Dreaming myself awake

“Battle not with monsters
lest ye become a monster;
and if you gaze into the abyss,
the abyss gazes into you.”
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

here I am
shit my pants, and
pissed myself
with the smouldering
porphyries of dream

celebrating insanity, and
scribbling wizardry
on the walls

designing portals
to invoke the metaphor
into being

at the crest of
a rising mountain

conducting the dance
of symphony
enchanting the landscape
to take form

third eye dilated
visionary, seer

another user
the drain.

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.


Scraping the bowl

to find that I am
riding the dragon
with brittle hands
that grip
at its scales

I am conscious, yet
my body moves
as if directed
by another

remotely viewing
at the edge
as familiar to me, as
my habit

I don’t exist
I don’t exist
these aren’t my tears.

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.


There’s an asshole upstairs
that coughs
a wheezy, smoker’s cough
like a dog
that’s had its voice
removed, and now
it quaffs a warbled chortle

I hear it every night
in they come
up the stairs, stomping
to their rooms

This apartment is full
of degenerate filth

The pedophile’s on the
second floor, in the back
overlooking the playground
no children ever play there,
mind you, they have
spray paint, and lighters,
pre-teen adolescent
rebels, raised on
daddy’s Xbox, and the
baby-mommys have as many as
two children
before they’re twenty-one.

We’re all pretentious
There’s your provincial
unemployment rate, right there.
The non-voters, the anti-institutional,
the anti-establishment
I am
one of them
a drug using bedouin
here for the ride
pervert, manipulator
an it harm none, do
what ye will.

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.


gossamer; described artfully
for the purpose of:
whimsical hyperbole, or rhetoric:
an over-description of an
otherwise common trait,
or concept

a literary example
would be to
liken an emotion to
a physical symbol
such as
a mountain
the uphill struggle
or, love
that runs as deep
as an ocean
or, delicate grace being
attributed to

layered generously with
heavy words, yet
to only paint the surface

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.


I am preventing this
from becoming
the aneurysm
that kills
I feel it
in my neck,
throbbing, I press myself
against it
stiffening at the

Though, I am here
as I understand my

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.

The Athame

My first seance,
such a juvenile gathering
looking on it now
playing at magic

In attendance, by request of
a girl
one, I was determined
to see again,
and accompanied by
a friend that I convinced to join

He decided we ought to
learn the words
and so set about locating
an instructional document
lifted from the
arcane corners of
the internet, and
printed on
standard white
crumpled oddly
when it was unfolded
it had the look
of something smuggled away
in secrecy.  He chose
himself to act as Medium

The oldest of us
brought the athame

a rough sort of
post-pubescent nonsense
I remember
blonde hair dye,
leather jacket,
a Lost Boy interpretation
of Keifer Sutherland as
a farmhand renegade

his athame
was a hunting knife
six inch steel blade
brass and rosewood handle

he flung it
into the dirt
as though he’d imagined
it would stab the ground
a flimsy display
the girl on his arm
seemed to enjoy it
all the same
who she was, I don’t remember
I kept myself
from being introduced

With a food offering
of potato chips
we lit an impromptu fire
in a cemetery

a bad idea
in retrospect.  Only a few
words were spoken
before our charade was
dispersed by the authorities

I didn’t see that girl
after that night

Additional notes
by the author:

The Athame:

symbolic, as well
as chosen by the

the athame is
a short-bladed knife
of limitless physical
description, per the
of its instructor

the athame is
the symbolic representation
of the practitioners will
to manifest sacrifice

the blade is a sceptre

in colloquial languor:
an attenuator, or wand.

© Emerys Watchel, 2016 All rights reserved.