"0"excerpt "A GLIMPSE OF H.E.L.L.

III.    A Glimpse of H.E.L.L.

…all I had was the bottle.

                                                Bottle tipped and the putrid red liquid engulfed an all inclusive glimpse of hell"o"
 (here except Lord’s Love) ,with tombstones as houses. Engulfing the Red, White and Blue police lights…YES.

                                                                        The Alcoholic/Addict earns his (her) wings with the animation of the law (Sirens). just like every time you hear a bell ring an Angel earns his wings. ______

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Footnote:  “every time you hear a bell ring an Angel earns his wings”- reference is from classic movie “It’s a wonderful life” starring Jimmy Stewart.

Bottle tipped and the putrid red liquid engulfed an all inclusive glimpse of hell (here except Lord’s Love) ,with tombstones as houses. The hands holding the bottle seem to have a mind of their own.

            Everyone waiting…

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                                                Yes –CREATIVITY IS A CHANNEL TO SPIRITUALISM (ONE OF God (DAY)

 and the other, the devil (NIGHT)::                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                “You’re CAST DOWN.” Chris sang as he played his guitar. He was a channel

            Like so many times before calling on a demon from the East who had the name of Shah. As an ultimatum of rebellion this demon perverts the Holy Lands through inciting war (CHAOS).

FOOTNOTE:  1968’s ending:

            A soldier returns home from his six month tour of Vietnam. His wife is anxious for him to see their new born son in his crib. Much to her dismay, the evil that possessed him in the war came out.

            Looking into his new born son’s eyes he saw an image of God he had left behind from seeing countless deaths.

            …and this demon, whose name sounds like shhh, traveled from the father to his son’s eyes.

            “NO I CAN’T LET THIS HAPPEN!” then the father tried to kill his son. Fortunately the Military Police stopped him.

…and the soldier spent the rest of his life in an asylum.

“YOU’RE CAST DOWN!” Spencer annunciated Chris’ guitar rhythm with strokes on his Jackson electric guitar. It gave the booms (the footsteps of this demon are the sounds of WAR: explosions: guns, bombs, and landmines).

                        and I

gave the demon the ground to walk on by the way I played my piano. Sounded like someone getting dragged to hell.  “YOU’RE CAST  DOWN!”..

as I drank from my glass. Burned my throat. Then the cd player in the corner started playing 3 discs at once-I lit my cigarette, pulled hard and exhaled. Let the smoke stream out my mouth, rose to the ceiling and I watched as the smoke formed phantoms.

…and they started telling me that I knew how to free them from hell.

                                                            I looked down the

                                                                 HALLWAY

IV

and wondered again-

What’s Purgatory LIKE?

Is it

            Like waiting in an unemployment line?

Is it

            Like being at the hospital

            Waiting for the doctor?

Is it

            Like waiting for the

            Results of a test to see if you have an incurable disease?

Is it

            Like waiting for judgment “Guilty or Not Guilty?”

            Countless programs on (tell me Vision) have shown long hallways-with many shut doors. The rub is, was, will be, which door to open.

Cutrier Mansion 2009:

                                        …I pray to God to protect me…

            Two columns for an entrance. I walked slowly through the columns w/ an army duffel bag on my back and my acoustic guitar in my hands.

            I unlock the front door and it slowly swings open by itself as if unseen hands were politely welcoming me in. Quickly made my way upstairs. Once upstairs I set up 2 digital voice recorders and 2 cameras. I left my offering to Blanch

Footnote: In Clarksdale Mississippi located in the historical

district of Clark Street

there is a mansion at the end of the street. This mansion was the summer home of relatives of the founding family of Clarksdale (the Clarks).  Specifically the Cutriers (Blanch Cutrier).  Much of the Cutrier’s affliations were the basis of playwright Tennessee Williams characters and settings. Tennessee Williams grandfather lived in Clarksdale. The house is haunted by ghosts. Among them is Blanch herself. Since Cutriers were residence the mansion has been a school for nuns, and is currently a section for Delta State University.

Another ghost that haunts the mansion is one of a preacher who used to do Penance (whip himself) in a small room in the attic.

WC Handy was a famous musician who founded the Blues.

                                                                                                and the other spirits in the den. The den was where they used to have their parties and the legendary WC Handy would be their entertainment. After a couple of hours I began exploring the other rooms. Came around the witching hour (2 am-3 am) when I decided to strum on my guitar as a way to channel the energies through me. In a far bedroom, the room that was furthest left to the onlooker from outside.

I prayed again for God to protect me.

… “you hear that Blanch?”

“God protect you this time.”

I was paralyzed with F.E.A.R. for a few seconds that seemed longer. I compare it to going through a tornado(what happens in five minutes seems like hours). Stumbled out into the hallway with my legs feeling like they were being pulled to prevent me from moving.

            The hallway lit up in a green neon. Was like the moon beamed her fingers through  every crevice where light could trespass the darkness. Shadows merged at the hallway’s end, and slowly crept forward in a threatening manner.

                                                was like

                                                an electrically lit hallway slowly stuttering a black out.

            The darkness engulfed me with the wind screaming at me. Then the weight on my legs stopped. Logically, I deduced that my only escape was to go up the stairs into the attic. up the stairs. I was in the nerve in the vein that traveled to Cutrier’s brain. In the vein of polluted space where time (past, present and future were one

                                    V                                                                                                                     (day of the dead) (what is deathlike?)                                                                             room where Popa was leaving this world and sleeping into other worlds against his will.

                                                Easy when I was drunk…

to get lost in a hospital that had so many halls (open and shut doors, groans and moaning from those having futile resist against death).

                                                A few minutes ago I pulled into Memorial Hospital parking lot with Bob Seger talking to me through the FM “Bring it to your Popa”.

                                                                                                                        Thought it would be appropriate to read to him “Notes Of A Dirty Old Man” by Charles Buskowsky. After reading the story about an Angel getting his wings cut Popa fell asleep.

            The nurses came in at about 6 pm. I wanted him to return to good health. So many times I used my own will power to accomplish goals. Popa was hardly eating.

            Waited till she left the room to impose my will power on to his. With spirits in me (uplifting philosophical buzz) I stood at the foot of his bed and stared at him imagining that I was sending him power within me through my eyes. He let out a cough that was so strenuous that he woke himself. Reminded me of the coughs at the trailer when he would spit into his can. That was so long ago.

                                                            He opened his eyes slowly:

“General Hancock.”

“hh.”

“I’m gonna’ be promoted to sergeant. Won a promotional board. Best out of six other soldiers.    

his eyes went from glazed to RAW DETERMINATION-“EAT POPA!”

                                                                                                            I THOUGHT I HAD CURED HIM. He wrapped his fingers around the cup filled with grape juice. Put the cup to his mouth and then quickly drank it down.

                                                                        Only. –to vomit it up.

            The Dark Red fluid that fell to the Ground resembling tear drops

A Glimpse of H.e.L.L. cont

as it dripped slowly. The ferryman: the figure wore black robe. Couldn’t see a face because his head was down and concealed by the hood-

heard footsteps behind. Yet, it deceived my logics. Was more like Nagging flies buzzing around my ears: …those creeping obsessions that keep us down in h.e.l.l.

“you’re a failure everyone hates you kill yourself there is no god no one loves you you should never have been born you are cursed you will always be alone” –these voices buzzed closer.

I

                                                Looked Down

                                    At My Feet sincerely wanting

                                                      The Loh’Rd

           to show me the way.   

            Blood came in relentless waves on the black sandy shore. The ferryman looked up and his face was still hidden by his hood. The ferryman extended his hand, wanting me to come aboard. The sounds of the voices combined with the flies came closer. I turn around and see countless flies, wasps, and bees. Thousands, millions, and a voice came thunder “We Are Legion We Are Many”…the insects transformed into humans-

                                                                                                            HERE

                                                                                                                  EXCEPT

                                                                                                                        LORD’S

                                                                                                                                LOVE-

                                                                                                                                                HUMANS? Monsters they become the ugliness: monstrosities of sins: phallus’ as painful puss filled tails. Hands twice the size of their bodies, holes the size of potholes in their crotch region. Bleeding sores on their faces. Tongues as long as their arms.

                                    THOU SHALL NOT COVET.

            I TURNED BACK AROUND AND KNEW, KNOW, WILL KNOW TO GET ON THE BOAT. I taste metal from underneath my tongue. I remove the one day at a time coin and place the coin in the ferryman’s hand and get on the ship. Slowly

footnote: One Day at a Time chip is the first one that an addict/alcoholic receives at a 12 step recovery meeting.

                                                                                                                               the boat moves away from the shore and the sin malformed humans kept moving forward. They stepped into the bloody red water and instantly burned.

            The ferryman turns his head and pulls down his hood.

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Inherit The Skull

the skull was on fire in the graveyard the skull was on fire on the t-shirt the skull was on fire on the comic book cover

“GET THAT SHIRT OFF YOU HERECTIC!”

“I’M NO HERECTIC!” the teenager wearing the Ghost Rider t-shirt yelled opposing the Elder.

“YOU ARE A HERECTIC!” the Elder’s face was beet red-yep-this was just one of the countless times that he was possessed by the spirits (alcohol)

“Take off the shirt!” the boy fell from getting pushed head first into the sharp edge of the wall’s corner. He bled from the back of his head.

            Straddled the 85 pound boy and started punching him in the face.

            “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” she pleaded as she tried to pull him off of the boy. The elder got up and pushed her down. Distracted him long enough for the Prodigal Son to run out of the front door.

                                                …walked through the front door and gave the boy a Ghost Rider comic book as a Christmas Gift.

                                                …set fire to the skull mounted to the voodoo cane on the elder’s grave.

                        the flame on the skull lit up the once

Footnote:
“Ghost Rider” is a comic book hero, see Marvel Comics. The character was double crossed selling his soul to the devil. Therefore, he now vows vengeance upon the devil.

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darkened hallow eye sockets that are, were, will be Vortices.