AngelHaunt
http://www.angelhaunt.net/
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I don't know a lot about the author of these poems - what
I do know - although he also goes by the handle "Angelhaunt,"
apparently his righteous name is Jason Ratcliffe. I discovered his
poetry while surfing the net at the poetry exchange and was immediatly
dazzled. I do have a short bio on this fellow I'm a 28-year-old schizophrenic. I haven't written
poetry for years but I am constantly writing fiction -- trying to capture
my psychotic experiences on paper. I live on disability and take
usually one class a semester at the University of Colorado at
Denver. That gives me a lot of time to write, and I'm very thankful
that I can afford to spend so much time on my art. Thanks for
reading my poetry and enjoy. JR "OCTOBER ANGELS"
Darker darker
Deepened rhymic
Dye your spirit ever deeper
Fill your soul with life of fire
Find the ancient
Feel your sacred soul
Darker darker
Drink in minted drops of water
Weave in glory with the grim
Hear the wisping
See the deep
Culminating
Mazes laid
Go darker darker
"ON SOUND AND ECSTACY"
Call
This,
"COW BRAINS" Jason Stuart Ratcliff He wants to worship cow brains. He wants to have something to worship, and he wants that thing to be cow brains. He wanders the old temple, wishing he could worship cow brains. He finds some cow brains there, and worships them. She prefers to worship cow hearts. She doesn’t like the roaches that infest the temple. The roaches are quite an annoyance. The roaches are more than an annoyance. She wants to worship cow hearts, and doesn’t like the roaches. He finds some cow brains, and, upon finding them, he worships them. There are some roaches eating the cow brains. He doesn’t brush off the roaches that are eating the cow brains, and ends up worshiping them at the same time that he worships the cow brains, since they are mixed in with them. She finds a cow heart at the temple, and worships it. She prefers to worship cow hearts. She sees that the temple is filled with roaches. She is disgusted at the roaches and simply wants to worship cow hearts. Before worshiping her cow heart, she shoos away the roaches that infest it. The temple is completely infested with roaches. She hopes that none of her worship will find its way to the roaches. She burns incense and worships a cow heart. For worship, she prefers cow hearts. He lights his own incense and worships his cow brains. He knows some people eat cow brains, though he himself has never eaten cow brains. He knows that they eat cow brains especially in places like Mexico. But he prefers to worship cow brains, not eat them. It doesn’t occur to him that his worship is reaching the roaches, instead of the cow brains. It is. She suspects the temple is infested with rats and mice as well as roaches. She sees rat or mouse droppings here and there. She doesn’t know whether it’s rats or mice that leave the droppings. She suspects it may be both rats and mice. She tries to brush the roaches off the base of the incense holder. She doesn’t like roaches. She considers whether she may go to a temple where there are no roaches. She thinks that she would prefer worshiping cow hearts in a temple without roaches. He hopes to see one of his comrades in the temple, one of the types that prefers to worship cow brains. He has seen those types before in the temple, has seen them worshiping cow brains. There are many floors in the temple. It is not the type of temple with a very tall ceiling; rather, it has many floors. There are little holes in the walls where the roaches enter and exit. The roaches often suck up the worship he intends to send to the cow brains. They are eating the cow brains, and infest them inside out. He neither intends for the worship to go to the roaches, nor does he suspect that it does. But it does. He wonders how many floors high the temple goes into the air. He suspects several, though he worships cow brains on the ground floor, and has never gone upstairs. He wonders how many floors the temple goes underground. He suspects several, though he worships cow brains on the ground floor, and has never gone downstairs. She wonders if there are more or less roaches in the basement. She thinks, More, probably. She does her worship of cow hearts on the second floor. She is deeply disturbed at the thought that her worship, which she intends for the cow hearts, is reaching the roaches. It is. She often sees men walking through the temple swinging censers. They walk, pause, bend, mumble, pray, step, genuflect, pause, moan, swing their censers, and continue on. They don’t seem much bothered by the roaches. The temple is filled with, besides roaches, worshipers of every stripe. Some are bearded, some are not. Some are female, some are not. Some have long hair, some do not. Some have shaved heads, some do not. Some are bothered by the roaches, some are not. Some worship cow hearts, some do not. Some worship cow brains, some do not. The worship of some of them reaches the roaches. He wants something to eat, and crawls his way across a cow brain. His little legs scamper over the thing, till he finds himself a good fatty part of it, then he starts to eat it. It is very moist and bloody: just the way he likes his cow brains. But suddenly, he finds himself being worshiped. He is worshiping a bit of cow brains that has roaches on it. He wonders if some men and women prefer pig brains. He knows that some men and women prefer cow hearts. By deduction, he decides some men and women may prefer pig hearts. He looks at the roaches on the cow brains he is worshiping. They seem startled. He thinks it’s because of his presence. His presence may make them nervous, he thinks. The presence of the type of people who kill roaches would be outright dangerous. He supposes they have no way of knowing if he is the type to kill roaches. They seem very nervous, though he doesn’t know it’s because they are startled at being worshiped. The worship comes off him in heavy white rays and fills them up, causes them to puff up and be mighty. This makes them seem nervous, and startled. He doesn’t know it’s because they are being worshiped by him. She supposes she may, after all, go to the temple across town. There, there are no roaches. But they only worship cow brains at that temple, and she prefers to worship cow hearts. She wishes she knew of a temple without roaches, and which also had worship of cow hearts. She prefers to worship cow hearts, over cow brains. But she detests worshiping roaches, which is what she is doing, since the roaches are sucking up all her worship. She suspects this is the case, and it deeply disturbs her. It is the case. The men come by again. She sees them come by in the hall. They bow, move, scuttle, groan, bend, wave, and move along. They swing their smoking censers as they move along. He wants to eat some cow hearts. He scurries across the floor on his way to a nice big cow heart. He makes it to the altar where there is a big cow heart sitting in plain view. He crawls upon the cow heart, the nice bloody cow heart. He finds a good bloody vein, and starts to eat. Suddenly he is aware that he is being worshiped. He breathes in the rays of worship, as he is being worshiped. He puffs up really big, for he is being worshiped. He has forgotten to eat the cow heart. Suddenly he sees his worshiper, and his worshiper sees him. She is horrified that she has been worshiping him. He deflates considerably. She waves her hand at him, and he runs away. She has become overwhelmed by the roaches. She wonders just what it is that is disgusting about roaches. She knows there is something disgusting about roaches that not one of God’s other creatures has. She wonders what exactly this great disgusting thing about roaches is. She wanders downstairs, and sees a man there worshiping cow brains with roaches all over them. "Don’t worship those things!" she calls to him, meaning the roaches. "But I wish to worship these things!" he declares, meaning the cow brains. "But you mustn’t worship such things!" she calls, meaning the roaches. "But I must worship these things!" he declares, meaning cow brains. She leaves him, oblivious to his meaning. He watches her leave him, oblivious to her meaning. © copyright 2000 "LIFE IN BLACK AND WHITE" Jason Stuart Ratcliff Frank and Peter are brothers, twin brothers. Sara and Michelle are sisters, twin sisters. When Frank and Peter awake in the morning, they carry their sisters Sara and Michelle down the stairs on their backs. They try to feed them, but these sisters are dead. When people see them feeding their sisters in the morning, they say, "Why are you doing that? They’re dead." "Yes," say Frank and Peter, "they are dead." When Frank and Peter are done feeding their sisters, they give them a morning bath. "Why are you doing that?" say the people. "They’re dead." After bathing Sara and Michelle, Frank and Peter dress them and set them in the living room to watch TV. Sara and Michelle watch TV all day through dead eyes, while Frank and Peter go to work, as one must work to live. When Frank and Peter get home, they seat their dead sisters at the table for dinner. "How was your day today, Michelle?" asks Frank. "And how was your day today, Sara?" asks Peter. The sisters say nothing, for they are dead. After dinner Frank makes tea, and Peter does the dishes. The four of them sit, Frank and Peter and Sara and Michelle, with teacups in front of each. "Well, did you see anything interesting on TV today?" asks Frank. After tea, Frank and Peter load Michelle and Sara atop their backs, and mount the stairs, then lie these dead down in their beds. "Goodnight," says Frank. "Goodnight," says Peter. When night comes Sara and Michelle rise, and carry Frank and Peter downstairs atop their backs. "Why do you do that?" say the people. "Frank and Peter are dead." "Yes," say Sara and Michelle, "they are dead." Frank and Peter are brothers, twin brothers . . . "Out There" Fraiser Crane's associate warns him about making friends with people who call in to his radio show. "Be careful," she says, "There are a lot of wackos out there." On TV and radio shows there are references every once in a while about people "out there", people not like the rest of us, and who everybody knows the rest of us should be careful never to speak with. I am that wacko who sits in a filthy dim apartment, watching Jay Leno and telling him my thoughts with psychotic telepathy. I am that 240-pound, 6-foot-2 tall man who has no friends, no job, nothing to do with his time; who takes rejection hard, and who is more afraid of a beautiful woman than a mugger. I am that demented and lonely person who would be glad to be met, in the media, with the condescending sympathy the disabled hate; for what I am met with is ridicule and hostility. What does it mean to say people shouldn't make friends with the very lonely? What does it mean to say the people who need people the most should be avoided? There are over 2 million of us "out there", America. It's time you owned up to your part in the torture that is our lives. The Members of the Circus The members of the circus are very happy. The bearded lady is sexy, or
would We sit in the circus to watch. We watch the acrobats. They do very
dangerous The circus has strange spectacles. There is a boy with two heads that
we can We see in the circus the thing in the jar. Nobody knows what it is. It
looks We go through the circus, looking at the lions in cages. One of us
throws The members of the circus are truly happy. The boy with two heads likes
to There's a magic show at the circus. A man dressed in black saws the
bearded We look at Hitler's brain in a jar at the circus. "You really think
that's The Secret Society He wants to join a secret society. There is a particular secret society
out The members of the secret society spend much of their time in keeping
people He goes at them to the left, trying to get in, but they keep him out;
he The members of the secret society come together, pray, eat, talk,
straighten He drops down on them from above, trying to get in, but they keep him
out; He forms a society of people who want to join the secret society.
This There is a core to the secret society. There is a core and it¹s made up
of He wants to join the secret society. He goes at them from the left,
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