place.)

There was music!
Every object played
an instrument!
A song tuneless...
with an Angels Chorus
of Contempt!
(for the Devils amusement.)

The villagers watched it
from their rooftops,
(wondering when the storm
would stop.)
as it drowned the screams of
dying livestock,
and killed the ticking of Times
Clock!

Then swiftly from The Highest
Mountain came,
(on a cloud by faithful
angels made)
A Faceless Man in Purest White;
who bears the Seal of Holy Names!

He spoke in tongues before the People,
putting to rest that Raging Storm,
which was a test, (of Natures Evil)
and then his Face took form!

1,000 watery footprints,
dance down The Broken Windowpane,
but while the Son Seems hidden
(from some) he Smiles!
(smiles NOW in every Place.)

J.Stephen.H.

Where the Gone Things Go.

Where the Gone Things Go.
_____________________

"Uncle Jeremy?" (my nephew asks.)
"Yes Boy?"

"Where do The Gone Things Go?"
"The Gone Things?" (I ask bewildered.)

"Yeah. People. You know. Like when
they Die."

"I don't know boy. Maybe somewhere.
Maybe Nowhere. It just depends on what
you believe."

"What do you Believe?"

"Well. I don't believe anyone knows
for certain, but a lot of people believe
that good souls go to Heaven and Bad
Ones go to Hell. I tend to hope they're right."

"Bad people who listen to the Devil!"
(he says.)

Right Boy. Bad people who listen
to the Devil."

"Whats a Soul?" (he asks.)

"hmm. A Soul is You. The part of
you that thinks, and feels, and lives
inside of your body. It's believed
by some that when People die, their
Soul moves on."

"To Heaven or Hell?" (he asks.)

"Yeah Boy. To Heaven or Hell."

(My Nephew starts Crying.)

"Whats wrong Boy?" (I ask him.)

"I don't want you to be one of the
Gone Things! (he yells.)

"Well. I don't want to be one of the
Gone Things either; but it happens to
everyone eventually. We all go in our
own Time. Thats why it's important to
leave behind as many good things as you
can, so the people you love can keep a
part of you in their Soul."

"If you go I want you to GO to Heaven.
So don't listen to the devil Ok?" (he says.)

"O.K. Boy. I'll try not to. But I hear
he's pretty tricky."

"well, he dosen't trick me!, and I wont
let him trick You either."

"Thanks Boy. I appreciate that...
really. I'm sure we'll be fine then."

"Yeah."

"Uncle Jeremy?" (he says.)

"Yes?"

"Love you."

"Love you too Boy."
_________________________________________________________________________________

The Simplicity of my Conversation
with this beloved child opens up the
door to several complex questions that
I still ask myself daily. Torn between a
cynicism shaped by Worldly Horror, and my
Hope that there is something better further
down the Road for those "Gone Things"
who left good things behind.

J.Stephen.H.

The Saddest Dreamer.

The Saddest Dreamer.
__________________

The Saddest of dreamers speak
so much of Dreams that
they never get around to living them.

"I am going to do this some day."
"Tomorrow I'll do that." (they say.)
Then Tomorrow is eaten by Yesterday!
(and we cannot bring it back.)

Now you ask:
" could anything be worse?"
Yes. in fact.
It would be worse to Live in such
a selfish way that Our Dreams become
A Nightmare Curse!
Corrupting every Thing of Beauty,
until even Smiles Hurt!

Are you a dreamer who dreams so
much you do not live?
Or a greedy wretch who takes more
than you try to give?

If so beware of promises made,
to do this, or do that.
For Tomorrow is eaten by Yesterday.
(and we cannot bring it back.)
Live NOW.

J.Stephen.H.

Promising Night

Promising Night.
_____________

She looks into my Eyes
where The Dead Things
wait still Dreaming;
pondering Freedom v.s.
Fate.
(Trying to prevent Her
Soul from Screaming.)

Minimized and reduced to
an enlightening afterthought,
by a New and Trusted Friend;
I lash back with Truths that
could be lies depending on
who Hears Them.
(and what they wish to regain
again.)

The Night has never seemed
so Promising to me,
As it does (now) while I
Seek to Hide Myself the Most.
Taking comfort in My Blinding!
(since what I Crave to See Perishes
The Most.)

JS.H.

The Laughter of Idols.

The Laughter of Idols.
_____________

I crave her irrationally.
She whos face bears
the fate of doomsday;
with cruel eyes open,
yet  resembling a Demon
Dead or dreaming.
(of countless ways to toss
me into the flames.)

My mortal wounds beseech
the salt her lips do pour;
aching to burn, and sting
and tear.
Yet I pretend I cannot feel
her anymore!
(while listening for Hells
Music everywhere.)

The Laughter of Idols
invokes (in Me) A Pity
for those Dying Gods;
who sat once upon their
Thrones of eminent Majesty!
The World  exposed them
all as Frauds.
(she introduced their creator
to Me.)

I crave her irationally;
and sing low a sonnet
to the horrors of her
doomsday face!
For now and eternity.
(or until I meet the waiting
Flames.)

jsh.

Within Reason.

Within Reason.
_____________

"Within Reason."
Such an odd sentiment
in a world so lacking.
(perhaps "chaos willing"
would ring more appropriate.)

"Without the Benefit of a Doubt."
Or a Shadow of Proof To nail
upon Reasons Unsturdy Wall.

Without even a Ladder
to Climb towards Grace!
(though miraculously we
find countless ways to Fall.)

Without Truth, what is there
but a Bigger Hole in Me?
A Darker Abyss No Light
can Shine Through!
Or Hell for All Eternity.
( where I drown in Better
Memories of You.)

I Cling (My Love)
to the Ideal of You.
Without Any Reason
to justify my chain of
Thinking.
A New Obssession!,
(No logic shines through)
which seems the strongest
when I'm drinking.

J.Stephen.H.

And My Prey: (The Heart of Man.)

And My Prey:
(The Heart of
Man.)
_________

It is I
who sees
The Tragedy,
behind Mans
Happy Mask..
that he wears
(half-spite)
in Mockery.

(while
performing
Hellish
Tasks.)

+

Angel Hearts,
Bleeding Dead..

I see you
Frankenstein,..

Creating
Monsters
in My Head!!!


(drowning
In A
World
of Wine.)
__


I
found
Redemption,

beneath
The
war torn
Wings of a
Noble Dragon
Slayer.

He taught
This
Game I know
so well.

(but I am
it's Greatest
Player.)

+

Thus
Monsters
Do
Not
have
A
Chance,

So long
as I Still
Stand,

For I see
The Hunt
as
Romance!!!

and my Prey?

(The Heart of
Man.)
+
Angelic
Souls,
Bleed Me
Dead..

I saw you
Frankenstein...

Creating
Monsters
in My Head!!!!

(while drowning
In a sea of wine.)

J.Stephen.H.

On Beauty

On Beauty.
_________________

The difference between Deceptive Beauty
and Poison?;
One kills The Beast faster and leaves a less
bitter after taste.
The other slowly Murders the Soul
while ones eyes bask in the Mock-Glory of
a Sweet (yet sour) face!

Tis a Dreadful Muse indeed,
which fills the Mortal Heart with
senseless Need!
(but leaves the haunted mind sad,
and Empty.)

Beauty in it's highest form is quite capable
of making a cheap dollar store dress look
like the most expensive armani found;
or transforming a simple burlap sack into
Cinderellas Magic Dream Gown.
Not a Material thing of shallow essence;
but a strong and Power Presence!

And It is to this Rare Beauty that I devote
the entirety of my Being.

J.Stephen.H.

The Drowned Ass.

The Drowned Ass.
_____________

I'm not a horse that
could'nt be led to drink;
I am An Ass who drowned
in the desert, while considering
his barren wasteland of a heart
to Be The Ocean of Love.

J.Stephen.H.

Simple Words. (less a sentence, more a verb.)

Simple Words.
(revised)
____________

Oh, if Love were but a
Picture one could paint
with Simple Words!,..

would you edit out the
Sorrow, and the way
it often Hurts?

Or if you knew
Your Future Life,
and the steps you
had till death, would
you walk Alone in Mortal
Strife? ,

(or enjoy with
others what was left?)

I for one would paint
a Picture of Life with
Simple Words,

yet Love, alas!, is
The Oddest Mixture!
Less a Sentence.
(more a Verb.)

J.Stephen.H.

A Need. (stated in Parenthesis.)

A Need. (stated in
Parenthesis.)
_______________

I have a Need,
(stated in
Parenthesis.)
to
(symbolically)
conceal My
(Hearts)
Misdeeds.

This
(open Space)
is My Prison
(Cage)
where I never
Show My
(true)
Face.

Though You
(the Wise)
might find
(in Me)
A Reflection
of (your own)
Certainty!
If you look
 Beyond.

(these Odd
Parenthesis.)

J.Stephen.H.

(in honor of E.E. Cummings.)

The Sole Pursuit.

The Sole Pursuit.
______________

I am a traveller in My Thoughts,
but remain unmoved by every
Train of Thinking;
Wandering towards A Perfection
that I Lost.
(the moment I assumed that there
was Meaning.)

You cannot win a Battle with you
Shadow,..and every surrender is
merely further retreat,
into A Self-Created Hell,
where Madness follows!
(and the only Purpose found is
in Defeat.)

Every Distance dreamed becomes
the Same. ( once it's in front of me.)
Thus a traveller of thought I shall remain!
(and perhaps the sole Pusuit is My
Own Meaning?)

J.Stephen.H.

The Darkman Cometh

The Darkman Cometh.
________________

A Tale told from two perspectives,
Ancient tragedy, and Hope for New
Beginnings. (in this Life.)
One seeks Jusice, so that wrongs
might be corrected.
(The Other takes Dark Vengeance
with a Knife.)
______________

And behold the Darkman Comes.
On a Chariot of Wraiths riding out
of Deaths Most Secret Scene!
His beliefs make a mockery of The Sun.
(poisoning All sacred, Holy Dreams.)

"A Beauty called." he declares.
"Seeking ( in confused lust) a
New Release."
"And I shall answer!"
(to satisfy the longings of My
Annaliese.)
_____

Bones dipped in Blood;
(a fiendish Artist.)
are the Limbs of countless
Monsters thus,
which create his Magic
Paintbrush.
(sanctifying Symbols of
The Heartless.)

This is the Hopeful Tragedy,
which began at the insistence
of an ancient Beat.
And describes (unjust)
the Consequence.
(when an Angel loves A
Beast.)

The Cruelty of his bitter eyes,
drew in her Perfect Stare;
as corruption then sought Paradise,
but found Hells Own Despair!
(A man who told the truth with Lies,
and seduced her Soul in Nightmares.)

j.s.h.

You can't Save the World Justice Vain.

You can't save the World Justice Vain.
___________________________

It was here the monster first laid
upon his softened brow a fist;...
a lonely cabin in the woods which
has since become pains truest
monument.

Nightmare visions now betray the
sad attempts to wear calm masks,
and choke down the hateful rage
which fuels his Hellish Tasks.

Now comes the Trusty Blade;
to sing a song of Vengeance for
The Lost, which Evil Takes.

And Here it Ends, where it began;
a child beaten into a Man;
losing more of himself along The Way.

What contradiction is A Man without
Fears?, who looks beyond the monsters
gaze untouched;  but hears children laugh
and succumbs to tears!

You can't save the world justice vain.
Or rid it thus of every Monster Near.
Since you first knew (upon evils unveiled
touch)
Your World has truly Ended Here.

J.Stephen.H.

These Moments

These Moments.
____________

These Moments can be Razor Blades.
held by Time, that Bastard Surgeon!
(who cuts The Smiles from My Face.)

Every Clock is in on The Conspiracy.
Cleverly ticking away the seconds
like A Cruel Accountant.
Laughing in the Face of Eternity,
because only Time goes marching
On!
(and theres nothing we can do
about it.)

If I wasn't already Crazy,
it would've surely caught up
with me Today.
But the Sanity Ship sailed Long
Ago!,
and left my mind in Flames.
( making kindling out of Sorrow.)

These moments are Razor Blades,
held by Time.( that bastard surgeon .)
and I am a Junkie for the Pain.
(since life would be non-existent otherwise.)

JSH.

Forever Loved. (Papaw Duck.)

Forever Loved. (Papaw Duck.)
________________


He was an Artist in his own right,
and the wrench in his hand a painbrush;
every machine his canvas.

Many late nights were spent under the
bellies of those metal beasts;
with his mind set in determination,
and calloused palms greased.
(working until the moon dropped
down into the face of the deep.)

A father who built and restored life,
never seeking glory, or recognition
for the things he often sacrificed.

A Mans Man.
Loving Husband.
Papaw Duck.

Gone, but Never Forgotten.
(Forever Loved.)

J.Stephen.H.

more truth in nothing

More truth In Nothing.
_____________

Intent on bringing back to life 
the excitations of ones Soul; 
many will see (in the abyss) 
more truth in Nothing. 
(than a Lovers Kiss.) 

jsh.

A Different Kind of Monster.

A Different Kind of Monster.
____________________

What it's like to be a Different
Kind of Monster;
imagine tearing down stone
walls, and reducing a Proud Devils
Heart to Putty.

I will show them the Fear
they cause; and break A
Bone for every broken
Law.

Remember the Little Boy
who's cries excited the Wolf?
Cries shouted into the Night
that No One Heard.
How he hid in the shadows of
the dusty barn, until his soul
was stained by that Eternal
Mildew Stench?
(That boy became a wolf
who seeks revenge.)

Who Better than the Best
at Being Worse could stop
their Sickness?
Not the pencil pushing suits
two years shy of pushing up
Daisies;
Not the armchair shrinks who
blame mommy and daddy;
Not the Idealistic Dreamers who
mean well, but lack the ability
to look into the Nothing!
(the mantle falls upon Me.)

I weep within as I see beyond
the Concrete Garden, all the
Flowers turning into Thorns;
Soon there will be nothing left
but a variety of Weeds;
Souls corrupted, or Dead long
before their rightful time;
Zombie Infants in Adult Skin
walking The WasteLand!
(singing songs of Murder like
a Nursery Rhyme.)

What it's like to be A Different
Kind of Monster.
(the mantle falls upon Me.)
Tearing down stone walls,
and reducing a Devils Proud
Heart with Fearful Putty.

J.S.H.

Ironic ghosts.

Ironic Ghosts.
__________

Probably the most Ironic
Thing about Ghosts is:

they do Not Believe
in "Us".

JSH.

Priceless Thoughts.

Priceless Thoughts.
___________

I know within My Heart
that thoughts are truly Priceless;
yet I would not charge one penny
for any thought I've ever had.
(for doing so would be an extortion
of Wisdom more appropriately
shared.)

JSH.

A mere Dollar Spent.

A mere Moment Spent.
_________

Sometimes a mere moment in
good company spent
can buy a Man all the Happiness
he spent a Lifetime trying to Purchase.

JSH.

On Prosperity.

On Prosperity.
__________
Many have spent a Lifetime
accumulating things they felt
would make them prosperous;
(and in the process they ignored
the basic things which would have
made them truly Rich.)

JSH.

Distant Beauty.

Distant beauty.
____________

I have seen Beauty up close,
and from afar, and can therefore
testify that True Beauty is  easily
known from any Distance.

JSH.

On genius.

On genius.
______________

A Genius rarely solves the Worlds
Problems, but merely points them
out in ways which should have been
self-obvious.

JSH.

Devils

Devils.
______

Even Devils have Angels sitting
on their shoulders, offering advice.
(it's just that they rarely choose to
listen.)

Yet it's Ironic really, how most who
speak of "The Devil" are often speaking
of themselves through the projection of
someone else, to avoid facing the truth
of what lies within them.

J.Stephen.H.

I Loved Once.

I Loved Once.
____________

I Loved Once,
and it Hurt.
Now Here I Am
Loving again.
(and it Hurts Less.)

Perhaps if I continue
to Love it will eventually
come to the point where
I feel No Pain at All?

J.Stephen.H.

A Beautiful Appearance.

A Beautiful Appearance.
_________________

Beauty has Never been what
it "appears" to be.
it's always seemed to be beautiful
based on your idea of a beautiful
appearance.

JSH.

Headed Nowhere.

Headed Nowhere.
_____________

If I were to offer Everything I had
to help the World along on it's Path;
we would reach a Standstill.
(for I have Nothing to offer
in a that's World Headed Nowhere.)

J.Stephen.H.

The Worlds Greatest Loser

The Worlds Greatest Loser.
______________________

At Times I feel like the Worlds
Greatest Loser; but then I remember
that it's a Big World out There, and
I'm still Alive.
So the Battle has really just begun.
(which gives me a while to win back
the Pieces of Myself I lost
along the Way.)

J.Stephen.H.

The Thorn

  The Thorn.
__________

I am A Thorn who
will Forever Crave
The Rose,..So Ugly
that I see something
of Beauty in Damn
near Everything.

I watch Angels on
a daily basis do
such Human Things
that it often Breaks My
Devil Heart,..And I
Wish (beyond Sacred
Moments) that  My
World was Not So
Dark.

J.Stephen.H.

In Parting from the Common Flock.

In parting from The Common Flock.
_______________________________

In parting from the Common Flock I have found a
Very Odd Bird indeed. Who (in spite of everything)
manages to Fly with Broken Wings.

Nothing can hold it back from the Heavens, but it
chooses to fly headlong into Cages. For it is there
(in confinement) that we come to understand the
Riddle cast by Historys Pages.
(Which has been told, and retold again for many Ages.)

Unlike several other Birds, who wallow pitifully in
their Stool, I understand the prison built by Words,
and choose not to be Destinys' Fool, but my own Self.
(the only Kingdom anyone can Rule.)




J.Stephen.H.