A White Wizard's Demise

With blue thunder
she arrived,
Sacred fire blazed
in her hands,
leaving ashes as
the only remnants.

Her dark magic sizzled
between fingers so delicate
and white as gossamer,
arcs of electricity danced
between jewels and gold
that adorned these beautifully
manicured fingers,
she pointed one
black glossy fingernail
toward my forehead
and everything was washed
in dusky twilight.

When my eyes opened,
it was to nothing but darkness,
the only shape discernible
was that of a woman,
naked in the inky abyss.

Softly she approached,
measured steps from altar to bed,
her satin slippers softly scuffing
the smooth slate paving stones,
I could do nothing,
it felt as though I was anchored,

Her sharp nail ran
from my temple to my chin,
leaving a small trickle of blood
in its wake,
her whisper, like ice, invaded my ears,
her words, like daggers, embedded in my brain,
her lips, like velvet, brushed my cheek,
and I was lost...

Lost to her frost blue eyes,
her summer pink lips,
her diamond white smile,
and her creamy soft skin...

The spell was simple enough,
any man should and would be
struck dumb with the slightest word,
even knowing this,
I folded like a house of cards.

I was now hers,
to do with as she pleased,
was this what I wanted all along?
was she the one in my dreams ever on the horizon?
More questions to only be answered with questions!

This darkness is my antithesis,
it is what I fight against daily,
and now it is comforting,
like my mothers arms
yet rough hewn like the planks of a ship,
it's darker now...menacing...I feel so...
s
  l
    e
      e
        p
          y.


Was it a dream?
Does she exist?


-'Honey wake up, it's almost time for work.  How many times have I told you  to come to bed when you're tired instead of trying to finish another chapter?'

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

Broken glass

Elevation
onto pedestals
mostly made
of marble.

My minds eye
sees that you
are high
like me.

Your wings break
from extinguished fire,
my laughter takes me
infinitely higher.

I was already above
the influence, quit trying
to lasso my ankles
with your anchors.

I live in a glass house,
yet I still throw stoners.

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

Energy (WIP)

It has been latent, hiding inside
Focusing to a point
no barrier can withstand
You can hear the crackle
in the air
at this sound
the world
s t o p s
to listen
It releases
crushes
and penetrates
The feeble foes in our minds
Yet is still
trapped

Writers block
sleepless nights
Fall to the power
that flows through
It bends and twists
reality into something
New that screams
set me free
We scribble
draw
map
and wait
For that something
in our mind
To be created into
something extraordinary
Yet the pen sits still
Unable to escape

Energy
destroy
transfer
From one
to another

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

Subconscious

Through a low trellis I trip
into a dark and dank grotto.
Did you hear that?
Sounded to me like some
kind of footsteps,
misshapen and clawed.

How can he live here?
Jesus it is like I stepped
into Cro-Magnon society,
chicken bones thrown
haphazardly upon the ground,
a muddy pool of some
undisclosed liquid, looking
quite a bit like a wash basin,
and that smell...I'd rather
not know what that smell is.

I heard it again,
maybe it is just roots
cracking the outer crust
of this place.
Why am I here?

The incessant drips
dropping like bullets
into my brain,
why won't it stop
and where are those
footsteps coming from?

I know, I'll hide and ambush
the mischevious minion.
At least then I can put a face
to those footsteps.

In a moment,
I'll see,
you'll see.
Do you think
it can
hear my heart
beating out of
my chest?
Just in case let me
grab this rock for
protection...

What am I saying
I don't even know what the
hell this thing is,
human or otherwise.

Again with that DAMN DRIPPING!!
My mind surges with
annoyance, concentrate,
concentrate, count to ten,
listen for the clickety clack
of this bag of bones bitch
that is following you,
breathe, in, out,
breathe.

There it is again...
much closer and cautious
this time, come on...
little closer,
I can't quite see around the corner...
just a few more seconds.

In my haste I had forgotten that
the roofline of my hiding space
was about four inches smaller
than I am tall.
The blinding pain,
then stars,
then blackness.

Awakened by my own breathing
I realized that my head is supported,
I am covered with blankets,
and it smells lightly of lavender.

Think that's the last time I'll step
into my subconscious.

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

Darkest Days

When the blazing sun
shines no more upon
the plains of dust
and dreary memories

That is when you will
find me wandering,
for I am a traveler
of the darkest kind

I prey on human fear,
torment, and nightmares.
I feed upon emotions,
and I fill my chalice 
with yours.

I know no age,
time does not mar
my visage. 
I am eternal,
haunting you.

In your final hour,
on your darkest day,
I rest in the shadows
devouring your mind.

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved