demons – Cajun Mutt Press

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 11/15/23

November 15, 2023 James D. Casey IV

your demons are worth it

it’s Tuesday night
and it’s fast food burgers
and it’s dirty old underwear
and tornado sirens that rip the silence

and it’s a perfect time to talk to your inner demons
let them know they still matter in your life
that you haven’t forgot them
just because you held on to the same job for two years

the little bastards are so insecure
and possessive
humor them
get drunk with them
cuddle with them in your trash dump recliner
and call in tomorrow
use some big wind damage for an excuse
that’s believable enough
and your demons are worth it

rules for living

hear everything but believe nothing
keep your old f250 out of the ditch
water the tomatoes before the sun rises too high in the sky
and never swap the wrecked and rusted carcass
of a ‘67 Camaro that you don’t own
for a used Smith-Corona Super 12 electric typer
and a bus ticket to Clovis N.M.

you got to have rules for living
but you can’t let the power mongers define all the rules

bury your poems in a deep desk drawer
and don’t let them out until they scream and wail
wipe the sweat out of your eyes with a bright colored bandana
ignore all the people that claim they can save you
cherish the few that never tried
they are the true angels of the earth

and when you find that you need to bend your own rules to flourish
remember that the real art lies in the angle of your bend
and the grace with which you apply the torch

words rough as 40grit

you can spit
you can stomp
you can cuss
you can cry
but you were born with swarms of words
entangled deep in your DNA
unruly words
cantankerous words
words rough as 40 grit

you can scream
you can piss blood
you can blame the whores of Babel
but you’ll never pass for normal
and no matter how many sloppy stanzas
you pour down the page
you’ll never make your mother proud

you can howl
you can pray
you can blow the devil in his darkest den
but your fate is your fate
and you’ll stew in your life forever

but you’ll set those words free
or they’ll chew away every pocket of your soul

Preacher Allgood lost his bio in a bet on a game of nine ball. The bastard that won it threw it out his window in the parking lot and a gang of raccoons ran off with it.

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 10/25/23

October 25, 2023 James D. Casey IV

ANOTHER DAY OF DREAD

woke encased in a crusty, cruel
dream hangover which has
gripped me by the dripping guts
I can’t even pretend to stand up
straight, bent with the weight
of what I cannot remember

forgotten demon dreams have
filled my night
leaving me sleepless before dawn
unsettled, dreading the day to come
for no better reason
beyond its threat to be
the same as all the others
nothing worth the effort
except being alive itself,
which reason grows more
tenuous with each day

dreams have killed the night
now they are encamped
on the doorstep of the morning
mustering to ambush the day

M.J. Arcangelini , (b.1952, Pennsylvania) has resided in northern California since 1979. He has been writing poetry since age 11 and has published extensively in both print and online venues & over a dozen anthologies. He is the author of 6 published collections, the most recent of which is PAWNING MY SINS, 2022 (Luchador Press).

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 10/19/22

October 19, 2022 James D. Casey IV

God Carries Demons

say— we are products of the phenomenon supernatural.
we—humans/ evolve from god/ evolved from God
who crafted humans
& angels
& demonic things conjoined into human souls.
Mine wears a mask.
So I can not tell, what shade of pain
It’s complemented my flesh with.
My best friend says her demon comes annually with the face of her jamb score
Jesus
she screamed twice at the smelly café
but that was not enough to exorcise him off her shoulders.
him?
Mother told the priest
_It’s a ‘him’ her demon(s) shape-shifts
to suit the skin of that man that carries her vows on his ring finger, the one I call—
father.
Last night I had seen my neighbor wearing a triangle on his head
& godly beads wrapped around his wrists and neck.
This boy used to be a non believer until an incubus made him scurry back to God’s nest. God?
I guess He carries demons too.
Aren’t we mere reflections of the chromosomes He wears?
Now I know— every heavenly being has the devil’s disciple lurking around their shoulders

Chukwuma Eke Pacella is a seventeen years old poet, a short story writer, an editor, and a feminist that hails from Ihembosi in Anambra State. In 2020, her poem “Anatomy of pain from a boy’s body” emerged as the winning entry for the Cradle poetry contest. It was also shortlisted amongst several others for their issue I, a collection of poems curated by Arts Lounge Magazine. In December 2021, she became a joint winner of the FOW on-the-spot poetry contest and its spoken-word finalist. She is a recipient of the 2022 Nigerian Prize For Teen Authors Award and the First runner-up for the BKPW February/March Edition. Her poems have also been shortlisted for the Medusa anthology, BKPW and BPPC’s “Do Not Die In Their War” April/May Edition. Some of her works have appeared or are forthcoming at Synchronized Chaos, Eunoia Magazine, Poetry Soup, IHRAF, Last Leaves, Haven Spec, Star*line, Cajun Mutt Press, mywovenpoetry, as well as literal anthologies like the Pixie and Pexels and the MyRainbow book poetry collection. She is also a member of the Next Generational Poets and the HillTop Creative Arts Foundation.

Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 07/12/21

July 12, 2021 James D. Casey IV

Send in the Demons

Send in a riot of head-busters
body breakers
mind-fuckers
I yell for them
curse
throw dishes
blow speed limits
nothing happens
no one shows

What’s fiercer than me and yet
it creeps along the sidelines
where I cannot see it
oozes thick and real as the E N D
I want to be filled with
something apocalyptic
I want every tear drop
of Lake Cocytus
I ask the demons to step out
come at me!!

Silence is deafening
demons don’t show
sinning doesn’t awake any
recognition in their dimmed minds
I’m full of madness kissing the Reaper
with Ambien
before bed
who will send the demons in
to thrash my life
epically turn it upside down and burn
an opening into the corners of my mind so
darkened with corruption
even Lucifer would be sick at a glimpse

Donna Dallas studied Creative Writing and Philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School and was lucky enough to study under William Packard, founder and editor of the New York Quarterly. Lately, her work can be found in Horror Sleaze Trash, Beatnik Cowboy and Zombie Logic among many other publications. She recently published a novel, Death Sisters, with Alien Buddha Press. She also currently serves on the editorial team for Red Fez.

Editor’s Note:

“Death Sisters is a wild fucking ride! I highly recomended reading this book.”
—J.D.C.IV