-INTERFACE- Little lights on a picture screen, Forming patterns, Sacred words, secret words. Dancing about fantasies That burn up the screen with lust unfelt since Lipstick and lace were the center of my universe. New beauty, old problems; Misanthropy is still supreme law. Across the net, With flaming hearts and flaming words, Romance is my life Making love to YOUR eyes Through the computer screen As I make love to your mind, Like it or not. Let your fantasies unwind into my virtual heart. (not real, just virtual) Love me, never forget me, m'dear, As I run the net, waiting for your name.... $LOGOUT -MARTYR- Dead flesh covering a burning heart Clawing for dear breath, Screaming for life. A sucker is fucked every minute; I was the last one to get screwed. Take the back door, The obvious blinds the fool too easily. The scratches drip her blood, Not mine. Freeing the angel from the corpse My love is in that angel My life is in her freedom. Fly, little angel, clad in night, I shall take your wounds. If you live, I shall not bleed in vain. -COVEN- Burning words, Across a dimly-lit screen, Virtual worlds, almost people, Dancing in patterns Of light and despair. A sea of Chaos Two ships pass in the night, Under the stars, They form one. Gripped in an iron embrace, Lips savoring the taste of the other, On the floor, two Masks, Discarded, unused. Real love, real Passion, Real woman. A phantom steps from his despair Onto an unfriendly earth, For the hint of a kiss. Sing with me, the music of the night. I am your star. - DISCONNECT - A glowing screen, Black, block letters Painted onto cold plastic. These are my lovers. Flying through a fantasy Of ones and zeros, A mind, Clad only in brash thought And hidden fear, Daring to be who I am, Therefore being who I am not. Words, letters, symbols, My mead, my ambrosia, My heart feeds on this As it recoils from a cold space. A lonely coyote Howls from the dark, A few too many Empty sockets, For this slicer. A dulled mind And a glazed look, A mind, Once beautiful, Thirsts for nights Of bad poetry, Italian sodas, And no life threatening decisions. Screaming in pain, Silently in a crowded terminal room, Sobbing softly, In a virtual bed, A mind, Clad in brash thought, Hiding behind a tear. -Chained- Playing solitaire in the dark, I can't see the cards But that doesn't matter. Dancing to the beat of no drummer at all. Where the hell are you? The dead move The pawns of my heart. I sit, chained to a pill. There is strangeness all around me Or am I the alien? Is sanity statistical? Does it matter? Devils laugh, gods tease. I reach for every card But each is the Ace of Spades. Here, I cry silently, Chained to a pill. -Alien- Alone, in a crowded room, Conversing with myself. Even my echo ignores me. Echoes are such easy prey To the will of the majority. A cause without a rebel, And a rebel without a clue. Standing in a jungle of masks, Unwilling to hide my heart. Each has tasted the apple But I do not fear the evil, I revel Deal with it. Don't like it. A simple hug will make me forget, Forget the streamers and my echo, And embrace the sweet honey Of my alien. Don't leave, please. -Razor- Sliding along the edge, I understand the risks. Playing with tigers, Soaring with eagles, That's a long way to fall. I understand the risks. The emptiness around my neck Will never be filled quite the same. I enjoy it, though. Why? Because it's there. Along the razor's edge, Coveting each slice, Each growl. Triumphantly, I kiss And drown myself in the risks. -Performance- Fade to black, and the curtain rises, The midnight hour waxes and wanes. I am the chameleon, Too afraid to show my real color. All the world's a stage, And the streamers are but props. Here, I fade to black. Shadows are the world, Light is but a pale reflection. In the dark, away from illusions, Waiting backstage, What's my cue? Others revel in the glory, My blood is in the work, unseen. But that's my job, my life, my hell. When the spotlight hits I fade to black. CURTAIN. -Backstage Blues- A monologue (BOB is sweeping as he begins to speak to the audience) BOB:I think it's safe to say that we did a good job on the set. We always try. None of this abstract scenery like you see on Broadway. We go for realism. I mean, I saw a production of Henry V, the entire set was scaffolding set up in the shape of a tower. That's just stupid. How can you take the actors seriously if their background is a joke?(Pause) I guess that's the whole point. Those show offs are on stage and everything else is to make sure that they don't look like complete idiots. We're never seen, back behind this set, no glory, lotsa guts. I don't mind, though. I try to be as humble as possible. It's part of the job description, because if the audience sees you, then you've screwed up. It's kind of an unusual idea theater, humility, I mean. We get no applause, no lights; it seems like a thankless job, but the rewards are terrific. When you hit that light cue just right or the whole audience gasps after you've just changed the stage in total darkness, there's no other feeling like it in the world. Sure, the applause is mostly for the actors, but they wouldn't be that if it weren't for us. There is no such thing as just a crewperson, everyone has a part. My lines are silent and my costume all black. When the lights come up, I fade into the backstage. Actors give us the characters, but we make the magic. Sounds conceited, don't it? Well, so be it. It's the truth, at least it's close to the truth. Just don't forget I'm back here; you can't see me but I'll always be backstage (Pause) If all the world's a stage, where do the crewpeople go? (sigh) Well, I gotta go. Hope you'll see the show tomorrow. You'll like it. Later. (BOB exits, broom over one shoulder) -Miel- Mi sangre fue fria. Por favor, no me salas. Levantandome en la lluvia, Yo espero por mi vida, Mi amor, mi miel. Solo, en la guerra de mi corazon. No me salas! -Style- Fade to black, and the curtain falls. A new show is just beginning. No, it's not my style. Undercurrents of an unfriendly space, Tormenting, never ceasing, Tempting, teasing Where did I go wrong? Tied to a mask, souring. Life is only sweet When we're arm-in-arm. Too scared to dare the break Or break the knot. Will I be happier? Will she hate me? Will I be happy? No, that's not my style. Down the drain At twice the speed of sound, They can only hear my cries Behind me. Endless pains, endless sorrows Will I fail or succeed? Do I care? No, that's not my style. -Words- Changing the alphabet New sounds, strange ideas, Ours alone to share. Hiding behind new symbols Masking an old cause. I can't win, but who cares? Share my words, baby. Maybe, together, It won't hurt as much. I'm here, silent, loving, Listening, You're not alone. -Duel- Cowering in the corner, Hoping for the chance to escape. My vorpol blade is keen, Keen as cold logic. Hacking, Fighting, Dying Never ending Never winning Each cut is healed, Each head regrown, Faster than my thoughts can strike. It's a hydra, I knew that in eighth grade. I will never stop. I can never triumph Slicing with my mind. I feed of its blood, Yet drown in my own. It's my job To martyr society With stinging words. I can't win, That's not my style. What your damage? One hit to the starboard ego. I'll go down fighting. I WILL NOT SUBMIT. -Ultimatum- You unconventional people are so . . . Conventional With your power plays and undercurrents. It's not my business. I'm not involved. Of course I'm not. Tough shit. Each strand pulling tighter Spider silk, isolating precious air. They never touch my neck But I suffocate all the same. Woven between the fingers of unnoticed hands, Pulling I'm dying, slowly. This is not the end, The demons laugh towards me, Not at me. Each in turn, I must retaliate. Deceit first; next victim, Hung each by his own strand. Only I will survive, I'm taking them down, Laughing Avenging the pain, The pain of my life. No weapon but my bare mind, No defense but two pills, Half green, half yellow. It's not my business, I know. Do what you must, But the politics must die. We have a score to settle; Seventeen years is a long time. This is the end, pal, For you or me. You did it once, a long time ago. Never again - Phantom - Burning passions In an unfriendly space Alone Talking with weird gods Razorblades, warm and caressing Savoring each slice, Each drop of life Lipstick on scattered thoughts Ruffled pages, each word Precious as music Corrupting the day Welcome to the night Where colors Are more than light Dancing alone, Juggling swords. Fire in my veins. Dance with me My strange duet. Taste with me The fruit of sweet vice Sing with me The music of the night. - Empty - Spinning worlds, dizzy words No balance left No ground beneath my feat Erratic energy, confused thoughts. A new world shall come. Will you be ready? Lying in my bed, Looking at the ceiling For answers, for companions. So alone I sit in light and dark, Though I like the dark. I can't see the void around me. But I can feel the vacuum Suffocating. Sweet kisses, sickeningly sweet, These I yearn for. I own the word Of my existence. As always, On a pillar of thought, Where it's not possible The word is the same, My word, my existence, My life: Alien - Sapphire - Silent pictures, background scenes Whispering, behind a mask Admiring from afar Sidelong glances, shaking words Wondering, Who's behind those pretty eyes? Forgotten tears, not by me, Looking for answers Unspoken, unknown, Behind a girlish smile And a poet's heart. A hunter seeks For a heart like his own, Looking behind sapphire eyes. Startling contrast, black and white Poet's words and paradox All searching, For a heart like his own. - Numb - Hovering tears Just at the edge of my eye. Waiting to explode, But Just can't. Buried feeling, iron will, Flowing pen and Steady breath. Too numb to hurt But not to feel. Dancing sighs In a test tube. Watching, Observing, Powerless to do else Floating bytes, Simulated earths, Not even a ghost To pretend with. Alone, The last alien, The last Bruce, The last man Daring to be loved... ...trying.... - Draconis - Fire and brimstone, Anger and hate, Demons of men's souls Feast upon the innocent; Vampiric streamers, That's all they are. Rallying around crowns of thorns And a crucifixion. Feeding from the innocent Hunting that which it Fears the most, What it can't stand, Renegade, rogue, alien Four thousand throats Can be cut in one night By a running man. Water fire, Paradox unparalleled Versus zombie nations. I will fight To the last second. Alone, With fiery breath And ice-cold guile, Ergo Draconis Sum. - Messiah - Wandering souls, Unsure what to do. Wise men Wondering, wandering Follow yonder star! Bright light, horn of plenty Above all others he stands, (so everyone can see him, no other reason) He is Messiah, God of Webs, God of Truths(his own), (In training) The only higher Is the irony. It's all a joke, Taken too literally, Not by me, by his followers. Walk forth, Messiah, Jesus Christ was crucified For preaching without a licence. Have your followers scatter Rose petals at your feet. I shall walk to other path With equals. No longer shall there be Alpha-males. - Crucifix - Dragon on the mount, Whispering sacred words, Perched on marble tables. A white rose in his mouth. Dragon on the plain, Screaming contradictions, Cold winds chill razormasks, A blue rose in his mouth. Dragon on the ground, Bleeding bright scarlet, Smoldering poems that were forgotten. A red rose in his mouth. Dragon on the cross, Waiting for salvation, Wasting flesh and desperate contradictions. A dead rose in his mouth. Burst of light Phoenix birth Flapping wings And burning veins Covenant in stone Hunting shadows of your past Too easy to remember Tongue of flame Demon's roar Draconis is born I will take you Flying, soaring And in my mouth, A flaming rose, dripping with honey. - Reading - Poets write sacred words, Dreams and anger In whispered words, Sometimes yelled. Ignored pleas Amongst smoke-filled courtyards. Crying, whining, pouring hearts, Fire verse that Lights our pens, Desperate to write something profound. Our blood spilt on your ears; Then we all clap And take another puff.