Compatible Monsters - 1

She sits curled in a corner on the floor,

Rocking back and forth, eyes tightly shut,

Trying to repel the coming dark,

And with it all the tiny bugs and germs,

Crawling on her skin and in her hair,

Arms held tightly, straight jacket cocoon,

She daren`t open them, lest they notice,

And crawl inside her mouth, her ears, her nose,

Watching them devour both her eyes.

Tiny little room with small window,

Single shaft of sunlight on the floor,

Lumpy bed, bolted to the wall,

Left unused, for madness never sleeps,

She rarely leaves the floor (they`re in the sheets),

Always rocking back and forth, all day,

Long dark hair hangs limply in her face,

Every fingernail filed to a claw.

She rarely speaks, but never stops thinking,

Immersed in her own thoughts and memories,

And the most carefully crafted plan:

Smash her face against the concrete wall,

Bleed like hell, then call for a nurse,

When he comes to check her injuries,

Tear his face to ribbons, take the keys,

And get the hell out of this place for good.

The first strike on the concrete hurts like hell. 

"Push past the pain", she whispers. "Don't give up."

Over and over, until blood stains the floor, 

The wall, her jacket, congealed in her hair,

With every strike, she cries out in pain,

Voice unused and scratchy, weak and soft,

Frustrated, she tries to shout again,

When a voice beyond the wall says, "Stop."

Stunned, her big eyes open and aware,

Her fingers on the wall, she says, "Hello?

Is someone there? Please tell me who you are.

I don't get visitors -- only needles,

So it's hard to tell what's real or false;

If you're a real person, please tell me so,

But if your voice is only in my head,

I will smash you out onto the floor."

"I wouldn't recommend it," says the voice,

The orderlies don't care if you bleed out.

Besides, we both know you don't want to die;

You want what we all do, little girl:

To get the hell out of this awful place,

Live a life worth living. Am I wrong?

But the truth is, if you want to leave,

Concussion's not the answer -- patience is."

She looks around the room and starts to cry.

"I shouldn't be here now -- I'm not crazy --

I just wanted to be left alone.

He wouldn't stop. I screamed my damned head off.

Worms and maggots poured from his angry mouth.

He just laughed and pulled a butcher knife,

So I did the only thing I could:

I took the blade, and cut the bastard down."

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that,

That monsters roam the world in plainest sight,

And that you're here -- this is no kind of place

For someone so young, and so strong willed.

I don't know your name, or where you're from,

But friends are hard to come by in this place.

Here's what I propose: I will be your friend,

But you must promise not to hurt yourself."

"Why should I believe a word you say?

How do I know you're not in my head,

Part of my subconscious, tricking me?

You still haven't told me your name,

Where you came from, what you're doing here,

Or what's in it for you to be my friend.

Pardon me for being suspicious,

But I don't need saving, Prince Charming."

"You'll believe me -- there's no other choice.

I'm the only hope you have, my friend.

I've been here for so long, you won't believe

How much I've seen and heard around this place;

I know every inch of this hellhole,

Every secret, rumour and favour,

Every dirty nurse and crooked guard.

Without me you won't make it out your door.

Does she trust him, or heed her instinct?

He's not been rude or otherwise uncouth,

But why wait until now to say something?

Still, he seems to want to lend a hand,

Besides, his voice is smooth, but with a bite --

Like a stiff drink, his voice is soothing.

At worst, he's someone to talk to,

And who knows? Maybe he can be helpful.

"Fine", she mutters, "But remember this:

Betray me and I'll gut you like a fish."

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015. 

Fantasy in 5 Sonnets

1.

 The light that shines from out thy perfect face,

A universe of beauty in thy kiss;

Such a memory transcends time and space --

There would be no better thing than this.

My fingers yearn to stroke thy flawless skin,

Sweep a wayward hair from out thine eyes,

Place my thumb and finger 'neath thy chin, 

And claim one kiss: thy perfect, luscious prize. 

But still, there is a single, lingering fear:

That as the kiss begins and we ascend,

Life, as always, has to interfere,

And much to my chagrin, the kiss will end.

Mouths and tongues in hot intensity,

All else lost, a fading memory.

----

2.

So patient, how our lips mingle and dance,

Consciousness so quickly fades away;

Left to bask in passion and romance, 

And thoughts most sensuous, even risqué.

Passion builds and bodies intertwine,

Eager hands, they wander and explore,

Craving thee, seizing thee as mine,

Groping, tasting, needing ever more.

Belts and buttons keep the moment chaste,

But good behavior doesn't last for long;

Neither wants the lust to go to waste,

Thy sighs and moans a lovely, lilting song.

I want you darling. That much you can guess,

Let's make us a great big, sexy mess.

----

3.

Clothes flung to the floor, save underwear,

Thy skin near bare in panties and a tank,

Immaculate -- I can't help but stare, 

Thy form leaves me awed, my mind a blank.

Tangled in each other on the bed,

So close to the edge, my passions swell,

Composure and restraint hangs by a thread,

So close to bliss, a most exquisite hell.

Thine expression pleading for my lust,

Slender hands caress my growing heat,

Driven to obsession, hips athrust,

Grinding on my fingers, cooing sweet. 

Give thyself to me, my darling. Please.

Only so long can we stroke and tease.

----

4.

The moment comes at last when our restraint

Is not enough to keep our beasts at bay;

Our bodies hungry, yearning to acquaint,

Every scrap of clothing tossed away. 

Fingers, mouths and tongues e'er occupied,

Slow and patient, bodies writhe and twist,

Flame becomes inferno, deep inside --

All thoughts of composure long dismissed.

Finally, the moment comes at last,

Sinking into warm slick ecstasy,

Thy moans and cries a pleasure unsurpassed--

Thy gasps the soundtrack to our revelry.

Gladly shall I do as you bespeak,

Climbing e'er toward our passion's peak.

----

5.

Savage. Fierce, our lust; so full of want,

Neither of us rushing t'ward the end,

Playful but intense, we tease and taunt,

Savouring every moment we can spend.

Faster, harder, o'er and o'er again,

Building e'er toward the final burst,

Rising, steaming boiling o'er, and then

The dam gives way, so full and uncoerced. 

Thy body tenses, tightening 'round my own,

Thrashing and convulsing t'ward thine bliss,

So beautiful, thy voice's frantic tone;

And all because we shared a perfect kiss.

Come lie here with me, my lovely one,

Perhaps we'll nap by light of rising sun.

--- fin ---

© Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Meteors (as fictitiously narrated by Insane Clown Posse)

Out of the darkness comes the meteor shower 

Hell smashes the Earth, knocks out the power

Water mains burst, gas pipes explode

I'm running like hell -- my lungs on overload

There's fire all over, sirens, people are screaming

Keep pinching myself, making sure I'm not dreaming

Is Armageddon coming? Is the world finally over?

Are we all out of rabbits' feet and four leaf clover?

[Chorus]

End of times, it's the end of the world

(We made us a mess, it's too late to confess)

End of times, it's the end of the world

(Played all of our games, and now it's in flames)

I'm having this sex dream about me and Miley

This noise like a wrecking ball wakes me up (I ain't too smiley)

Takes me like ten minutes to get off the floor,

And this six foot meteor crashes through my FRONT DOOR

Now I gotta run for my life in my underwear

There's fire falling on everything, chaos is fuckin'EVERYWHERE  

Trip on a garden gnome and I'm face down on somebody's lawn

Screaming over and over WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

[Chorus]

End of times, it's the end of the world

(We made us a mess, it's too late to confess)

End of times, it's the end of the world

(Played all of our games, and now it's in flames)

Still runnin' down the block and it's kickin' my ass

Spot my half-naked homie, face down in the grass

I'm like what are you doing, dumbass? What happened to your clothes?

Oh I'm sorry, in all the fuckin' TERROR I didn't have time to GRAB those 

You know what man, I'm sorry. I shouldn't panic

Wait-- we've got no weed? Oh FUCKING FANTASTIC

Yeah guys, look. If this is the Rapture

I'ma check y'all later once we're in the hereafter

Hey homies, if God's up there we'll get his attention

We'll judge HIS ASS, and hear HIS FUCKIN CONFESSION

[Chorus]

End of times, it's the end of the world

(We made us a mess, it's too late to confess)

End of times, it's the end of the world

(Played all of our games, and now it's in flames)

----

© Jackson Cambridge, 2015

(I'm not even sorry. Except perhaps to ICP.)

Twilight

When our twilight comes to pass, 

And we've become old and gray, 

I promise I'll still grab thine ass,

And kiss thy skin most every day. 

When the bones are frail and sore,

And my teeth are held with glue, 

I'll love thee just as before,

And thy smile I'll e'er pursue.

Bring you coffee, pretty words,

Chocolate as a nice surprise,

And, as private time affords,

Kiss the lids of both your eyes. 

When the world grows loud and strange,

And we find ourselves confused,

We may be too old to change,

But we can keep ourselves amused. 

Someday, love, this time will end,

Let's have no regrets at all;

I'm lucky to have found a friend

In whom my love will never fall. 

----

© Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Sonnet - Eclipsed

Beauty is a thing found everywhere:

A butterfly, a sunrise or a smile,

A baby's laugh, the smell of fresh, clean air,

Or when that special song comes on the dial.

The first few moments of the morning sun,

So comfortable within the bed's cocoon, 

Basking in the day as yet unspun, 

As brilliant azure sky blots out the moon.

Yet waxing on the elegance and grace

In every moment we can recognize,

Is nothing when compared to lover's face,

Her touch, her kiss, the twinkle in her eyes.

Her beauty leaves all other types to shame --

Especially when she sighs her poet's name.

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

The Dark Goddess - 5

    My ankle's broken. Hurts like hell and I don't care. I need to get out of these clothes and wash that goddamn bellboy off me. I need a car, a smoke and a cup of coffee. 

    First, the clothes. This one's easy. All I gotta do is find the nearest bar, find a guy who has my fashion sense, and challenge him at pool, for whatever I think he really loves. It always ends the same. He loses, refuses to pay, I get delightful, he gets rude, and challenges me to a fight. Which he also loses, once I drag him outside and bat him around a little. Eventually I'll get bored, tell the guy, 'Look, I can't take your precious whatever, I can tell it means a lot to you, blah blah blah. But, I'll tell you what: you got a nice lookin' jacket there, whaddya say I take that instead?' Works every time. I'll even leave the guy's wallet and keys, most of the time. I'm not an asshole. 

    Finding a car's not so hard either, just gotta be careful. No flash, no bright colours, no new models. Find a rusty-ass car nobody gives a damn about, boost it, and ditch it. And again, I always leave the keys in it, and park it properly somewhere. I'm not an asshole.

    A quick stop for gas, and I'm out of Tucker's Cross, headed toward the Interstate. Whoever owns this car has better taste in music than he does in car alarms. 

    Sun's going to set in a couple of hours, which means She will awaken, and I will hear her blood call me home. 

Yes, Goddess. I am coming. Anything for you.

My life for you.

----

© Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

Retreat (Blank Verse)

My love for thee is nigh immeasurable:

I long to be closer to you, always;

Your perfect kiss a promise of thy heart

That beats along in time with mine alone...

We are one, my bliss -- let us rejoice

And bask in our endless affection.

Would that we could stay here, just this way,

Spend our days in one another's arms --

Alas, but life -- it beckons constantly;

I can't bear to leave you for too long

But fret not, darling, we shall meet once more,

And tumble into love all o'er again

Let this be, my nymphet, our retreat:

A place to lie together, ignorant

Of stress or pressure, or even of pain;

A sanctuary of our own design

Where our desires trump reality,

And love is truly all that we require. 

----

© Jackson Cambridge, 2015

The Fawn

As I went walking through the wood

One lovely summer morn,

A creature of such beauty stood

As ever shaped or born.

Above her waist, a youthful girl 

Of very pleasing shape

Auburn hair of endless curl

What billowed, like a cape.

Slender, but with lovely curve

And graceful, gentle poise;

So perfect, I near lost my nerve

But daren't make a noise.

Those eyes -- wide set and brilliant,

A striking azure blue,

So curious and innocent

Yet sharply cautious, too.

Rich redwood lips, so full and sweet,

A lovely cupid's bow;

Subtle nose, her chin discreet,

And slender neck below. 

Her heaving breasts, full and unbound,
were bountiful and pert,

At that, my focus came unwound,

My lusts on full alert. 

But underneath her slender waist

Her hips and legs were gone,

Instead, what filled the lower space:

The body of a fawn. 

Where belly button should have knotted,

Her torso tapered down,

Darkened to a fur (white spotted)

Of lovely reddish- brown.

Perhaps she felt I'd make pursuit

Like Ahab and his whale,

Her sharp eyes found an exit route;

She ran, with shake of tail.

I never saw the fawn

Since the morn she ran away,

But when I walk just after dawn,

I hope she'll come to play.

----

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

The Dark Goddess - 4

I've been shot, stabbed, beaten to shit and run over. That was a fun day. My body's a wasteland of scar tissue over layers of muscles so thick I don't even feel pain until bones start breaking. 

Having said that, I'm lying here almost out of blood, and I'm covered in bellboy carcass. 

The darkness bubbles up from the bottom of my psyche. 'Do it,' it whispers, 'it's the only way out, and we both know it, man just do it do it now DO IT NOW YOU FUCKING COWARD--'

I will not listen. I will not give in. I am not a monster. I look around for a clock. Norhing. The window faces east, and the sun's just coming up. The cleaning lady will come soon. She'll see the mess, and I'll tell her I need help. She'll get the cops and an ambulance in here, and I'll be fine. Cops probably won't even book me for it, but it don't look good at all. Then again, I'll live.  

'Or,' the darkness whispers, 'she doesn't speak a word of English, she screams, runs out of here screeching, leaves the door open, and attracts every other meathead in the place. Think about it, Joey.' I think of anything else. 'Here's a better idea, buddy.' I will not listen. 'Do what you know you have to do, and let's go get some waffles, man.' No. Not even for a second. I will not. I am a man, goddamm-- 

'JOE.' The thunder of my name obliterates every other thought in my head. It's my voice, but angrier. Seething.  'QUIT BEING A MORON. USE YOUR ENVIRONMENT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE. YOU KNOW THAT. WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME, SO QUIT BEING A PUSSY AND GET IT DONE.'

It's no use. I have no choice. My eyes drift closed a moment, and my voice breaks the silence. "You get 10 seconds. That's it." My body relaxes, and I feel the darkness bubble through me like acid reflux. I don't fight it. In my head, I start counting. 

One. I can feel the rush of blood through my body as every drop redirects itself to the nearest opening it can find. My heart panics, thumping the inside of my chest like a pissed off gorilla in a cage. 

Two. All of my skin seems to strech as perforations begin to appear, opening like hundreds of tiny, hungry mouths...

Three. Every ounce of the bellboy's blood, and every other available bodily fluid is sucked right off the corpse. Four. I will not watch, but I have watched a man shrivel like that. It's not pretty. Five. The pain of this is indescribable. The mouths widen ever further, sprouting row upon row of needle-like teeth that tear through my flesh and begin to gnash. Six. 

My mind is screaming at me not to lose control. Seven. The pulpy, crunching noises as they break down the rest of the bellboy is maddening. Eight. Nothing is wasted: bones, hair, teeth, fingernails. My body devours it all. 

Nine. My wounds are closing, and strength floods through me as my heart normalizes, and my breathing calms, but it's not enough. I need more. We'll straighten up, wait for the cleaning lady, eat her too, and then maybe we'll call downstairs and get Sphincter up here so we can tear that pencil-neck's fuckin' head off and then--'

Nine and a half. Get the hell back down there. 'Hey man c'mon you love the feeling of it and we both--'

Nine and three quarters. Get your ass out of here, or the first thing I will do when I can get up is use my shaver to cut my own throat. 

...

Ten. 

I get up, head toward the bathroom, and take a look at the damage. Not too bad. I'll have to ditch the clothes, though. 

A knock at the door and my guts drop to my knees. " Servicio de habitaciones, Señor?" It takes a minute to focus. 

'I told you,' the darkness hisses. 

"Uh... One minute, lady." I grab everything I can and head for the balcony, hoping there's a fire escape. 

Nope. Three story fall, straight to the sidewalk. 

I'll live. 

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.

2015-07-17: Book Update

Good day all,

Before I tackle 'Don't Forget Me' today, I wanted to let everyone know that the new book is almost ready for print. I'll be ordering the proof copy this weekend, which should be here by this time next week. 

Entitled "Passion's Echoes", this collection includes 168 pages of original odes, ballads, sonnets and even some long-form prose. Four signed copies have yet to be claimed (see the drop-down list on the right to place an order), so if you don't have one yet, now's your chance. 

That's all for now, loves. Poetry is forthcoming. 

- Jack

Salutations

Wouldst thou have me pen for thee

A sonnet, or an ode,

Composed of words so sensuous,

To make thy lusts explode?

Wouldst thou hear my serenade,

And feel the thrums within,

Thine inner heat's ascension, 

And thy patience weareth thin?

Wouldst thou, in thy fantasy 

Thine own desires explore,

And find within the poet's words

The keys to even more?

Wouldst thou of me take control

And bend me to thy will, 

Or wouldst thou at my word relent

And my desires fulfill?

Wouldst thou not become the muse

From whence my passions spring?

The finest verses would I craft--

Oh, how thy heart would sing!

----

- Jack