Keys Lost (At the Doors of Perception)

Of my first disobedience, and th’ fruit

serv’d whence the news is read, feeding

to yon children cathode ray sustenance,

th’ unborn made dead and th’ dead living.

To these disenfranchis’d legions mine voyce

didst ring out, declaring that Thine

devine sword hadst struck mine helmet’s head,

rendering Thine favor’d servant no more than

an unknown soldier, for whom the eternal

flame burnst…O, th’ burn! Yea, knowst we well

th’ ancient lake of fire, and its serpent

measuring in length three plus four miles,

for we hath lost Thine affection, and now

wallow in this funeral pyre of Thy love.

It wouldst be untrue, I proclaim’d to th’ fall’n

brothers, verily I wouldst be a lyar, if I were

to profess we could rise no high’r!

And thus the fire lit ignites th’ benight’d spirit,

not unlike dawn, and as th’ killer let us put

on our boots, all the better to creep forth from

this ancient gallery of mirrors shatter’d, waiting

for th’ sun. At Eden’s first flash we shall surge

forward to freedom’s scoarch’d shoar; for although

Your love hath been mad’st to wrath, mine own

shall continue until Heaven ceases to loose

th’ rain. Rebuke me not as one wretched, perceave me

not as wicked for this desire to return. It was Ye

who abandoned me to linger in th’ strangest

afterlife I hath ever known.

To th’ fall’n cherube sayst I: th’ old grow weak,

whilst th’ young gain strength and vigour for battel!

He doth possess th’ divine sword, but to us belong

th’ numbers! From this hideous Gulfe let shadows

of th’ voyd crawl across th’ years; with His light

by warr dimm’d shall Our night divide His day. His

power we shall defy to maketh th’ Queen of th’ Angels

sigh a bloody last gasp, as we orepow’r and break

through Heaven’s Gates—break on through to th’ other

side. From Your love Mankind is born; from Ours is

th’ carkass of deicide.

The Story Behind the Poem

The late speculative poetry editor and writer, Stephen M. Wilson, contacted me during the process of putting together a poetry anthology. He wanted pastiches that were mashups of disparate styles and writers. Stephen was the one who got the ball rolling for my Stoker Award nomination (The Troublesome Amputee, 2006) while also nominating one of my poems for the Dwarf Stars Award, and had numerous accomplishments in the field, so I was eager to work with him.

In terms of looking to the past for inspiration I immediately thought of Paradise Lost by John Milton. There was plenty of imagery to work with there, which made it easy to move on to the next step. When looking for contemporary inspiration what leapt to mind as an unlikely choice for other authors to claim was the work of Jim Morrison, vocalist and lyricist for The Doors.

Doors of perception…

Paradise Lost…

They fit together instantly, at least in my mind. The result is the above poem. Unfortunately the anthology never happened. I suspect this was a result of Stephen's deteriorating health. Eventually, after his passing, I republished my second poetry collection The Horrible with bonus material including "Keys Lost (at the Doors of Perception).

Learning to work within the conventions of Milton's work was fun, but difficult. The alternate spellings, strange capitalization, and unpredictable contraction rules really threw me. Hopefully the resulting interpretation of Morrison's lyrics was entertaining.

You can read the interview Stephen conducted with me for Doorways Magazine at https://speceditor666.livejournal.com/8159.html

The Horrible can be purchased in Kindle format at Amazon.

Kicking Against the Pricks, the only solo collection by Stephen M. Wilson, can be purchased through your local independent bookseller, or in Kindle format.

As for the photo accompanying this work: I took that picture in Chicago's Chinatown. It's a vibrant and welcoming community filled with plenty to see and do. While there I stayed at and recommend the Jaslin Hotel.

Help Others

Did you know that in addition to being a co-founder of Raw Dog Screaming Press, and its various imprints — Dog Star Books, Guide Dog Books, Imaginary Books, and Anti-Oedipus Press — I'm also vice president of Diverse Writers and Artists of Speculative Fiction, and manager of Broadkill Writers Resort?

In my work as an editor of anthologies, editor-in-chief of The Dream People, and chief administrative officer of Raw Dog Screaming, I've helped hundreds of authors and artists find a path to publication, reach their audience, and move on to the next level in their careers.

With DWASF I've spent the last few years promoting diversity in science fiction, fantasy, and horror publishing through community outreach efforts and by leading workshops.

Speaking of workshops, on top of the workshops I do at universities and conventions and stores and libraries, I've been facilitating workshops and writing retreats on Delaware Bay at the Broadkill Writers Resort since January 2016.

In short: I've spent the last 20 years helping artists outside the mainstream directly and generally working to cultivate a publishing scene where new or different creators can thrive.

Team up with me to assist others by contributing here with a tip, by checking out https://johnlawson.org/ for links to products and services I'm affiliated with, or just as importantly by sharing this page with people who would be interested in reading it. Thank you!