'Self-Destructive Love Poems for the Sanely Challenged' - A Q & A Session

My debut poetry anthology, Self-Destructive Love Poems for the Sanely Challenged, is out now. I had an idea of maybe discussing the anthology and some of its' concepts, so I asked readers and writers on the brilliant forum vanessafinaughtybooks.co.za/ to pose some questions to me. I told them to ask me anything about the process of writing the anthology, opinions and views, and even a little bit about where some of my inspiration came from.

Here are the questions, and the answers, in three parts!

You can purchase the anthology right here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/232615#download

 

PART ONE

 

PART TWO

 

 

PART THREE

 

 

 

 

I Love You - A Poem

A challenge set by Bernadette ( http://bernadette-davies.blogspot.co.uk/ ) to write something 'warm and fuzzy'. This was the best I could do.

I thought I was a lost soul

Drifting down the River Styx,

With pennies placed upon my eyes,

And hands bound tight with garlic.

But before I reach Charon,

A whisper intervenes.

A voice from far away,

Intangible, like a dream.

Not just the voice of an Angel,

A dream that I can wake from.

I know you're really out there somewhere,

My Love, My Soul Mate, The One.

I tear away the garlic,

And throw the pennies from my eyes.

I change the destination -

"To Hell with Hades!" I cry.

I leave the Underworld behind,

Alive, ecstatic, invigorated.

Emerging out a brand new man -

My heart, of course, reanimated.

And then I see you standing there,

Waiting in an evergreen field.

Blossoming like a purple rose -

My soul has now been healed.

We hug, and my mind explodes,

Erupting with euphoric bliss!

And how my stomach swirls with glee

When, at last, we kiss.

Rainbows in my bright blue eyes,

The sun as radiant as I feel.

Me and you, together in Eden,

Knowing our fate is sealed.

You rescued me from torment,

And proved that you are true.

All I have to say is this,

My Rose - "I Love You."

 © Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012 

I Am The Snake - A Poem

Take a bite out of the apple, Baby, they're really good for you!

 

I slide into your garden

And lurk behind the trees,

Watching each and every one of you,

As you laugh and joke and tease.

So happy are you all,

In this evergreen Eden,

Living life to the full,

And enjoying your freedom.

But it's a freedom so white,

So plain and without depth.

No layers to your happiness,

Just a superficial mess.

I'll offer shade to your party,

Some truth, some lies, some sting.

A dash of black to drain away

The joy from everything.

A single touch from me

And you're caught within my grasp.

My venom surges through your veins

Like the poison of an Asp.

Take a bite out of the apple,

They're really good for you!

I'm offering this fruit to take,

So decide what you're gonna do.

Take this apple from my hands,

Bite the tender skin.

Then let me lead you from the garden

Into a world of Sin.

 © Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012 

Whatever Happened To....? - A Poem

Am I a shadow or a man?
A whisper in the night?

A black hole or a star?
A legend on a plight?

Do you know who I am,

Better than I know myself?

Do you have all the answers,

To help prise me from this Hell?

Do I live on when I'm not there,

On your lips or in your dreams?
Or do I not exist at all,

Once I leave you life-stream?

Am I as noble as you say I am,

Or am I just a fraud?

Am I bitter, weak, and empty,

Or 'The Evil OverLord'?

Does my make-up make me,

Or just help to create me?

Black pits around my bright blue eyes -

Do they reveal the fake me?

Do I really choose to just wear black,

Or has black chosen to wear me?

Will I ever find true happiness,

Or drown in melancholy?

Questions all, but answers none,

As vacant as a dying sun

That once burned brighter than the rest

But now is fading into the past...

Will they speak my name in years to come,

Discussing my life story?

Or will they sit beside a fire,

Asking, "Whatever happened to Cory?"

© Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012 

LISTEN TO THIS

 

Alice Cooper. The original monster of rock, who brought the music he made to life on stage. Make-up, blood, murders, straight-jackets, guillotines....he did it all first! Indeed, the guillotine remains the most infamous part of his show, as he's decapitated before his dismembered head is tossed around the stage like a ball.

My favourite part of the Cooper show, though, has always been the straight-jacket. Strapped into it, Alice sings 'The Ballad of Dwight Fry', rocking backwards and forwards in his restraining outfit. During the Theatre of Death tour, he was also hung in the straight-jacket! Now THAT must have been tricky to put together.

Anyhow, here are two videos of Alice (one from his alcoholic days, where he was unpredictable and dangerous on stage, and one from one of his more recent shows) performing '...Dwight Fry' in all its' insane glory. 

The Pain I Feel Makes Me Love You Even More (You Be The Rose, I'll Be The Shade) - A Poem

Sprawled out in the sun

Like a pretty little coffin

(With dainty purple roses

Painted on the sides),

You wait for me to dig a hole

Six foot deep and six foot wide,

Where we can lie forever -

As the rest of the world goes by.

But my fingers can't grace

Your furnished, well-kept surface -

Death just out of reach,

My willing burial denied.

I ache from trying to touch you -

A futile attempt at an impossible connection.

And yet somewhere in this shade of grey,

Must lurk an answer to my pain.

Indeed, I shan't rest until I've stolen

All the colour from your eyes,

Like you stole the love from my heart.

I can't let you go alone -

To lie, solitary, my Purple Rose,

Without this Black Shade to veil you.

And I can't let you make me cry,

Because beneath my make-up

Is nothing, nothing at all.

There's only one way

To drive this Shadow from my soul -

Me and you together,

Buried, and whole.

© Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012 

A Coffin Couldn't Hold Me - A Poem

Struck down before my prime,

Dragged out from the shadows.

Bound in chains of silver

And hung at the gallows.

They said that went I died

Rivers ran red with blood,

And mighty forests burned -

Flames devouring the wood.

 Buried, six-feet under,

Inside a nameless tomb,

Waiting for salvation

To free me from this doom.

It came in virgin form,

A girl of sixteen years.

She opened up my grave

Unleashing one so feared.

The chains of silver break,

My fangs, they seize her neck.

I drink her gushing blood -

It runs down my bare chest.

Then I gaze up at the moon,

The only friend I have.

Always there to watch me,

To guide me on my path.

So I run through the night,

Naked, bloodstained, raging.

Searching, stalking, hunting

Those who tried to stop me.

The fools should have realised -

They should have come to see -

That there's not a coffin,

Out there that could hold me...

© Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012

Can You See Me Now? - A Poem

 

Life churns noisily around me

Like an unstoppable Vortex -

And I am trapped in the centre,

Ignored, Unwanted, Invisible.

Laughter springs joyously

From the mouths of my tormentors,

As they walk right over me

Like I'm a long-forgotten grave.

Shaking, simmering, seething

I can do nothing but wait

'til my mind blows and shatters,

And my eyes blaze Hellish red.

Give me a gun, give me a knife,

It's time for me to end your life.

I step out of the heart

And into the hurricane,

Disturbing the flow

That you have created.

Dead eyes gaze back at me -

A mass of unfeeling zombies

Trying to make some sort of sense

Of what I'm about to do.

I was never so bad,

Would never hurt anyone...

But you pushed me,

Shoved me over the edge.

I have a gun,

I have a knife.

It's time for me

To end your life.

Hell burns through my veins, and how!

Listen up people, can you see me now?

© Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012

Scarred But Still Standing - A Poem

"Scarred But Still Standing" has pretty much become a motto for me. It's a way of saying, "Yes, I've suffered, but I'm still here. I haven't given up. I'm still alive, against all odds!".

Twisting, writhing rage

Burns like acid through it's veins,

And a stabbing agony in it's heart,

Gets worse each passing day.

Ev'ry insult taken,

Stings deep down inside.

Ev'ry kick or punch,

Brings bitter tears to its' eyes.

Born in cold October,

Destroyed, age 13 onwards.

Reborn five years later,
As a heartless, damaged monster.

Black becomes it's symbol,

'Evil' – an adopted name.

Never forgetting those who caused

Such thoughtless, searing pain.

But Time has healed much,

A new Era can begin.

I can smile once again:

“Scarred, but still standing.”

© Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012

Dark Things 1 - A Poem

Just a little work-in-progress...Let me know what you think. Always after critique!

Dark Things 1

Lying on a bed of black roses,

Arms crossed,

And pennies over my eyes,

I wait.

Wait for the pumpkin sun

To fade behind the skull moon.

Shadows grow longer

(Like the ones inside my mind)

And stretch to nothing -

Swallowed, eventually,

By the impenetrable darkness.

The Darkness, my one true friend -

Hiding, in that fathomless black,

All manner of secrets,

All manner of Things.

Things that creep around my bed,

Lurk in my closet,

Writhe in the furthest recesses of my mind...

Maybe They know

That we are the same.

Maybe They sense

That I am unafraid.

An abrupt stinging pain in my heart

Suddenly grows more fierce -

Like a talon squeezing

All the life out of me,

And In my agony, I am forced to wonder:

Do They want me to join them?

 ©
Copyright: Cory Eadson, 2012

Once Upon A Time...

Once Upon A Time...

Once upon a time,
In a land so far away,
Lived a gorgeous little beauty,
Who smiled every day.

She smiled as she sang,
She smiled as she ate.
She smiled as she ripped,
Her brother’s face off with a rake.

Never did her smile falter,
As blood gushed everywhere.
She was glad to see the bastard dead,
For he’d brought her to despair.

When she was put on trial,
She grinned the whole way through.
Asked if she thought she’d reoffend,
She said, “My Lord, I do!”

Death was her swift sentence,
By hanging, as it were.
She did her hair and make-up,
So her corpse would swing with verve.

And swing it did for minutes,
A cold but pretty stiff.
The guards were so aroused,
They thought they’d have a bit.

By now she was in Hell,
Burning for all time.
But the little bitch still smiled,
As the Devil said, “You’re mine!”

Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012