Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Hex Files

This new poem, Hex-Files, is based on a true story – a supernatural encounter. The actual events are hidden behind humor-oriented imagery, but they are in consonance with the deeper meanings of this macabre – and cautionary – tale. It is about the battle between good and evil…and other things.

The creator of Hell paid a visit,

but I don’t know if Ripley will believe it;

just my luck I was home reading

Frederick Forsyth’s The Devil’s Alternative;

he wants my oft-transmigrated soul

and some menthol cigarettes,

but I, only Winston had; red filters,

so said I, divine, but menthols

are poison critters; anyway,

the biggest oil tanker in the world

was hijacked, and the KGB chief

in cold blood was murdered

by fundamentalist Ukrainian Jews,

and a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square;

but the Transfer, unused, jazz group

Manhattan, super-cool, darkly;

Nightingales is not a sleeper

nor a mole in the Palace

but a spy just so; by the way,

the Devil overcame his rheumatism,

unlike in his filibusterous visit

to Ivan Karamazov, who was, frankly,

not to speak impolitely, saner than we;

Hell in suffering from inflation,

gas prices are reaching Heaven,

so for matches I was summoned,

for sulfur he is addicted, apparently,

the idiot inhales the fumes,

like PX-smuggled perfumes,

but only a lighter without flashlight I had,

therefore, requested song was pirated;

You, said he, like Faust,

will inherit more than Job,

only accept the Temptations

ignored by a few,

like the Egyptian magician

in the wilderness who said, No!

but I, unlike he, said, I don’t know!

I’ll write Eddie Ilarde for advise, I added;

and Satan said, What the hell?

I shall return, he added,

and bade farewell.

Photo of Al Pacino in "The Devil's Advocate" courtesy of Listal.com

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5 comments:

Lydia said...

You sure packed a lot of imagery (literary and otherwise) into this new poem! On first reading, I don't understand all of it, which is a good thing, because I'll read it again. This seems like a poem that would take a lot out of you by the time it was finished. Maybe I'm wrong, and it simply rolled out easily and you felt free afterward. But I'm guessing that you had some elated exhaustion when it was completed!

Jonathan Aquino said...

I once on a roll, yeah, when I wrote it -- and rather, when it wrote itself. There are of course, certain deeper levels of significance but I tried to hide them through humor. Unfortunately, magazines in the Philippines would have none of it -- literally.

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