Sympathy for Nyarlathotep

 

Image copyright Yuuki Morita

Click to enlarge

forever liminal

the pinnacle of greatness

he is not a person

although he could appear to be one

composed of many layers

there is no line he wouldn't cross

he will stop at nothing

to feed his needs

consider his tendency

to inspire madness 

unknown is the oracle

who can stomach his true appearance

he is that most powerful spirit

guarding the stairs to the stars

those believing themselves worthy to join his tribe

always tumble to their doom

Nyarlathotep's nature

is ultimately not his fault

he was spawned by primordial chaos

he plays by ever-changing rules

~cie~

Write a "spirit of the stairs" poem.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-april-pad-challenge-countdown-t-minus-3

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/03/29/wordle-234/

Oracle

Liminal-

relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.

2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

Stop

Tumble

Tribe

Greatness

Person

Layers

Line

Consider

Tendency

Stomach

Duly Noted

Nyarlathotep is the creation of H.P. Lovecraft, initially appearing in his 1920 story of the same name. He is my favorite of the Outer Gods because of his malleable nature. I feel that the chosen image represents Nyarlathotep perfectly. He is both beautiful and terrible and those foolish enough to attempt to command him will wind up descending into madness.

My vision of Nyarlathotep has developed over many years of admiring and working with the character. His function is to grant wishes. The epithet "be careful what you wish for because you may get it" applies in spades where Nyarlathotep is concerned. 

Nyarlathotep absolutely enjoys causing madness to those who deserve it. He generally does not have to work very hard to achieve this end. He gives his victims the rope and they hang themselves. My version of Nyarlathotep, however, can also be just and generous. He loves granting wishes for those who are genuine and sincere in their intent.

There is a gray area for supplicants who summon Nyarlathotep out of desperation rather than lust for power, money, or other obsession. There will always be a price, but it is never one's soul or sanity. Nyarlathotep will probably come to collect at an inconvenient time because that is what tricksters do. 

Nyarlathotep has many offspring. My version of Nyarlathotep has a daughter named Yadira to whom he is deeply devoted. This snarky sorceress is the result of Nyarlathotep's marriage to his one true love, Queen Nathicana of Zaïs, a character initially appearing in Lovecraft's 1927 poem Nathicana.

The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Creative Commons License

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The Ugly Duckling

 

Free use image from Pixabay

The ugly duckling

Is actually darling

But he wouldn’t know it, you know

Exposed to the ignorance

Of those with small, angry souls

Cruelty the cohesive adhesive between them

They hoped their hateful words

Would make him moan in anguished defeat

Feeding their sadistic need

To torture one different from themselves

Many years have gone by

Since those bad old golden rule days

A humble man clad in a t-shirt and jeans

Radiates an understated, no-frills grace

He speaks in an almost sleepy way

As he recalls those bygone days

In the spring of his life

His eyes shimmer with sterling silver tears

As he praises his late brother

For creating an empire

Ensuring that they would never again go hungry

He does not notice the honeysuckle

Climbing the trellis

As the young woman asks him

If he isn’t downplaying his contributions to the world

He doesn’t take her meaning

For when he looks in the mirror

He sees an ugly little man

He does not realize that the ugly duckling is beautiful

For he was so often told that he was not

The hateful word-arrows slung by fools

Create a not so fun funhouse filled with mirrors

That distort what their victims see

When they see their own reflection

Let us not utter words

That leave scars on others’ souls

Everyone deserves

To know the goodness in themselves

Lives are devastated

By ignorance and cruelty

And unrealistic standards of beauty

Created by advertisers

To sell magazine copy

And products that nobody needs

Love,

Cie

The Back Story

I was 16 years old when I saw the movie Let There Be Rock in 1980. It was no surprise to me when I learned that the Young brothers had been bullied by their classmates. When asked to describe himself, Angus referred to himself as “that ugly little man.” Malcolm was painfully shy and had substance abuse issues.

In a recent interview, Angus praised Malcolm, who died in 2017. The interviewer noted that Angus seemed to be downplaying his own contributions. His facial expression and words indicated that he didn’t view his contributions as particularly important.

Angus Young achieved success and renown, but the cruel words he heard remain with him.

 369 Words

Prompts Used

April PAD Challenge 2021

Countdown Prompt Day 10:

Write a “let’s (blank)” poem

My response is basically let’s not be dicks.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-april-pad-challenge-countdown-t-minus-10

Countdown Prompt Day 9:

Write a cause and effect poem

The effect of being the victim of repeated bullying is a lifetime of self-doubt.

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-april-pad-challenge-countdown-t-minus-9

 

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Tale Weaver: The Ugly Duckling

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/03/18/tale-weaver-319-the-ugly-duckling-18th-march/

Wordle

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/03/22/wordle-230/

 

Poets and Storytellers United

Writers Pantry

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/03/writers-pantry-62-of-spring-and-poetry.html

 

Support the Strangeness

If you enjoy my writing, come groove with me on Patreon. Subscriptions start at just a buck a month. Support weird, wild, independent (and, let’s face it, a bit fucked up) creativity.

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And/or

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Check out my poetry collections here:

https://bit.ly/getmorepoetry

You can also join me on Odysee (formerly LBRY)

http://bit.ly/OdyseeWithMe

 

 The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)

Creative Commons License

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

This work is the intellectual property of Naughty Netherworld Press/Poetry of the Netherworld.

Reblogging is acceptable on platforms that allow it. LBRY’s reblog function is called repost, which makes things confusing since reposting is considered a no-no on most platforms. It’s fine to share the post using the repost function on LBRY. It is not okay to copy-paste the material into a new post.

Sharing a link to the post is acceptable.

Quoting portions of the post for educational or review purposes is acceptable if proper credit is given.

F.E.A.R.

I’m tired of adulting, it’s not working out for me

I hate this ugly alt-right, Brexiteer reality

I’ve developed coulrophobia with all the clowns around

Everyone’s a chatbot since the humans all left town

I’ll never climb a glass cliff, and I’ll never know how hygge feels

In a post-truth, reactionary world, only hate is real

They hate the Latinx, Middle Easterners, Asians and Blacks

Once you’re woke to the truth, you can never look back

I’ve never found hope to be in great supply

But these days it takes all I have to stop myself

From giving in to my urge to abide
By the old acronym

Fuck

Everything

And

Run

Cie

Far from hopeful for the future

There are more than 70 words in my poem

Kill the link if it, or the swearing, is a problem

Adulting - The practice of behaving in a way characteristic of a responsible adult, especially the accomplishment of mundane but necessary tasks
Alt-right - An ideological grouping associated with extreme conservative or reactionary viewpoints, characterized by a rejection of mainstream politics and by the use of online media to disseminate deliberately controversial content
Brexiteer - A person who is in favour of the UK withdrawing from the European Union
Chatbot - A computer program designed to simulate conversation with human users, especially over the internet
Coulrophobia - Extreme or irrational fear of clowns
Glass cliff - Used with reference to a situation in which a woman or member of a minority group ascends to a leadership position in challenging circumstances where the risk of failure is high
Hygge - A quality of cosiness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being, regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture
Latinx - A person of Latin American origin or descent, used as a gender-neutral or non-binary alternative to Latino or Latina
Post-truth: an adjective relating to circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than emotional appeals.
Woke - Originally in African-American usage meaning alert to injustice in society, especially racism

A Bit of Magic

Heavenly light

Delicate and ethereal

A subtle vapor

Airy fairy

~Faycin~

Silent Spell

Silent Spell

If my words could carry across the miles

Would my aim be good enough

To float across the land dried by the scorch of the sun

To maybe reach into your mind

To softly caress your spirit

To ring a gentle chime

And give you a sign

That the spell you didn't know you cast

Worked full well on my foolish heart

Which is now filled with emotions that others deride as trite

For you I would gladly walk into the night

And disappear from this soulless, heartless world forever

~Cie~

Much Ado About A Whole Lot of No-One

 



Much Ado About A Whole Lot of No-One

 

I shall become an illeist

As I write this bit of fizzle

It may seem a thing of great conceit

When one drones on about oneself like drizzle

 

The Cheese is not an android

She often makes herself a fool

She's at the intersection between too closed and too open

Her defensive posture leads to ridicule

 

The Cheese is kind of ghetto

She has skin as pale as zinc

Some say a body like a draftsack

Most men from her would shrink

 

In her younger days, she liked to make mischief

But she had a heart of gold

Now her heart is hard as brick

Her once loving spirit is cold

 

It sometimes seems she might strangle

In the tangled web her psyche weaves

It might seem she doesn't know how to give love

In truth, she doesn't know how to receive

 

So now you know a little bit about Cheesy

And this might not seem to be very nice

But there might be a lesson for you to heed

In knowing folk with unlucky rolls on life's dice

 

Cie AKA Cheesy

 

 

 

Hidden Treasure

Copyright: / 123RF Stock Photo

Hidden Treasure

A Love Story

Mine is a journey taken mostly alone

Awaiting forever for the arrival of one who might understand

I hear the clock chime in the supposed house of the holy

As I arise for the evening to ingest my lonely meal before heading off to work

I hear people laughing outside, and I sigh sadly

Wondering what it might be to have someone to laugh with me

I make my way into the night, hearing my heart beat

Thinking it might fall silent at any moment, as heavily as my loneliness weighs upon it

All at once I see something on the corner

A creature pale and plain, with a scar upon his face

Looking like a forlorn stray cat at once afraid of and desiring companionship

A ghost in the light of the lamp, made nearly invisible by the snow

Everyone else passes him by, seeing nothing

But I acknowledge his presence, and a smile graces his forlorn face

Like me, he has been alone in the world for what seems like countless years

I invite him to accompany me, and together we walk on

Nobody else can see my one true friend

A simple spirit pale and plain, overlooked by the majority of passerby

But beautiful to me, scarred face and all

Bringing color to my once gray world, and love to my once lonely heart

Sometimes the things ignored by the majority

Because they are not overtly eye-catching

Are in fact the most beautiful and fetching

Because they are the realest things of all

~Cie~



More and Less than Human

 

 

More and Less than Human

 

My eyes have seen you

Perform before ten times a thousand and more

Being onstage got you high

But it also made you panic

 

To perform was always your choice

It was the way that you expressed yourself

Because sometimes it was hard for you to talk

Especially when you needed help

 

You were always willing to help others

But when it came to your own needs, you hit a snag

Perhaps you thought you could sweat it out if you worked hard enough

You thought you could burn your troubles out of your body

 

People like you are more and less than human

In the eyes of your audience

The crowd sees you as both invincible and fatally flawed

You can't win in the arena of public opinion

 

My eyes have seen you

As more lofty than the archangels

As broken as a shattered China cup

As wonderfully and exquisitely anomalous

 

I wish my eyes did not have to see you lose yourself

 

~Cie~

 

 

 

 

 

Bitch Please

Bitch Please

 

Anonymous scum

You think your threats of chantage

Will cause me to fade into the brume

For fear that some privileged information will be exposed

 

You think to desecrate my temples

Wherein the discreet throb of my heart

Creates misshapen dreams of desire

 

Your threats to embarrass me

Only skim the surface

Of the endless depths of what I feel

 

The thoughts which I reveal

Are only an emblem

Of the greater truth embedded in my soul

 

One day my heart will open like an envelope

And I will spill all my disgraceful secrets

Until that time, the clock ticks on aloof

 

What reprehensible evidence are you offering up anyway

Which I haven't already revealed myself

If not outright

Then couched in simile and metaphor

 

Do your worst

 

~Cie~

 

Prompt Used:

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

 

Forever Your Little Loser

Forever Your Little Loser

They say that I'm a lunatic

They say I'm nothing but a loser

Because I say I want to take a spacecraft

And go spinning past all the planets

Straight up to the Heavens

Where the angels sing in your dreams

My one and only endeavor

Is to be with you forever

I want to spread my heart before you

And pray that you tread lightly

I want to tangle my fingers in your soft, dark hair

I want my love to heal you

Has my longing driven me insane?

If loving you makes me a loser

If wishing I could make things better

Makes me a lunatic

Spinning ever closer to insanity

Then that's just what I am

Forever your little loser

Because I won't get you off my mind

~Cie~

Image Source

Spectrum

Image Source

 

 

Spectrum

 

In poetry I am able

To cryptically reveal the splendor

That hides beneath my secular skin

 

At first gaze I seem a plain person

With no higher ambition

Than to harvest what meager fruits I can

 

When I'm old and my back is bent

From toiling at physically difficult jobs

And the death rattle takes my last breath

 

When what little family I have is gathering

And the breeze builds and blows away

The scattered ashes of my body

 

These words will remain

For those who like puzzles

To try and decipher

 

The truth about a plain person

Who was more than she appeared to be

 

~Cie~

 

 



The Flower of my Love

The Flower of my Love

Your halo sits crooked, my bijou

And although I have promised to keep my effable feelings to a minimum

If you listen you can hear the truth in the susurrus

Whispering from deep within the chasm of my heart

I fall in a helical pattern

I cared too much about the copper

In the two cents thrown at me by those

Who do not understand how deep the root of my devotion goes

For some the flower of their love is a rose

Pretty and smelling like summer

The flower of my love is a black orchid

I want you to etch your name upon my heart

I don't care how much it hurts

~Cie~

Prompt:

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

The Gap

Filipino street children

 

The Gap

 

What for you amounts to a few miserable moments

Driving past forgotten and neglected children on the streets

Amounts to their everyday life

 

While you attend the recital and watch your healthy daughter turn pirouettes

Another parent struggles to remain resolute

To somehow put food on the table

 

Spills and stains are quickly washed from your clothing

Or you make the decision to replace the item

When the stain has set in too deeply

 

The poor person continues wearing the stained item

You laugh at them

Calling them a disgusting slob

 

On a cloudy day, you drive your beautiful, warm car through the rain

The tires splash the forgotten and neglected children

Who flutter past your window as you roll home

 

~Cie~

 

Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds

Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds

I

In an industry that praises a man for being a blackguard

You refused to behave like a swine

You were tolerant, but not amoral

You chose to cleave to what you deemed important

Refusing to be some sort of cog in the machine

Your voice was an understated baritone

Your style in no way operatic

You preferred to let your axe do the talking

Coming up from a humble background

You led the poor in a quiet revolt

By teaching us to be unashamed of who we are

If anyone had ever referred to you

As a knight riding in on a white horse

You would have laughed

But you were a hero to many of us

We saw you as strong in spite of your diminutive stature

Which is why we were shocked when it was revealed just how fragile you are

There was no antecedent to predict

How swiftly and fearfully you would be felled

II

When I found out the reason

Why the world would never again hear your restless thoughts poured out in music

It made me shiver and sway

My soul was left a jittering mess

Tumbling into a sick, hellish abyss

My heart landed in the basement

And there is no consolation

Nor any chance for denial

My eyes are swollen from crying

Everybody knows that something's wrong

I never was any good at hiding behind a mask

This is the worst, the absolute worst

Because not only are there no expectations for recovery

There's nothing left of what you were in your head

Although the curtain's not yet drawn on vital functions

The obituary for your soul's been read

I thought it might be whiskey that would take you in the end

She was the one mistress you had trouble resisting

Because she temporarily quieted the voices of self-doubt

That screamed behind your placid demeanor

Quiet people have the loudest minds

I loved yours

Love it still

Love it always

Cie and Mo

for

Malcolm

Writing Prompts:

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

The Reverie

Cross-Posted to:
Dream About Me Sweet Brother
(Warning: Blog contains explicit, unapologetic slash/erotic gay fiction)
KHEL 666
Poetry of the Netherworld
Rattling Bones Undead Musician Magazine

Notes:

Morella La Muerte (Mo) is the primary writer on the first poem, The Real Cie is the primary writer on the second.

Mo wanted to use the words from both Wordles but became overwhelmed. She emailed Cie asking for advice. We've been collaborating since five this morning! Three point five hours in, we've finally got it cooked to delicious imperfection.

Delicious imperfection could also describe the subject of the poem, although that sounds kind of lecherous. We actually are referring to his personality. He was flawed, but extremely well-intentioned. He created wonderful things without knowing just how wonderful they were. He was also extremely hard on himself. He never measured up to his own exacting standards.

I doubt we'll ever stop writing about this situation. We certainly will never stop thinking that it's a steaming pile of crap on the part of the Universe. We'd have been sad to have the man killed off, but to destroy his mind on top of it, that's fucking insult to injury. His was a beautiful mind. The world has been robbed of a real treasure.

Ignoring the fact that we have to get a spotlight over here because Angus is taking off his clothes again, could we just for a moment pause and ponder the absolutely solid foundation of this very tasty blues-rock number?

Angus spoke about his admiration for Malcolm's style in a January 2014 article from Guitar World:

"Sometimes I look at Malcolm while he's playing, and I'm completely awestruck by the sheer power of it. He's doing something much more unique than what I do-with that raw, natural sound of his. People like Malcolm, Steve Cropper, Chuck Berry and Keith Richards-they're all doing something better than the rest of us. I can't deny that Eric Clapton's and Eddie Van Halen's lead stuff has influenced a stack of people, but for me it's the rhythm thing that's way more impressive and important to a band.

Malcolm is a big inspiration to me; he keeps me on my feet. Even when I'm tired from running around the stage for two hours, I'll look back at what he's doing and it gives me that boot up the backside I sometimes need."

Absolutely.

What a great loss, not only to the world of music, but to the world as a whole.

Photoshop manip by Cie

Original Eye in the Sky image:

Copyright: zadvinskiy / 123RF Stock Photo

Another One for Malcolm

 

Another One for Malcolm

 

If I could give you a gift

To thank you for your thelemic attitudes

It would be the gift of allowing you to remember

Your memories have blown away like leaves in the wind

Left scattered for some gluttonous, soul-eating monster to lick up

This fiend demands to devour all the sweet aspects that shone through your expressive eyes

And made your weathered face as soft in aspect as one still in his brittle youth

It consumes your mind like gooey cake batter left on Mother’s spoon as it clings to her apron

Like a petty thief, the monster Dementia steals in during the night to swipe your soul

Robbing your tribe of your wisdom and your kindness

I would have much more than a tiff with this monster

If I could, I would strike it dead and chop it into pieces

Not so I could get horizontal with you, even though I could drown in your beautiful eyes

But just so you could remember

Who you were

Who those you love are

What is truly important

Just so you could continue to be

You

Cie

Prompt:

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

 

 

 Malcolm Young

61 years old

Victim of early onset, rapid progressing dementia

Cannot remember his lifetime of accomplishments or even the people he loves the most

There is nothing about this that can be considered "right" on any level

The picture was taken when he was still healthy

The expressiveness leaves the eyes when the mind goes as his has

Maybe someday there will be a cure for such horrific conditions