SENSUAL DANCE AT THE HUNTERS' MOON BALL

Look up at the sky. The moon shines bright. The air feels cool, this autumn night.  And beings great and beings small advance  to dance Hunters' Ball. October is a magic space, when death steps forth to take it's place. A top the rustling, dry-leaf floor. That blankets they who breathe no more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~BEHOLD THE FOREST PRIMEVAL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reanate took up our 'young' Jonathon ben Macabi and wrapped  him in her etherial essense, as together they sublimated up through the night time ether and raced off toward the ORIGINAL GARDEN. The  greewswards of Siberia. Chill and vast. Virgin to the woodsman's ax. Untroubled by the human race. A pure and ancient magic place.

Sarah, his soon to be lovely once more, consort rests in capable hands. She and the Moonves cousin slumber under the ministrations of the white coated ones. Lailah walked off with Jean-Michel to explore the Mediterranean depths.

A vampire holiday approaches. Halloween? Eventually, but one comes first, observed since the earliest forever. And honored 'round fires both mortal and not. Come march beneath THE HUNTERS' MOON. Come taste a night that ends too soon. A time when more-than-humans feed perhaps with just a touch of greed.

Look down and see. They all come out, tickling the ground with their feet, as they run. Satyrs and fauns and drinkers of blood, impatient for their darktime fun. Throw off the leaves and moss and skins. Step to the glade. THE DANCE BEGINS!

Sing to the harp. Stomp to the drum. As all Creation starts to hum. Cut into the wrist of one to the right. The left one gets their drink 'fore light. Fly and jump and scratch and bleed. upon the ground to wet the seed of life, which in the Spring will rise, and race to mate with cold March Skies.

And our noble Andalucian vampire took part. His reverent, godly soul gave way to older forces in the hay. Ah, how silvery-bright his well-formed self appeared, as but a bigger elf. The grandmama, Renate played the roll of empress to the glade.

Then Forest-Folk, bigfoot, to you, brought in their cauldrons filled with stew. What's in it? You don't need to know. A bit of lady-flesh or doe. While evil people, they dragged forth, to render into vampire's broth. The centaurs with their rhythmic trot, regaled us with a fine gavote. As centaurinas fair and dark sang love songs to the evening lark.

What you call myth, these folk call life. And mankind had a different wife. Back before the books could talk. But now you walk down other roads and stumble 'neath such heavy loads.

Begrudge us not this Autumn Ball. For soon the snow begins to fall. And 'round the fire we all shall sit, enduring all that winter shit.

How happy Florida wraiths must be, to dance beneath palm trees. Do honey bees live forever in such a place? I'd like to know such blessed grace.

Who am I? We've talked before. A Playwright caught me on the page. Yet Robin knows no other cage. Just taste me in the breeze gone by. A savory bit 'fore pigeons die.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

JONATHON'S SOJOURN WITH NIGHT-FOLK IN THE ENCHANTED FOREST PRIMEVAL

Let him have this little revel.......He'll be back...................................

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

But know that the observance of THE HUNTERS' MOON is a very real thing, as old as human memory

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dip into our world anytime --- http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/ ... http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz ...

SCOTOSH BEEDOSH... BEEDOSH BOPOSHT... BOPOSHT SKEEDODHT ----(know what you see... see what's before you....what's before you is true) --------- rare surviving remnant of extreemly early human, or vampire tongue. 

A CONTEMPORARY HUMAN 'MAGIC' CIRCLES THE GLOBE WITH IT'S POWER

please blame me not for dispensing with the niceities of your roman alphabet. I know not which letters merit capitols and which do not.remember, I am but a callow young boy. it is I. it is zebulon. fevers in this holy city confound me. they frighten me. for here is where I died. they stoned me near this very spot. and nearby rest my bones. so if I see the passing story through half closed eyes, hate me not. it is the best this one can do.

the great philadelphia doctor. the one they call franklin, said something in an old vahmpeerigo language. I caught some of the words, for he spoke in an eastern dialect peppered with hebrew, aramaic (essentially a close sister tongue to hebrew) and koine (a simplified greek). Renate stepped right up to the screen. apparently there was some sort of picture transmiting device built into it. the vampire matriarch  and the equally ageless (though by other means) wizard conversed face to face. she turned, motioning for jonathon and lailah to join her. the three 'night folk' listened, as wispy haired doctor franklin explained it all to them. yet I'm sure they knew all along.

then men and women in white coats. like modern day levites (who also wore white) , came forward. they lead the vampires to wheeled beds arranged along the side of the expansive space. each one laid down. the 'almost levites' went to work, attaching them to clear, jelly-like tubes. a series of automatons were rolled in. they used these humming machines to draw blood from our life-eaters.

the injured ones, sarah and the young cousin, reclined on similar resting places. she looked so torn and broken. she babbled like a pathetic fool. her lidless eyes pleading for help. I could not see her legs, or what was left of them, since a white shroud covered that part of her body. the other one, the young cousin, just laid there. his benefactor, the great and powerful man of stories, the master of the magic, talking lantern, the great Moonves stared down from the screen. doctor franklin whispered something and a beautiful woman, quite like a princess of old cathay, came up to lead hgim away.  then the huge rectangle went dark, becoming nothing more than a black mirror reflecting the manic scene before us.

it was decided to siphon tiny droplets of the miraculous elixir into the young cousin in order to preserve his humanity. but sarah was given more. she received full measure. and her skin began to glow. the raw, ragged edges of  her lips and eyelids slowly cooled. and those stationed right by her cot saw new, thin membranes of skin advance across her visual orbs. a female levite peeked beneath the shroud, motioning for other functionaries to move forward. I hovered among them. I saw what they saw. there, sprouting from the still weeping stumps of her once beautiful legs were narrow white stalks. they slowly curled as they advanced from her flesh. and those in attendance smiled. the vampirina, sarah, would recover. her body would be whole once again.

a man came in. he went over to where the lady renate reclined and leaned forward breathing quiet phrases into her ear. she sat up. he disconnected all the strange tools of alchemy. others did the same to jonathon and lailah. moments later they were ushered into a small quiet chamber furnished with fine upholstery in the contemporary manner. aroma candles gave off an autumn-like glow. soft music (chamber music, I think it is called) drifted into the room from discreet, little appurtures. someone combed and brushed renate's lustrous, black hair. jonathon changed into fresh, cool clothes (vampires care little for modesty), though he turned away from lailah, since the weight of her former humanity still pressed down upon her. an old woman, perhaps someone she'd known before, sat down to comfort her.

the three life-drinkers looked at each other. would it work? would the dream come true? could they help bring peace? could they contribute toward the completion of creation? ..... 'Tikkun Olam'......complete the universe......ah yes.......I remember the term...............yet word was spreading.....people were talking about the boys....the young ones....the israeli and the ishmaeli.....some said they had the gift....some said they could heal .....and some had been healed.......

now the holy land holds many tales. some you have heard and some you have not.......this one is far from over.....................BELIEVE


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please go back and wander through earlier passages. There you will find what you need to know.
And go to our venerable blog list. Review the links. I'm sure you'll find something special there at the bottom of our 10/3 post.

THANK YOU     http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/   http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz/

Please comment. Your own link will be seen as well

As  to our policy of highlighting unique and different sites, here's one we know you'll want to explore -- http://elitetitles.co.uk/  yes, for far less than the price of a week at Claridge's you too can be a lord or lady. Tiarras, riding crops and opera gloves extra.

Where ELSE could YOU see VAMPIRES doctors AND major TELEVISION network HEADS working TOGETHER?.....openly, I mean.....

GOT TO STEER YOU TOWARDS A GREAT SITE BEFORE WE GET STARTED. JUST STUMBLED ON IT ACCIDENTALLY...FOR REAL....best entertainment industry news and gossip... Look for http://www.lalahhathaway.com/  it's the 411 for the week or the pink room or sommething like that, but search for it. You'll quickly become addicted. Speaking of addictions.....back to our pixilated creatures.

The guys Moonves sent out finally broke through the brick and stone wall, freeing the recently mutilated vampirina and the network head's young cousin. Both creatures were pulled from the tiny niche, laid on stretchers and spirited away in a large, unmarked, dark as midnight SUV... Real 'Men In Black' stuff. But as they raced through the Jerusalem Hills, another vehicle pulled up right behind them. Renate, Jonathon and the young, nubile 'slightly-more-than-elf' vampirina, Lailah were crowded into the backseat of a 2006 Volvo S60.  Jonathon wanted to ride up front, but the driver (just some dude from Resurrected John Lennon's seventyfirst birthday party... I think he was an old studio musician) had the front seat all crapped up with take out trash from Sbarro Pizza, so they were forced to squeeze in back. Why didn't they just sublimate? Well, they couldn't. You know how vampires can imbibe alcohol, right? They were coming from a party filled with 60's era rockers. So what do you think they were doing there? Drugs don't do anything to them. All they had was the 'Jack.' And Jonathon couldn't wait. Sarah was in trouble (she's the recently mulitated vampirina in the SUV). True, he cannot read her every thought. But certain things just break through. So he grabbed his vampiric 'grandmother' (Renate....She's a Cher look-alike) and their newborn charge, Lailah (think fifteen year old Natalie Portman) and bolted outta there. Yoko was a bit miffed. She likes exotic guests. but when Yusef Islam (the artist formerly known as Cat Stevens) asked her to join him in a medley from Tea For The Tillerman, she was fine, in spirit, if not in voice.

They two vehicle motorcade, accompanied by  armored Humvees chock filled with I.D.F. personnel sped through the desert til they came to a narrow, unmarked turn off. They gunned down the engines and quietly made their way along a private drive, coming to a stop before a flat, modern structure, quite small on the surface, but much more commodious underground. A squadron of ninja-looking functionaries raced out to assist them. The injured vampirina and the Moonves cousin were immediately placed in a sterile, subterranean laboratory. Each attached to banks of cutting edge equipment. The other three enchanted personages unassumingly filed in, finnding places behind the scientific task force. Lailah whispered - My stomach hurts.......Renate shushed her, biting into her own forefinger and giving the newborn a drop or two of her forty thousand year old, restorative blood. It seemed to do the trick. The young one softly burped and was quiet. Jonathon just stood there looking worried and muttering old Sephardic Orthodox prayers.

About two heartbeats later, a huge, flat panel video apparatus crackled and came to life. The white coat brigade went silent. All eyes turned toward the screen. Jonathon gasped, as an immense, wispy haired image of Doctor Franklin ( the quite human, but artificially preserved, 300 plus year old, Founding Father and master of arcane sciences) projected into the room.

Good, good, good - said the old reprobate, - I'm glad to see we have everything we need, especially a significant supply of 'night folk' blood.

Then he focused in on our Andalucian vampirino..... Well, my boy, I assume you're here to help?

Jonathon nodded........ And the venerable matriarch too? - he said.

Renate said something in ancient Vahmpeerigo and the aged, worldly gentleman immediately picked it up...... Then he sniffed, hummed a little tune and proceeded to spin around on his little electric scooter.

Go! Go! Go! - the Doctor said. We don't have time. Get to it! Get to it! Get to it!........

And over his shoulder loomed the figure of the all powerful network president. Moonves leaned in, scowled at those assembled and growled - Don't... lose... my... cousin!

Everyone in the secret desert installation silently nodded, even the vampires. For no one wanted to cross this man.......

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

join in our pixilated conversation at http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz/ and don't forget to check out our link list after the 10/3 post. ADIOS AMIGOS!!!.....and please excuse my accidental double consonants...it's a nervous twitch, OK!?!

I DON'T KNOW HOW, BUT LES MOONVES JUST GOT MIXED UP IN ALL THIS. WHO KNOWS? MAYBE HE LIKED HIS CAMEO ON ENTOURAGE?

That Young North American Kid, you may remember, had cousins in California. One of 'em is none other than Mister Les Moonves, the uber president of CBS Television Network. He was expecting a New Year's skipe from his little cuz and got kind of worried when he didn't get it. So he called out the under contract, corporate necromancers and had 'em look into things. Well, fortyfive minutes later, after reading the entrails of three, not so enthusiastic, less than willing Chiweenies and making a hell of a mess on his genuine, Brazilian Cherry floors, they come up with something. He says - What? And they tell him all about the stuff going on high in the hills, outside the Old City of Jerusalem.  This does not come as a great shock,  since one of his fiances, back in the day, turned out to be a vampire. That's not why they did not get married. There were other reasons. You're gonna have to Google them, if you wanna know. Cause I don't wanna get involved in that shit. Yes, I am yet another disembodied spirit-narrator, but them Hollywood hot shots got people everywhere. And I do NOT wanna be demoted to a bus station toilet ghost again, OK!?!?

So certain network functionaries get sent over to Tel Aviv on the next 'wings of eagles.' That's what they call 'em sometimes. They can get real biblical. Who knows? Maybe five hundred years from now, this gonna be a new book in the Bible? HEY, MA! IT'S ME! LOOK, I"M HERE! I'M HERE!! And after a thirteen hour flight on some dumb eagle that only got little bags a peanuts and microwaved kosher hotdogs, they swoop down onto the tarmac and fan out to find the naive threatened relative.

When the evil jinn population in the area hears about Moonves' connection to all this, they start to panic. I mean, they know what L.A. media people can do. They seen I Dream of Jeannie. And none of 'em is eager to  play''bitch' to some sweaty, mumbling ass-tro-nut livin' in an old, gypsy-lookin' chianti bottle, some place in South Florida. Palm Beach, or South Beach, or a nice place with an ocean view maybe. But what are the chances of that happening? So they direct three or four human familiars back to the house to do a bit of clean up work. Mesmerized human familiars are the best. Don't have to buy 'em no latex gloves or nothing. Just feed 'em a few juiced up felafel balls and point 'em in the right direstion.

Sarah heard 'em scratchin' away at the stone wall. She tries to holler out to them but her voice is still all dry and raspy. The Young, North American, Moonves Cousin can't do much either, 'cause he so weak from losin' blood and all. Nobody else in there  with 'em 'cept for six, well groomed, shiny cock roaches and they wasn't payin' too much attention, 'cause they busy lapin' up all the left over pee-pee on the floor.

Seein' as this is gonna take a while....You know we write everything in real time? So might as well go look through some of the episodes you may have missed. Or better yet...leave a comment.....Everybody gets to play Cap'n Jack on this Jolly Roger.....If you got any ideas, spit 'em out. ..... And leave a link, 'cause we are not stingy when it comes to publicity......Oh, yeah....one more thing.... If anybody out there in laptop land knows how to turn on  the spell checker, keep it to yourself and mind you own beeswax. We like things just the way they are.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR-----------

Take a moment and browse through the worthwhile links (other people's links) we have posted at the bottom of our 10/3 episode..... Blogs, webs, iPhone numbers and lots more for your edification and enjoyment.....Thank you and as always, feel free to join the pixilated discourse at http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz....... Ya'll come back now....Hear?....... Brought to you by the good folks at http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/

THE TORTURED SOULS OF WONDERLAND SEEK SOLACE IN A STRANGE EMBRACE

The evil jinns wanted to prolong the game. True, the tortured vampirina would not die. Still, they did not want her to retreat into insanity. So they managed to get down on the floor (remember, they were projecting the bodies of desiccated, crumbling corpses), where they bit and scratched the rats till they bled and ran away. Then each one grabbed an arm and they dragged her through the villa to the cellar stairs. One of them. I think it was the female, opened the thick, old cedar door. Still smelled fresh it did, after two hundred years. Well, you know those Ottomans only had the best. The other one pushed her moaning form to the brink mumbled a quick incantation and errupted into dry, wheezing laughter as she tumbled down the worn, stone steps. He could have just pushed her, but you know what a showy lot those jinns are.

Broke a few bones on the way down she did. Would they heal? I mean fast, like a vampire. Guess that depends on her diet. Too bad she's a 'noble'. Too bad she eats only once a month....Too bad. The two exotic demons streaked down the gray stone stairwell like characters in a Warner Bros. cartoon. One of 'em did a bit of fancy hand gestures . You know, like Endora used to do? And the rough stones used to seal in the young North American went poof and evaporated, just like that. So they rolled her ripped and oozing body into the niche and pressed her rat-chewed face against the Young Man's still living neck.The jinn-demons scrambled out, did a stylized fandango, peed on the floor (mostly dust) and brought back each and every evaporated brick till the niche was sealed once more. Then they put their shredded ears up to the wall and listened. .......Nothing happened. They snapped their cadaverous fingers (more like chopsticks clattering), freeing the Young North American from his solitary drab universe, sending his soul boucing right back into his body.........He groaned.........They giggled........His eyes opened......The demon-jinns, quite adept at remote viewing, saw it all. So they shook hands and scampered up out of the shadows, running out into the balmy evening to torment others. Needless to say, the desiccated, corpse-like bodies were quickly discarded.

The Young Noorth American woke up. He felt the clammy, incoherent more-than-human form pressed up against him. He touched the sticky fluid round her wounds. Sarah babbled . She brought her hands up to her ruined face and cried. She moaned and whispered - Help me. Please help me. He heard her, but his humman eyes saw nothing in the close. warm darkness. Though he knew that she was cold. Her breath had no heat in it. He ran his hands along her body in an attempt to 'see' her and retched when he found the raw, wet, bloody stumps......

But life-eaters have strong instincts. She smelled his thick, rich blood. Yes, yes, yes, we've told you many times. It isn't purely the blood that sustains them, but the 'cullin' of unworthy lives........... except when they need  to regenerate. The new flesh (and leg bones too) has to come from somewhere. Remember, this isn't Trueblood or Twilight here. We're talking about reality. So she rolled in close and began to nibble. Oh, his young, North American skin was so soft and supple. And the blood so pure and clean. He tried to pull away. She calmed him, shushing him as best she could with her raw, torn, rat-bitten lips. And so he was compliant. Would she kill him? Who knows? Maybe the jinns changed their minds? Maybe they wanted to see the vampiric creation of an innocent all along? What better way to defile this blessed night of Divine forgiveness and reconcilliation.

Now, please, ask me no more tonight. For I too have petitions to lay before my Lord. Disembodied spirits transgress too. And I do not want to slide down there again. Perhaps I can find Jonathon? He flickers between Heaven and Earth so readily now.... I don't know where to begin........ So GET AWAY.....Leave me alone........This unnamed Disembodied spirit has work to do.............

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

please visit at http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz/ or review our interesting link list a few pages down, after the  10/3 post......... thank you from all of us at http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/   kindly tell others . spread the tale.

THE RAT KING MEETS A VAMPIRE PRINCESS, TO THE DELIGHT OF SOME DESICCATED, JIGGLING CORPSES

By Billy Kravitz http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz and http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/  but I guess you already know that, because you're here. Don't blame me. One of the 'elves' made me do it...

Now jinns are not possessed of a corporal form. True, they can ape the physical appearance of any creature, but left to their own devices, these entities prefer to zap through the firmament with the red hot freedom of a lightning bolt. So when Sarah attempted to sublimate into the old Ottoman villa, she saw no one. Her head silently passed through the thick, plaster, stone and concrete wall. Then her shoulders. Next the breasts (that always makes her wince, since you can imagine the pain a sudden solidification would cause). Arms are easy. They're relatively thin. The ribs and spine cause a bit of discomfort. She could feel every tiny stone and particle in the wall. But she was used to that. Even the pelvic part wasn't that bad and a misstep here has been known to drive vampires mad.

But something went wrong with the legs. Some mommentary blip in the ether distracted her and she hiccuped. Not a big thing in and of itself.....Except when evil jinns are watching. Of course you understand that magic is mostly illusion. I speak not of Kreskins and Copperfields, but of a more  complete experience. Would you like an example? Then ponder your own existence. Look in a mirror. Study your form. Dance about a bit. Stick out your tongue. You know what modern day necromancers (called physicists) say about that? They say is is just an elaborate projection. They say we (and everything else) inhabit a two  dimensional membrane stretched over forever. And Whatever Power it is that deems to give us animation, quickens us into a three dimensional form. All without the encumbering necessity of any uncomfortable, cardboard glasses. Imagine that.

So the evil jinns pulsed out of their usual plain, assuming the form of six thousand spiders.. somewhat.large, stiff-haired, repulsive arthropods. They scurried out of the darkness, scratching their tiny, two-clawed feet over every part of our house breaking vampirina.... into her hair.....tickling her ears.......molesting her lips........ biting her nipples..... and driving her mad.

The concentration required when sublimating was lost. The upper part oof her body, to a point approximately three inches below her hips, tumbled down onto the smooth, tiled floor. But her legs took a different route, solidifying  on the other side of this stout barrier. As soon as that happened, the creepy-crawlers vanished. And a crippled young Sarah (still on the bright side of thirty after all) writhed screaming in crushing pain, as the pink, watery drool that passes for vampire blood seeped out of her stumps. The two evil jinns convulsed with stratchy laughter from their seats on a nearby, mohair divan. It doesn't take long for them to reconstitute. A pair of skeletal, withered, desiccated corpse puppets, jibber-jabbering away in the orange glow from a small, ceramic hearth, and pointing fleshless digits at the  mutilated lady-thing screaming at their feet. While out beyond the wall, carrion dogs (often in cahoots with such beings), bit into the more-than-human legs and ran off.

You may not know it, but vampires can regenerate. Purloined body parts grow back. It takes time, maybe a few nights, or a few weeks. But it happens, provided the surviving  bits and pieces fall into sympathetic hands. And in this case...the victim...was not so blessed..........

The skinniest corpse thingie hopped down. Part of a dry, brittle foot snapped off, but so what. For it's all just illusion. And a quick, sleek rat streaked out to clean up the mess. Look, his cousins were also eager to join the feast. At first they raced to the jinns. A bite here. A nip there. But the tricky demons just cackled as they threw them off.  One (for some reason, I think it was the male) spat out some words in an unknown language, sending the inflated, oily mousykins running off to taste their true main course.

Could she fight them off? Did she have that vampiric ability? Who knows? But she panicked...and laid there crying, as her eyelids and earlobes proceeded to disappear.............

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Brrrrrrr! The Nutcracker was never like this............Oh, before you  go, scroll down to the bottom of our 10/3 post for a new addition  to our useful assortment of (other people's) links.
  

CANTICLE OF DOOM...A NIGHT SONG IN THE VAMPIRE WONDERLAND

Pain comes in various forms. It can be crushing, like being scraped across the solid earth by a two hundred foot Tsumani. It can be searing, such as the ten thousand red-hot teeth of a blast furnace. At times it can be subtle, a slowly buildinng pressure brought on by too much salt, or a tube shoved down the throat. That was a favorite during the Inquisition. Strip the martyr bare. Chain him to a platform. Feed him 'the snake.' Make him swallow. One more time...One more time... Get the tube down in his gut. Roll over the cask. Hook them up. Release the flow. Swallow...Swallow...Drink it down...Cool water, that's all. And refreshing after three days spent in dark, cold,  crawling filth. Ah, watch the belly rise. Pat the little drum. See the eyes grow wide. Had enough?...Had enough?....No, no. We go not by what you say, for there's so much  yet  to come. See? The cask holds plenty.....And it's all yours........The victim tries to scream. He strains against the chains. Blood flows from his wrists, from his legs. The metal cuts deep. And his wild eyes stare from this world to the next, as the delicate membranes of his stomach begin to tear. Water pours from his urethra. Bile gushes from his mouth, blood stained mucus from his nose. And the absolved of evil demons dance and giggle as they hear it...Shhh...Listen...Quiet.....Listen.....Here it comes! Here it comes! .....Get your head from off his belly!! Do you want to lose an ear!? .....Jump back! Jump back! No, don't turn away! You'll miss it! ...Look at him shake! Look at him quake! Look at him vibrate,like brandy soaked cake!.... Ah, I love my job.....Though you know with me it's not a job.....With me it is a calling. ........ And then we hear the rumble, like an earthquake deep at sea, as the 'party favor' shatters and the blast hits you and me...... Shards of man-meat gild the lanterns. Don't they throw an eerie light? Look how pink his flesh is. Just like piggy. It's that white. Awwwww, to bad the party's over. Did he have to die so soon? Climb back down into the dungeons. And hoist up another goon! .......And so it went......I was there.....A pinada for the 'children,' A play thing for the 'pure.' Just Heretic Number Seven, there to get the 'water cure.'

So I make a song of it. So what? You should hear the arias the burnt ones sing. And the evil jinns in the villa had their own dear brand of pain, more a quiet, endless sojourn meant to render one insane. They could do this with their powers. They could whisper in his ear, till the young man from the New World was immersed in endless fear.

Now other realms are out there, some quite nice and some quite not. And the one in which they sealed him was the meanest of the lot. The ground went on forever, just a smooth, gun-metal plain, with a pearl gray sky above it quite incapable of rain.  His footspets tread on iron, not too hot, but just enough. And the air that filled the ether never moved . There was no sound, save his moist and wheezing breathing , as he laid his body down on a hard  as Hades matress for a night that never came. While his twirling, merry captors were quite grateful for the game.

You see, the spirit and the body move in very different worlds. His soul screamed, deep in torment, while his flesh lay on a cot, bricked in deep behind the coal bin in this little nook they got. Would it die? Well, yes, I think so. For the oxygen grows thin, in the black as doom stone hidey-hole they put this 'boychick' in. But the soul goes on forever in a world that never dies. As the young man from the New World wanders neath unchanging skies.

But then she found it. Her feet just lead her to the spot. She could smell the hopeless hiker. She could feel the endless rot. Sarah recognised the cage. She too was once so tortured, during Papa's wild rage.

She meant to sublimate inside the place to aid the poor sweet soul. but the evil jinns both felt her and they rushed to thwart her goal.

Do you know what happens to vampires unable to sublimate through solid matter quickly enough? What must it be like to solidify in stone? Ask the vampires of Tibet sealed within the Earth's own bone. For the mountains there hold plenty, buried downwards from the moon. Would our own dear, Lady Sarah share that same fate all too soon?...........

My name? That's not important. But my poetry hides pain. Just come back when next the stars shine and I'll spin the tale again...... Clap, clap, clap...Step, step, step....how I love to dance.....

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Remember, visit our 10/3 post. Just scroll down a bit. It's not far. You'll find it. There at the bottom lies our convenient easy, link list where you can click on and off an assortment of wild and wonderful posts. some about vampires, others based on quite surprising things. give it a try. And please tell your friends about us here at http://bit.ly/gw7fAE/................. or tweet with us at http://Twitter.com/@wilkravitz/