Angel Demon

Laid between brown brittle papers
their news a dozed decades past:
a drawer, not looked in for a life.
Torn, faded photographic face
of child in naked strife.

Print salted, callous Kalos
actions coarse as paper's graining image
caught by exposing light.
(An age of substance without thought
of dark corrupting fright.)

Who was this girl, her frail
form chastely, bruised by besting man?
Ill fed with seed (but not of bread):
was her life a sordid secret
as this picture of forgotten dead?

Within these walls of hate I saw a ghost.

A whirling form borne like the dust
(as wayward as her Fuhrer's trust)?

What fate had led her to this pass,
the player in a rhythmic mask
of mime and ape.

So small that death should be her mate.

Poor fool
in life I were a child
(but now as demon walk the shades of night).

Yes, slight in form
for I can mask your sight
and show the face of beauty if you wish.

But list' a whisper in your ear:

I know no fear
so take my love and hold me close
that we may feel the chill of flesh ...
then feast your death!

We are as the Spring Cherry ...
I gaunt, rough skinned
yet solid in my nakedness.

For a season your bejewelled flower
will caress me
and make whole my angled harshness.

Though contrasting in form
we are of the same root,
our flesh is fast.

Mine will still be so
when time has withered
your fragile beauty.

This group of images and poems was developed over several years starting around 1993 and finally being printed in 1998. One of the problems at that time was the lack of good quality paper for the then available printers.