The Monster Inside

I'm tired,

falling into another daydream,

wanting someone to grab me by the arm

and shake me back to reality

I'm choking on my own blood

walking back and forth through the dark, musty

corridors of my mind

the ceiling drips,

drips

twisting,

falling, 

shaking,

the walls of the corridors breathe with

every step I take

they envelop me

and then release

gripping,

releasing,

pulling me along

every ten feet,

a dim lamp -

but the shadows are stronger

I can only see the outlines

the walls pull me along

The stale air sets heavy in my lungs

it is a thick river

flowing in

and out

I breath and I step in sync with 

the corridors

my footsteps echo

my heartbeat echos

every step is heavier

sinking,

falling,

holding fast to the slimy, 

moss-covered bricks

holding fast to the light of the next lantern

holding fast to the hope of an escape

The darkness weakens me

I fall

and succumb to the grip of the 

serpent-like floor

the bricks become scales,

the hideous skin of the beast,

secreting an acid

that eats my skin

and burns

and dissolves me

until I cannot feel the difference

between myself and the floor

oozing,

unfolding,

I become one with the beast

and I breathe as it breathes

my heart beats as its heart beats

falling,

sinking,

moss-covered and slimy,

I become stone

I am bricks

I am corridors

the dim lights hit my surface

and I am one with the monster...

- Feb. 20, 1984, A.D.

Letter to Stan Ridgeway

Dear Stan,

Hello!  I'm glad to see you got this letter.  My name is Sharon Porter, and I'm a devoted follower of yours.  I only wish I could keep up-to-date with your projects.  Not much news comes around Central Illinois.  Anyway, I just wanted to write and tell you that you have a fantastic voice.  I'm also very impressed by the lyrics and your style on the keyboards.

Me?  I'm a poet, but would love to pursue music.  I just put together my first two songs with a friend of mine.  In each one, I'm basically reciting my poems to the music.  The first one sounds like a showtune.  It's called, "What Frightens Me Most? Insanity".  Although the poem is quite serious, the song sounds pretty light.  It's a little haunting.  The second one is meant to be kind of pseudo-punk (perhaps a little bit of a take-off on valley).  It's called, "I'm Vacant".  Anyway, we're getting together an acoustic guitarist, a violinist, harpist, flutist, trumpet player, and perhaps me doing some strange effects with walkie-talkies.  Although we may be playing at a place locally, I can't honestly take any of this seriously, but it should be a lot of fun.  My dream is to someday be able to afford keyboards.  Any suggestions as to how to succeed in music?  Is there any easy way?  No, I don't suppose there is.

Well, I hope to continue following you in the future.  If I don't ever get a chance to meet you, I hope to at least see you perform someday.  Or who knows?  Maybe someday you'll see me perform.  If you ever hear of a band called Pagan Lip-Readers, don't pass up the chance to go see them.  I'll probably be with them doing something or other.  Until then (!!!), I hope you have a lot of success and go very far.  I'm behind you all the way.

Love,

Sharon Porter

- Feb. 1, 1984, A.D.

Child of the New Day

Sweet, sweet child

with large, innocent eyes

and radiant smile

inquisitive mind

come, tell me your secret

let me capture a ray of your sunshine

Child of the morning star,

how is it that you perceive so well

what we see as complex and impossible?

if I could only gain some of your insight

if I could only see through your eyes

just after noon, you are at your peak,

dancing with the daffodils

and singing for me to come join

if only I could,

I'd be there in a second!

but I must be reasonable

I must think of war and politics

this is truth, to me

Summertime sunset child

lay your warm glow before me

let me catch the last glimmer of another

fleeting day

you have still not revealed to me

the source of youth's insight

why won't you do this one favor for me?

but children don't understand such obligations

you dance before me

but will not let me in!

how can you be so peaceful

in this turbulent world?

Child of the moon

reflecting daytime's glow

how happily you sleep!

don't you know of all the

suffering in the world

how can it not touch you?

alas, my child,

sleep well

tomorrow, you will understand reality

tomorrow, you will be aware of life's

injustices

Child of a new day

don't make humanity's mistakes

keep that warm, innocent glow

never,

never stop dancing among the flowers!

perhaps someday,

I might join you again,

but today,

I must carry banners

and be careful in love

and be cynical towards the leaders

of the people

I must fight for your future

so that you may always carry

the light

I never had time for

Sweet, sweet child

yours is the sunshine that

may melt the ice

and warm the world once again...

- Jan. 30, 1984, A.D.

Every Season Hurts: A Melodrama

Day after day

the leaves fall and blow across the road 

Why they fall is no matter

that they fall is important

I am crushed like a leaf under the foot of life

pay no mind to my tears

Day after day

the snow falls and sweeps through the air

like a silent angel

but the wind bites at eyes and ears

I melt like that snow

becoming grey and washing down the gutter

pay no mind to my tears

Day after day

the rain falls on the sidewalk 

and beats 

heavily 

against every new blade of grass

the thunder drums and rolls along the sky

I am like the rain,

accumulating mud and sweeping over 

the ground

pay no mind to my tears

Day after day

the sun falls down into the horizon

but the heat remains

the leaves of the trees whisper in the hot wind

I am like the sun

living in the memory of yesterday's 

brilliant sunset

pay no mind to my tears

Day after day 

my life falls 

like two suicidal lovers

down the cliff of life

they clench each other as they

fall to their death

but one survives

although broken and bloody,

she still lives

only one lover is always doomed to survive

in my life

pay no mind to my tears

- Jan. 26, 1984, A.D.

She is me

Shy eye 

but it does not conceal

what she would have revealed

a sigh

released under her breath

is just the sign of inner death

and slowly she walks

and slowly she speaks

and lonely she is

she is me

across the room,

her heart trips over

a stepping stone

she looks up in hopes

that I did not hear

sorry, I thought,

it wasn't my right

I won't do it again

and slowly she walks

and slowly she speaks

and lonely she is

she is me

across the room,

a teardrop falls

and she looks up in hopes

that I did not see

sorry, I thought,

I'll look away next time

her soul is fluttering between 

two places

between laughter, smiles, familiar faces

and the deep dark tunnels 

where there are only traces

of lost memories and tears

and slowly she walks

and slowly she speaks

and lonely she is

she is me

painfully, I set out to tear down the wall

I stand up and walk through

the barrier between us

she's surprised

not angry

not scared

not annoyed

but surprised

I smile at her and think,

she is me

I must tear down walls

within me

how strange it is

and how familiar

and slowly she walks

and slowly she speaks

and lonely she is

she is me

shy eye

but it does not conceal

what she would have revealed

a sigh

released under her breath

is just the sign of inner death

as I confront her,

she is relieved 

she sees what I have seen

a wall broken down

confidence built up

she had been lost,

confused

now she's been found by herself -

by me

and slowly she walks

and slowly she speaks

and lonely she is

she is me

- Jan. 17, 1984

Lady Death

Death -

so close to me

yet such a stranger -

takes a long, thin, white finger

and draws an invisible line down my back,

touching off each nerve along the way

It's cold

I flinch

yet somehow it invigorates me

I won't look back,

nor can I

Although death whispers to me,

I tease her

letting her come close enough to touch -

but not grasp -

any part of me

as long as there is the space there 

to laugh,

I know I'm safe

In my dreams,

she nears closer,

but awake, I hold strong

against her;

not fearful,

only amused

But death has other plans for me, yet

she also laughs

Every once in a while, we sit down in a 

smoke-filled room

and play poker

and joke that the winner takes 

my life

but death is a terrible poker player

I never worry

There was a time, once, 

when I confronted death

I told her that she might as well 

have me, now

she told me, 

honestly,

she didn't want to see it happen

our games together had been

too much fun

she talked me out of it

sometimes, even she is reasonable

Death holds no secrets from me

and there are no surprises

when she wants me, I will go

I can't argue, when she's let me come this far

Some say they are ruled by faith 

or hope

or high ideals

but I am the best friend of death

she is a gray and awesome woman

and knows things that I should never

hope to know

but she provides the life in me

When she holds out her hand,

I will take it

I will trust her judgement

and when she finally calls my name,

I will follow...

- Jan. 17, 1984, A.D.

Most influential albums

Beatles - Sgt. Pepper, White Album, Let it Be

Bowie - Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust

Blondie - Parallel Lines

Duran Duran - Seven & the Ragged Tiger

Gary Numan - Pleasure Principle

Pink Floyd - The Wall

Peter Gabriel - 3rd Album (Mercury)

Cat Stevens - Tea for the Tillerman

Don McLean - American Pie

John Lennon - Shaved Fish

Sex Pistols - Never Mind the Bullocks

Byrne-Eno - My Life in the Bush of Ghosts

Dead Kennedys - In God We Trust, Inc.

Brian Eno - Before and After Science

Duran Duran - Rio

Rocky Horror Picture Show

Sesame Street Album [not kidding!]