In The Demon's Head #143: Blast From The Past #5
July 23, 2013
Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of "Blast From The Past" Tuesday. Today will be slightly different because I will only be including 2 pieces this week. It was all in an attempt to keep everything on a schedule so this week just has the short stick. With that said, I'd like to introduce, or possibly re-introduce you to a couple of past pieces.
July 23, 2013
Hello everyone and welcome to another edition of "Blast From The Past" Tuesday. Today will be slightly different because I will only be including 2 pieces this week. It was all in an attempt to keep everything on a schedule so this week just has the short stick. With that said, I'd like to introduce, or possibly re-introduce you to a couple of past pieces.
Cleansing of The Storm
There were memories in that house,
Memories that wouldn’t go away,
Memories that were fresh like scabs,
On open wounds that were inflicted,
By those who were supposed to care,
But were so deep,
They were like scars that added,
To the story of an ugly outside,
Life was never easy,
But the end would come soon,
I kept holding out hope,
While new scabs were formed,
And the old ones,
Turned into more ugly scars,
I knew it would come eventually,
To take me away,
And then I heard it one day,
The crack of thunder,
Unmistakable,
Like the clap of god,
Was ushering its way through,
I knew this was the moment,
The day,
That I had been waiting for,
I felt the walls shake,
In the hallowed,
Shell of a Home,
If you could call it a home
I called it a prison,
The thunder clapped again,
As I walked out the front door,
And I felt the building shudder again behind me,
I walked briskly,
I didn’t know where I was going,
But what was coming,
I didn’t want to be there for,
The storm raged,
And I hid,
In a cellar,
At least a mile,
Maybe more away,
When the sun came out,
I walked back down the road,
And the walls,
Were flattened,
Shaken off its foundation,
And collapsed in on itself,
No part of me wanted it anymore,
And I turned walking back down the road,
Never taking a single look back,
Letting the Storm,
Open new doors,
And a new life,
For me
About The Piece
This piece was inspired both by my strange mind with a bit of influence from Carrie Underwoods’ Hit song “Blown Away” I’m hoping that I didn’t copy it quite as bad as I thought in my head. Either way the piece came out amazing I think. Let me know in the comments what you think of the picture and the piece.
****
The Ride
It came up for sale on the internet,
One of those Facebook sites,
They wanted $350 dollars,
But the car looked to be in absolute,
Perfect condition,
I was skeptical,
But I took the meeting,
And decided that I wanted to know,
If it was too good to be true,
My head said that it was,
But I wanted to believe,
I was a kid,
Working minimum wage,
And needed a car,
It wasn’t the most masculine car,
But if it worked,
I couldn’t complain,
The car ran fine,
And the price tag,
Was indeed real,
So I bought it,
Weeks went by with no problems,
Then one day I found the car across the street,
As if pushed out of my driveway,
Perfectly parked,
I drove it for a few days,
Then one day I came out,
To find all the windows destroyed,
All four door windows,
The windshield,
And the back glass,
All broken in,
Nothing was missing,
And all of the glass seemed to be on the ground,
As if broken from the inside,
I fixed the windows,
And on the first drive to work,
I looked into the rearview,
And in the flash,
I thought I saw a child,
No more then 7,
But in a blink,
They were gone,
I sat at home that night,
And thought to look up the car,
Information was scarce,
But I found something that blew my mind,
The very car I was driving,
Had been wrecked,
Shortly after purchase,
The mother was driving down the road,
Her 7 year old son in the back,
They said that she had a meltdown,
And drove over a bridge,
Into the river,
The car sank,
As she laughed,
The son tried to fight,
But couldn’t get out before he drown,
The car was towed from the river,
Funerals held,
And the car was refinished,
Inside and Out,
And resold,
Reports were that people kept seeing a child,
In the back,
The kid was smiling,
In a sadistic way,
Laughing,
As if he was enjoying what was,
About to happen,
I laid awake that night,
And in my head,
I heard the laughter,
The sadistic laughter,
Of mother and child,
I heard a noise outside,
And leaned up to look out the window,
In the drivers’ seat,
The woman looked at me,
The split grin rolled across her face,
The son,
In the back smiling devilishly,
The car rolled backwards,
Slowly,
And suddenly made impact with an on-coming semi,
The car was crushed,
But as I stand here,
At the junk yard,
Looking at the scrap of metal,
I can’t help but thank the woman for saving my life,
Or maybe the son,
Should be the one to thank,
Because that grin,
Still haunts my dreams,
And I swear she mouthed the words,
Join Us,
Before the car rolled back,
In fact that image,
Still sends a chill down my spine,
I’m happy that they finally found a new home,
But I feel like I keep seeing something in the mirrors,
Of the house now,
About The Piece
This was one of the longer pieces that I’ve written for this photo-blogging challenge. It’s also one of the hardest that I had to come up with. The picture never really seemed to speak to me but I think I found a good story within it. Overall, the three pictures that I did this week seemed to be the hardest I’ve ran into but I think that the pieces do them justice. I’d love to know what you think. Feel free to share your feedback in the comments section.
****
The Face
The image is burned into my head,
Like a horribly done name,
On a knitted sweater,
I can’t explain why,
But I know that he’s coming back,
I may confuse you,
But stick with me,
It started years ago,
I was a small child,
And I was taken away from my parents,
They claimed that I was crazy,
That I saw things,
That weren’t there,
That I heard voices,
That were only in my head,
The place they took me,
Kept me,
Took us on trips,
It was during one of these outings,
That I saw that face for the first time,
On a tree,
Carved in with a knife,
As if just for me,
In my head,
I knew it was a sign,
I knew that it was something,
That would lead me,
In life,
And I was right,
The face,
Was given as a way,
To choose the path,
That I needed to walk,
Eventually,
My parents died,
And every test proved that I was normal,
But I had been taught how to cheat the system,
By the face,
As soon as I was on the outside,
I began his work,
Murder,
Killing,
And saving their souls,
For him,
It wasn’t long,
Until I found myself caught again,
And this time I was put in prison,
And that’s where I stand now,
Still doing his work,
Only this time it’s inmates,
People who bare his mark,
The mark of the Face,
I feel vindicated,
Every time one of them stops breathing,
As if he’s proud of me,
But I can’t ever be sure,
I can only sit and wait,
For my next target,
I have a feeling,
That it won’t be long,
Before he pops up,
His face again.
About The Piece
This was one of those pictures where I really had no idea what I was doing at first. I had a few ideas go through my head but I didn’t know if any of them would work. Finally I sat down and started running with this piece. I can understand how it’s kind of confusing but the underlying meaning should be obvious. At least I hope so.
****
In the end, we had 3 instead of 2 pieces. I'm okay with this and I hope that you enjoy it as well. Feel free to share your comments on any of the pieces that you read today, or any that you may read in the future. I love the feedback.
You can sign up for my mailing list by filling out the form over on the right hand side. You'll receive a free copy of the new piece "Duke" it's the first short story It follows a man who finds himself realizing that love will always find a way, above or below ground. Check it out and share your thoughts.
Until the next time you want to take a trip through the gates of hell and into the demon's head, I'm Kyle Robinson wishing you a safe trip back to the surface.
There were memories in that house,
Memories that wouldn’t go away,
Memories that were fresh like scabs,
On open wounds that were inflicted,
By those who were supposed to care,
But were so deep,
They were like scars that added,
To the story of an ugly outside,
Life was never easy,
But the end would come soon,
I kept holding out hope,
While new scabs were formed,
And the old ones,
Turned into more ugly scars,
I knew it would come eventually,
To take me away,
And then I heard it one day,
The crack of thunder,
Unmistakable,
Like the clap of god,
Was ushering its way through,
I knew this was the moment,
The day,
That I had been waiting for,
I felt the walls shake,
In the hallowed,
Shell of a Home,
If you could call it a home
I called it a prison,
The thunder clapped again,
As I walked out the front door,
And I felt the building shudder again behind me,
I walked briskly,
I didn’t know where I was going,
But what was coming,
I didn’t want to be there for,
The storm raged,
And I hid,
In a cellar,
At least a mile,
Maybe more away,
When the sun came out,
I walked back down the road,
And the walls,
Were flattened,
Shaken off its foundation,
And collapsed in on itself,
No part of me wanted it anymore,
And I turned walking back down the road,
Never taking a single look back,
Letting the Storm,
Open new doors,
And a new life,
For me
About The Piece
This piece was inspired both by my strange mind with a bit of influence from Carrie Underwoods’ Hit song “Blown Away” I’m hoping that I didn’t copy it quite as bad as I thought in my head. Either way the piece came out amazing I think. Let me know in the comments what you think of the picture and the piece.
****
The Ride
It came up for sale on the internet,
One of those Facebook sites,
They wanted $350 dollars,
But the car looked to be in absolute,
Perfect condition,
I was skeptical,
But I took the meeting,
And decided that I wanted to know,
If it was too good to be true,
My head said that it was,
But I wanted to believe,
I was a kid,
Working minimum wage,
And needed a car,
It wasn’t the most masculine car,
But if it worked,
I couldn’t complain,
The car ran fine,
And the price tag,
Was indeed real,
So I bought it,
Weeks went by with no problems,
Then one day I found the car across the street,
As if pushed out of my driveway,
Perfectly parked,
I drove it for a few days,
Then one day I came out,
To find all the windows destroyed,
All four door windows,
The windshield,
And the back glass,
All broken in,
Nothing was missing,
And all of the glass seemed to be on the ground,
As if broken from the inside,
I fixed the windows,
And on the first drive to work,
I looked into the rearview,
And in the flash,
I thought I saw a child,
No more then 7,
But in a blink,
They were gone,
I sat at home that night,
And thought to look up the car,
Information was scarce,
But I found something that blew my mind,
The very car I was driving,
Had been wrecked,
Shortly after purchase,
The mother was driving down the road,
Her 7 year old son in the back,
They said that she had a meltdown,
And drove over a bridge,
Into the river,
The car sank,
As she laughed,
The son tried to fight,
But couldn’t get out before he drown,
The car was towed from the river,
Funerals held,
And the car was refinished,
Inside and Out,
And resold,
Reports were that people kept seeing a child,
In the back,
The kid was smiling,
In a sadistic way,
Laughing,
As if he was enjoying what was,
About to happen,
I laid awake that night,
And in my head,
I heard the laughter,
The sadistic laughter,
Of mother and child,
I heard a noise outside,
And leaned up to look out the window,
In the drivers’ seat,
The woman looked at me,
The split grin rolled across her face,
The son,
In the back smiling devilishly,
The car rolled backwards,
Slowly,
And suddenly made impact with an on-coming semi,
The car was crushed,
But as I stand here,
At the junk yard,
Looking at the scrap of metal,
I can’t help but thank the woman for saving my life,
Or maybe the son,
Should be the one to thank,
Because that grin,
Still haunts my dreams,
And I swear she mouthed the words,
Join Us,
Before the car rolled back,
In fact that image,
Still sends a chill down my spine,
I’m happy that they finally found a new home,
But I feel like I keep seeing something in the mirrors,
Of the house now,
About The Piece
This was one of the longer pieces that I’ve written for this photo-blogging challenge. It’s also one of the hardest that I had to come up with. The picture never really seemed to speak to me but I think I found a good story within it. Overall, the three pictures that I did this week seemed to be the hardest I’ve ran into but I think that the pieces do them justice. I’d love to know what you think. Feel free to share your feedback in the comments section.
****
The Face
The image is burned into my head,
Like a horribly done name,
On a knitted sweater,
I can’t explain why,
But I know that he’s coming back,
I may confuse you,
But stick with me,
It started years ago,
I was a small child,
And I was taken away from my parents,
They claimed that I was crazy,
That I saw things,
That weren’t there,
That I heard voices,
That were only in my head,
The place they took me,
Kept me,
Took us on trips,
It was during one of these outings,
That I saw that face for the first time,
On a tree,
Carved in with a knife,
As if just for me,
In my head,
I knew it was a sign,
I knew that it was something,
That would lead me,
In life,
And I was right,
The face,
Was given as a way,
To choose the path,
That I needed to walk,
Eventually,
My parents died,
And every test proved that I was normal,
But I had been taught how to cheat the system,
By the face,
As soon as I was on the outside,
I began his work,
Murder,
Killing,
And saving their souls,
For him,
It wasn’t long,
Until I found myself caught again,
And this time I was put in prison,
And that’s where I stand now,
Still doing his work,
Only this time it’s inmates,
People who bare his mark,
The mark of the Face,
I feel vindicated,
Every time one of them stops breathing,
As if he’s proud of me,
But I can’t ever be sure,
I can only sit and wait,
For my next target,
I have a feeling,
That it won’t be long,
Before he pops up,
His face again.
About The Piece
This was one of those pictures where I really had no idea what I was doing at first. I had a few ideas go through my head but I didn’t know if any of them would work. Finally I sat down and started running with this piece. I can understand how it’s kind of confusing but the underlying meaning should be obvious. At least I hope so.
****
In the end, we had 3 instead of 2 pieces. I'm okay with this and I hope that you enjoy it as well. Feel free to share your comments on any of the pieces that you read today, or any that you may read in the future. I love the feedback.
You can sign up for my mailing list by filling out the form over on the right hand side. You'll receive a free copy of the new piece "Duke" it's the first short story It follows a man who finds himself realizing that love will always find a way, above or below ground. Check it out and share your thoughts.
Until the next time you want to take a trip through the gates of hell and into the demon's head, I'm Kyle Robinson wishing you a safe trip back to the surface.