Cat's Demonic

Cat's Demonic ~ * ~
(the story of a demonic cat that tries to take over the world with evil. Set in the era of the 1920s)


Part 1 Installment-


There was a great evil that blanketed planet Earth which no one could truly understand. It crept between the doors in the refrigerators when one opened them, and through the cracks when they were closed in order to meander throughout houses in enormous spectacles of a glittering, black, art which could never be seen- so claw-like was the quality of the masses that stuck to the fold of the ceiling, gripped the walls as oozing goo that shined and those seeping globs of straight-up, black sheaths that tickled the curtains with groping, itching fingers- that it clung like leeches over all objects in the home. The worst part about the evil substance, though, was that it could never be seen, and, although the inhabitants of each house in which it co-existed felt its presence, not a soul knew from whence it came, for it simply swayed within the house curtains unyielding, dripping onto the faces of married couples when they kissed, snug and warm beneath their sheets- it fell from the tops of fans when they were switched to 'on,' so that it could fly about the room in the air, happily unnoticed- for the evil thrived, wherever it could make one miserable- and where it existed, that is where . . . it most often existed . . .

Over the world this blackness was siphoned through an invisible tunnel which no one had the ability to discern, for not ever the most meticulous scientist would have had the ability to use any of his prodigious gadgets to depict its particular place within the ozone layer- the reason for this was quite simple, in fact it could not have been plainer, because, how plain is nonexistence? The fact is, harsh as it is to say to the critics of this world who live their own, self-satisfied and happily egotistical lives, who fervently seek after their own interests and think that they are the center of everything, that, in complete honesty such mythological things exist as magic. And such it remains in the case of the black cat known as Lucifer, who actually controls everything, and is in actuality, the center of everything in life. Lucifer, who rules over all that is underneath the sun, anything that is a part of what, in the scheme of the busy world as we know it, dwells in and around us. In an around us, meandering between the door of our cabinets and our dressers, underneath the fold of blankets upon our beds, is the evil which is owned by the cat Lucifer.

Lucifer was not always a demonic Socialitiera, or what is basically known as someone who is highly controlling, and in fact, he once had gathered unto himself the attentions of various rulers from other worlds, those which we do not know of, but suffice it to say that not everything good lasts forever . . . although a fair ruler this cat became rather bored by his truly mundane duties, and he wanted for diversity. Now, I am not speaking of the diversity of races or creeds or ethnicity, but that which is rather similar, in some strange but creative manner, to Lascivious, or two forces that always work within a tandem. Although most people are not graced by this knowledge, Lascivious was actually a part of Lucifer's life in one of the most fascinating ways imaginable. The rulers of several different universes were poignantly marked by the balance of Lascivious because good and evil bounced back and forth between all of them. The other rulers always left out poor Lucifer when they shared their powers with one another, but he was a very mellow black animal, and everyone just as well assumed that he was content simply to have the strength of goodness. Therefore they kept their own powers and strengths to themselves. The most prominent of these- was of course Lascivious.

Lucifer decided one day that he wanted to steal Lascivious and add evil to his own world like the others, so when the power of evil flew throughout the universe on its way to an unknown destination, he decided that he would steal the power of evil so that he, too, could create the balance. It was the 1920s on planet Earth at the time this happened, so the world was enwrapped by these strange things called fads, and woman were beginning to assert their independence more and more. When evil struck the flux of society then, most people did not immediately feel the effects of its presence. While they traveled to work, took care of the children, and kissed their spouses goodbye, the force of Lucifer's evil, which had created a magical seesaw over everything, remained unseen. Lucifer himself was the only one who was privy to the golden creation which he had himself been able to generate. It hung in an unknown destination that no researcher or scientist could ever identify. The ethereal being prided himself upon the fact that none of the other controllers of the various life planets had noticed what he had done. And, as he sat curled up in front of an unseen fireplace, from an unknown space in time, he looked down upon the effects with interest.

Now Lucifer was a strange piece in the word called existence, for he was magical. He wasn't anything like any other living organism which one could depict. He was a cat with a penchant for black tea, and nearly burnt toast in the morning. One who met Lucifer might think that he was quite ordinary in fact- but, there was something strange about him. Something different. Like the screw in a machine which had fallen. Lucifer was nothing like your typical, ordinary house-cat. He was unique in his desires and his interest. He also had a few friends from planet Earth with whom he interacted.
The first of these was a white hound dog known as Sparkscretentia, who was as well a magical being. The second was a large, mostly green macaw who was known under the name of 'Creolish,' although everyone called her 'Glisten.' The last of his friends, with whom he often interacted, was a large tiger looking cat who was commonly known as 'Jasper.'

Many times, during the afternoon, when Lucius was in need of company, he would speak to his friends through the line of a magical telephone that was hung upon a star in the black space around him and call them to his living arrangement for a spot of tea. His friends thought that the black tea that he made was delicious. During this frame of time, in which they would engage in decent chatter, for good talk was found rarely in these times of nefarious evil, they would watch with interest the new developments taking place upon planet Earth. Lucifer himself was quite satisfied by the excellent progress that he had generated.

"Look," he said, leaning over from his place in his favorite armchair. "That woman just lost her job to another man again. Is the pink skirt the reason that she was terminated?" He and his friends then had an animated discussion about all of the potential reasons. On another day, a man that was wearing all blue was walking around with a large sign fastened to a long stick. His friend Jasper wanted to know how common it was to see this.

"Quite common, I think," Lucifer answered him.

"Why is he dressed in blue?" asked the macaw, Glisten.

"I think he prefers it," said Lucifer contemplatively. "Ever since I sent the force of evil down to planet Earth everyone has been acting bizarrely."

"I think it is remarkable," said Jasper.

"Quite fascinating," added the dog, Sparkscretentia.

And so, in like manner the three friends continued to applaud Lucifer's efforts. While time progressed, the strangest changes which the feline of this bizarre Socialitiera could not have in his wildest dreams imagined, started to occur. The four friends sat patiently waiting, avidly enjoying the evil which they had wrought. And people went about their lives, completely oblivious to the demonic cat controlling them, seemingly content on the outside, yet never knowing, never wondering about the other presence in their homes- which was slowly taking over their lives.

The Devil in Disguise- Connecticut Tragedy

Quote from a Reporter:

“And today the devil came to this town . . . and this town will have to live with this . . . the rest of their lives!”

Tribute to the Fallen Children in Connecticut ~

                                                                               

The Devil in Disguise –

The devil came to our town,

He was a devil,

That was dressed like a human.

He was the son of a school teacher,

And he carried a gun.

Everyone has a pistol though,

Stashed away in their drawers to hunt,

Not everyone hunts down people,

Or turns their bullets on school-children.

Many children came down with the gun,

Falling like baby deer would,

That prance about in a little gay arc,

Until met with that human-

The hunter,

Of kids,

The devil in disguise.

The devil in disguise,

Came to Sandy Hook,

Removed that weapon that many own,

As hunters,

Hunters that shoot full grown buck.

Yet this one shot,

Gay little babes,

Looking forward to Christmas,

And how does one say to that,

The man is unstable?

He was a devil that ruined Christmas,

The son of a schoolteacher,

That shot down her babes,

A devil,

One that was in a human disguise.

Crying in the Darkness- a tribute to the Connecticut Shooting victims

~ Crying in the Darkness ~

Dark times ahead,

Of everyone in the world lies,

But those who have magic,

Give to this evil spirit.

They lift up their wands of red flame,

Which tremble beneath the fire,

That shoots straight from the owners,

To cover the wand,

Right out their hearts.

Although their hearts are bleeding,

The wands of magic from their fiery breasts,

Tremble with passion, and fire, and zeal-

No one can stop the arcs of shooting red,

As they roar to life,

And our eyes look upon the dead ones,

Gentle children that haven’t visited,

Where they still need to go,

Their future plans,

Christmas gifts,

The dreams in their breasts and their own brochures,

Of lands that are forgotten,

Never to be trod on by pattering feet,

And tiny toes-

Or lost hair ribbons from bobbing pigtails,

While the passion arcs now twist about,

In the form of linking hands,

And people praying,

And singing,

Hoping for a better way.

The future,

Holds nothing much,

But betwixt the magic in our breast,

We are able to move on,

For thankfully we shed a tear,

During a ripping crisis,

That brings a certain magic,

A certain song and movement . . .

To every single person.

We who grieve,

Who are grieving in ripping howls,

Are comforted,

By the ability to cry,

To sing and to pray,

On this cold, terribly biting winter’s night-

When all should be at rest,

But are instead-

Walking dead people.

May God be with the souls on this terrible night,

That has shed cruelty upon them,

And may the magic that we share,

Be our guide,

And the tear our song,

That will forever send out,

The message-

Of love.

Blue Leaves/Poetry

Blue Leaves

The rest, at my elbow,

Twirling into my hair,

Or that of Sheila little dancer,

Three or four she is,

Into whose body leaves conversed,

In an animated talk, tis true tis true,

To her of her,

A beauty queen,

And- look! She’s covered.

They have created from the,

Wind’s blowing steam,

A steam of-

Cold cooking a mystery,

That helped their cause,

Of creating something,

With their talents together,

A pretty, blue-leaf queen.

Ah, and I sit here,

With leaves in my hair, wondering . . .

Could it be me next, who becomes one?

An iced up figure of excellent beauty-

(like blue icing a cake-)

As I walk into work one day,

Dancing like the little girl,

Covered in blue leaf mystery,

My blue leaves . . .

How I do love the fall!

Fall's Golden/Poetry

    Fall’s Golden ~

Shimmers in gold and red,

Leaves fall quietly,

To the black mists,

Earth,

Where speckled rain,

Waxes over,

A glistening, black,

Sparkle,

Of an infinite beautiful mist,

Serene presence.

It rises up to show

A powerful presence,

Wearing a black cloak,

Thundering darkness,

With black onyx,

But eyes, jewel-bright.

It reaches to the leaf,

Whispering,

‘Go, go away,

Forever, and then forever,

Somewhere,

I don’t care where,

Just so long as,

Your power,

A silken, golden leaf,

Adorns the ground,

To frame my darkness,

Empowering the Earth with light.

Fall makes a pretty picture.

Haunted Fancy/Halloween Poetry

Haunted Fancy

Cats that know,

what it is in pumpkins,

for my Jasper took,

the wick that was in mine,

tore it to shreds, blow,

by blow,

by blow,

until, with a puff, a whiff,

the flick-flick,

died,

just to show me,

that music trembling through me,

of eerie insecure goblin mannerisms,

who swept beneath the shutters,

of the old house,

died,

because they cleaned too much,

and goblins are not supposed to clean.

There was no one around,

that Halloween night,

and the ghosts, the ghouls, and the deadened specters,

had no one to frighten away from-

their long, curling flaking nails.

I thought I saw,

a ghost sweep past,

with a broom, to sweep literally!

Odd that it could hold a broom,

with pumpkin-fastings,

as I watched the old skeletons,

stare with eyes that drooped,

over long flapping tongues,

at the pumpkins . . .

jack-o-lanterns.

That is what they are called.

I gleaned the name,

from my cat Jasper,

who-

regally blew out the wick,

tore the flames to pieces as the wind blew it,

over the trees and through the woods . . .

finally, back into the old haunted,

dilapidated, cruel building,

that had burned down,

years ago now,

by the flame from a-

jack-o-lantern.

A jack-o-lantern!

That is what blew down this house.

Now, it is the site of pumpkin-fasting, and black cats with ominous senses . . .

who understand the spirit of the old house.

Jasper,

keeps going back to that wick,

as though he knows,

the house's history,

and the ghosts of the old place,

wait . . .

and wait . . .

until they can feast on those pumpkins.

Tonight has become my own Halloween,

in which Jasper has created for the ghouls a treat,

not one with treat bags,

but a feast,

for after midnight,

the ghouls eat the pumpkins,

and the jack-o-lanterns,

that we pretend to have named,

become automatic pies for all of us.

This house is special.

For it gives back a little,

of what they once lost,

as the goblins and the ghosts look forward,

to our own,

self-made Halloween . . .

in this house of haunted creative fancy-

of dreams.

Dedicated to Dr. Ann Russel

Sparkling Jewelry/Poetry

Sparkling Jewelry

You were wearing a bracelet,

And I didn’t know its truth,

For all of those glitters,

The sparkles and the shine,

You see were in my mind,

But I couldn’t see them,

Upon that pretty wrist.

The blue jewels, deeply,

Mellowing, soft, adorning,

Your wrist had spoken,

Like a thief in stoic night,

Who wanted a bit, of something,

That we didn’t know.

They sparkled like packs,

Of handsome men that,

Were lowly pilfering thieves,

Because they robbed you.

You shook your wrist, jingle,

Beautiful, lovely jewels,

Of blue that gazed serenely,

Out.

At the door,

When they fell gracefully, thump,

On the ground of suave carp-

And then we smiled,

Held by their charm,

Until they blackened before us.

They robbed you of- something,

Like the thief I imagined,

Like dozens of thieves that came,

In the night when you were asleep,

At a midnight blue picture,

That billowed around your cradled head,

Before we saw what glittered.

It was a simple memory.

You had dreamt it all,

The glittering jewelry still rested,

Upon your wrist,

Lovely blue that I so loved,

And the imagined thieves had left us.

Your green eyes opened,

Fazed by midnight lusting,

That blanketed your dwelling,

With stars.

And then you wished back,

That time you long ago had,

Before bowing,

In a silent song of godly strength,

Thanking him for the imagined thieves,

Sordid dreams,

Stolen jewelry,

That took you knew not what,

Praising the fact that what was taken,

Was never found,

The bracelet bobbing,

In the misty eyes of sleep,

Only in sleep,

Was not,

And no omens portended,

Any losses.

Loss.

There wasn’t loss-

Because- you aren’t,

Not lost save for in dreams Saunie.

Because while you perpetually stargaze,

God looks down with sparkling rain,

Stars and moonlight,

So . . .

Where is the loss my Saunie?

-Dedicated to my Saunie. Love Brooke.