the poem the four-fold demon was written by Daniel Hayes in 1995. it was read along with the music he asked me to write for it in 1999 as part of his undergrad senior presentation at Maryville College.
the music buttons interspersed throughout the poem indicate when they should be listened to while reading the text.
the mp3s below are rendered from a Roland SC-255. the music is that used in the 1999 performance, and appears along with the text.
the beastthe priestthe mystic poetdemon iv
sex sexdrugs sexdrugsrock & roll The American Trinity Justice for all and to all a good night He knows man, he knows pimp, prophet, parasite He won’t kill you, only brainwash you with a little down time Afterwards poet, phool, promiser He always keeps the word he never gave He is what he claims to be, indefinable but tangible Roving step son of a spined Roman Consul Shunned but with great intellect seeking the keys to the garden gates past the flaming sword Songs of Roman passion are his gripping teeth’s forté He’ll take things his own way He knows man, he knows
Come out now child No more dreary daydreaming In the roots of your mind Come out with me and they Those demons in your heart Let them run and jump Amongst the craggy foothills And cask filled fields Forget what you know Your cells know more Forget the god you’ve been taught and the one you’ve found Let go of family and friends So that you might be free And unchained to lay On the white bed with pillars surrounding Your day's meal will be my kisses and your dreams will be filled with my freeing words White sheets will tangle Around your soft thighs Like my love around your heart Come and let us roll on soft as dove’s feathers pillows and let it all go and flow from the primal corners of our souls No more foolish trying or hope We will do and live and die and rot and be reborn all in the twinkling of an eye and the demons will sing our song of wasted motion to the tune of the fool’s anthem Can you hear it? Beginning softly. Can you hear it? I can, so come with me ,come with me the spinning cycles of the mind sometimes cue on man’s divine the little piece that like a prism reveals always the demon’s schism For if the four are in the one then the beast must sometimes have his fun I guess you’d say, "a gremlin with a loose leash," but I’d say, "A red faced demon in a three piece suit." He knows man, he knows and he lives inside death’s wasted motion throes.
I rode my horse from forests deep Where under heavy mists I’d sleep And seek to strain my eyes to see The pulsing vein of eternity Where there all men would Bathe in blood And sins released rise from the mud And stand upon the mountains high And with a gesture command the sky But as I’d stumble through the wood Leading quite blindly wherever I stood The only veins that bled were my own And no son of God’s on his son of God throne For the blood he’d bled was in my veins And on my tattered clothes was its holy stains And if in my body then why not All’s For surely we can see The Truth of The Fall…surely, surely, surely…we can listen on the wind. listen on the silence. listen to the men and past all their lonely violence for there is more to man than imperfection and there is less than divinity something indefinable but tangible deep and warm soft and old Stone cold truth.
The Bride of Truth wears a velvet veil. Lift and embrace in the bridal chamber the beautiful mate. Two are one and one is all. Pierced or removed the veil becomes clear. What lies beneath is something harsher than sand, smoother than glass, stronger than the steel of a thousand skyscrapers reaching towards the cage dome of the stars each point is a joint, an intersection where infinite impacts occur to a constant jungle rhythm. Enticing and enticed. "Lift me," it says, "I want to ascend with your right hand oh Earth God. Gaze on me and the seer and the seen will make what is now lived in and on. Earth and a thousand others, constructing a cage dome of stars penning in the question from the answer. Me to you is everything And the same as nothing Without straining to hear Your invitation And my acceptance Make me real ancient veil Velvet in texture and Temperment Together we will employ Even the Elemental to do our bidding If we knew what we wished for Make me real Caresses and kisses Almost there Winning over eternity to my side and its own Two are one and one is all. From a wet dream forms the promise. Touching, yes, even that is amazing in form Rapid frictions against the air producing no reaction Intent is everything Hold me close veiled lover I wonder, do you close your eyes when we kiss? I do. I close my eyes to the Bride of Truth And when they reopen themselves I can’t help wondering if I missed something I shouldn’t have. Are your eyes opened love? Are your eyes open?
The past and future unite to form time and time forms illusion. Past, future, both depend upon perception’s bobbing anchor for substance In the realm of the real and the sacred and the green there is only now A shining tree sentinel growing towards life Are you? There is only now Vagrants eyeing pockets And kings eyeing paupers Perfectly inverted in their matchbox foreplay of slaughter and cycles Perception will not hold. past, scrutinized future, unsure Both the same shadows of now and now Souls measure events in tree rings Fruits of our labors Growing towards life. Who are you? Now Question. Answer. We study illusion to understand ourselves Sweating hands holding clocks, ticking metal hands without moisture. Slavery and religion No chants, only obedience Placing hands in pockets Dry now, soft metal hands free to work in fever dreams, murder scenes, vagrants and kings Dry now and sane and slow Minutes move themselves I look through the one I cannot see and A great now appears to me and again, but new and always now. silence
alternate 4fd mp3s
the mp3s below are rendered from a Roland SC-255. these pieces were written with the intention of doing a longer studio recording of the poem and music.
[ti_audio name=”the four-fold demon tape version” height=”120″]