the four-fold demon

four-fold demon album art

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.

4fd recording

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


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
poet, phool, promiser
He always keeps the
word he never gave
He is what he claims to be, 
	indefinable but
Roving step son of 
a spined Roman Consul

Shunned but with great intellect
	seeking the keys to the garden
gates past the

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
Let go of family and friends 
So that you might be free
And unchained to lay
On the white bed with pillars

Your day's meal will be my
kisses and your dreams will
be filled with my freeing
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 
But as I’d stumble through the 
Leading quite blindly wherever I 
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
And on my tattered clothes was
its holy stains
And if in my body then why not 
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
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 
Together we will employ
Even the Elemental
	to do our
If we knew what we wished
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 

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
And when they reopen themselves
I can’t help wondering if I
missed something I shouldn’t 
Are your eyes opened love?
Are your eyes open?


The past and future unite to 
	form time and time forms
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?

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.

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″]

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