A Personal Epic
by Percy L. Paul
Fortnight per sunshine,
Grendel was gracious,
Untamed reluctance
in the lounge of smiles.
Scribed; Night Falls Fast, Jamison.
Depict mixed state of meek,
both down and up.
Percival's battle with four great beasts.
Anxiety, tension, palpitation,
nausea, diarrhea, restlessness,
headaches, when ceased.
third element transformed too great,
more serious injury will appear.
Nausea may become more severe
Sword injury there may be vomitus,
diarrhea,
sluggishness,
dizziness,
muscle shakes, and heart gone wrong.
Days of fleeing burdened my being.
Essentially, a vision of my father, My God
and his Lucifer, "bringer of light beer,"
the battle episode did occur
and involves loss of contact with reality,
So many men, of braver bearing,
loss of reality testing.
Percival be the Son of Jon.
My field of today of battle,
against thy foe, great Lore,
Percival swiftly bestow upon thee
the great and righteous struggle
The beast with two and three fire breathing heads.
Of endless pain? where there is then no good?
One; down and up,
Two; the other, of people, gods and the emot
Puff was frolicking in the mist and hided.
Of that Forbidden three, whose mortal taste
Brought Death into the World, and all our woe.
My fight against the Throne and Monarchy of God.
The great wizard, of royalty,
lay before me the swift swords. Made,
of third ionic element.
The clothes made of finest textiles,
a shield with metals to hold me up.
My heart proud.
Dulling my happiness.
My armoury my army,
stare upon the open field of Limbo,
Pride, the Affliction and woesome loss.
one head being attacked with great power.
bellowing Victory as the other two from
behind breathe fiery vengeance up my stallion.
Shrieked it did before collapsing
upon the ground of my blooded.
Lay in the waste thousands of my army.
The throne and godly smile of the two.
In the Fire of Water of God's bath.
He laughed at my defeat.
Percival swift with other men retreat
at my defeat. God, Two, from afar taunts and torments
my poor, and pathetic men of army.
Helpless souls dying against God, Two.
The throne, sends the angels to the fields of limbo
and to God's Pandemonium and his demons.
Devouring my men with his joyous three heads.
"Retreat, Retreat, my poor men." I bellow.
Received counsel from my fellow humans,
chemist and wizards.
They laugh and hiss at my valiant attempt
against the three headed god.
"Don't laugh at my meek friend, Percival,"
spoke Satan, "his people need to be rescued
from the muse of Lorelei of God."
Continued, from upon his smile,
"Better to reign in Hell,
than serve in Heav'n.
Serve God's Alcohol, that is.
Hell is merely sobriety.
It don't matter what they try
They'll never stop the brew
Because a man will take a glass
To make his spirits fly
On a friday night
It's party night for you.
But where let us then our faithful friends,
In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
Regained in Heaven, or what more lost in Hell?"
Lorelei of the two headed beast
of burden, with her temptation.
with an ass like that.
"Come to the bar, my friend.
come come come."
Whiskey the water of life.
The Gaelic brewer growing up in tennessee.
You boy from the south sent north to arm
God in heaven's bar with lethal weapons
for the thy underlings to be godful
of godful delight. Harder times messenger said to the Father
in heaven. Satan's messenger to God that he best suit God
to have guard of the precious Liquor.
Saddle up boys, and call up the mission
A hundred strong in the providence hall.
Damn that Demon Alcohol belched the lord and saviour.
You better pray boys, as water became miracle wine.
Jesus, lay passed out at his father's door
with his drinking buddies asleep on
the steps of twelve.
Percival, the mighty warrior with Quixote
Grateful vicissitude, like Up and Down;
and ricosante and dulcinea. Armoured with bullet's
of the steps of twelve and thought to kill a case of twelve.
And celebrated on fruitbats and orangutans
Ciamar a ni mi dannsa direach.
Danse Direache, 'S e togairt dol a dhannsa.
Gaelic, Shaemus yelped upon thy bar,
"The intestine war in heaven be great when prepared.
Or turn this Hell itself into the Heaven."
Percival and Satan at the empty bar scheming
for the conquer of heaven's bar and lorelei's
sweet ass. The sword of Satan with steep force to smite.
Percival's sword ready for battle.
God's lake of heaven and fruitful Lorelei's bikini
on the beach with commercials of sex potential.
Abdiel called Satan and Percival a fool
not to recognize that it is useless to
fight against God's omnipotence
alcohol.
Insanity is twice, thrice, etc doing the same thing
to fight God's happy lake of firewater.
Percival sat at the empty barstool.
Mr.Tambourine man playing a song for him.
Relinquish in the happy thoughts of losing against
the lord's their god's happy heaven of Booze
Looking at the ancient empty street which was
too dead for dreaming.
Magic swirling ship and Lucifer in the diamondy
skies. Horses smacking the faces of Satan.
The battle against heaven's bar failed
when Michael, the arse-angel walked in on behalf
of God's order the first round.
Satan, surprised greatly by a thought.
Yelled upon the great Percival and pronounces.
"Adam and Eve and the beer of stupidity!"
"What da fucketh upon thee speeketh you
krooked hattet fool?"
"Beer of stupidity and humans"
Distract God and Michael, and attack the demon with
God's creation as its own armoury."
Brilliant and wand'ring Fire. Ignis fatuus, Abdiel again.
Upon him Percival, "Fuketh unto thou."
The great battle against God's fiery
horny dragon of light and water of life.
Attacked two visible head defeateth swiftly.
The victorious and gleeful Percival
Sober in the thought he
Vain War with Heaven, and by success untaught
His proud imaginations thus displayed.
Immortal vigor and beloved
in Hell's sobriety.
'tis better to be sober in Hell
and served beer in Heaven.
First Moloch, horrid God besmeared with blood
Of human sacrifice, and parents tears,
Though for the noise of Drums and Timbrels loud
Their children's cries unheard, that past through fire
To his grim alcohol.
I stare long last into
the last great thirsty head of the God's
Demon. My army stupid again and lost the battle
in Heaven's forgetful Lake. El Purgatorio.
Chained on the burning Lake of booz.
Unhappy in God's lovely lake.
God is death.
volume 9(6)
This poem is copyright © 2005, Percy L.
Paul, all rights reserved.
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