written 2004.07.30
uploaded 2004.07.30

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"Hell's Rebuke"
by Damascus Ochre

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Fingernails screaming down whitewashed walls
Bloodied corpses dreaming death in scrawls
Hopeless tears streaming down their faces
You wonder what it's like to be held in grace's
Eternity

But you shake your head at every opportunity
New ones appear and your heart yearns for more
But wondering, dreaming of secret-born unities
You find that you cannot use that mask you wore
Again

Lost in your wishes, dreams idle fantasies
Of a boy too young to know what he's thinking
The hurt and the pain and the tearing and blinking
Spider web thoughts leaving trails of blank memories
Behind

Seeking me for your untold desires
Hoping for answers, relief in my pyres
Find your reprieve from a different, my dear
In a place where nails that scream down walls
Is silent once again.

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Written at nearly three in the morning. I had just put down my copy of
Poppy Z. Brite's anthology of favorite authors, Love In Vein, having just
finished reading "Cherry," written by Christa Faust. The short story was
quite well-written, although I argue that fact when it comes to the ending
(too boringly concluded, I say), about an effeminate boy who finds himself
in the arms of his dreams: a vampire, pale flesh and blood. But the
illusions shatter and he comes to his senses; this is the idea behind this
poem.

I was attempting sleep, having decided that "Cherry" was a good enough
story to stop at, and, so, was lying comfortably in bed when I began to
ponder the day's events. Ohki-chan had come over earlier today (or, rather,
yesterday), and I was--for some unapparent reason--addicted to the
companionship of another dreamer. I felt like ripping something apart
because my emotions were so strong, needing the feel of another who
understood near me, but having only the consolation of my neighbor wall.
Thus came the idea for "Fingernails screaming down whitewashed walls."

I had long since closed my laptop and really didn't feel like leaning over
the side of my bed to pick it up; I'm actually quite happy that I did, for
this poem pleases me very much. I wrote it on a black background, and
hadn't bothered to change the font color to grey, so I couldn't read a
thing I was writing. But it was better that way. After I changed the
lettering to grey, I realized that the first two lines and the last two
lines were the only descriptive, beautifully sepulchral lines, and,
therefore, rewrote it to make it more--if I am permitted to say so--poetic.
The random rhyming scheme became nothing more than an idle way to create a
kind of flow through each stanza, and the fifth line with a single word was
born from an unfinished sentence.

The title "Hell's Rebuke" was not in mind at all during the writing phase
of this poem, although I had come to the thought that I must explain the
use of "pyres" in the final stanza without making it seem as though I put
the fiery word there for the sole purpose of rhyming with "desires." I had
decided (right after finishing the "second," more poetic draft of this
poem) that the speaker was Death and speaking to one who dreamed of but was
too scared to meet him. Therefore, the entity of Death proclaims that one
should not seek him for "relief in my pyres," thus rebuking one from the
fires of--for lack of anything better to say--hell. ...Yes, I may be
implying that everyone will go to hell; then again, I don't exactly believe
in heaven and hell, so you may be completely wrong in your idle
accusations.

In any case, this poem was quite interesting to write. My style of poetry
has become slightly more coherent again--and of darker proportions, as
well. I am quite proud of this piece.

...Perhaps having read "Cherry" has brought me back to the descriptive
nothings that I appear to be speaking in. The hint of aristocracy and high-
bred grace to my words was most likely also drawn from said short story's
vampiric tones. It is quite...welcoming to return to such a tone. I don't
quite remember the last time I used it, although it does seem a while ago.
I truly hope that it decides to stay for some time.