devil

From February of last year …

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February 24, 2024

A year or so ago an old WVU friend, Rob, posted on Facebook a little minute of him just pluckin’ away on guitar, a quick instrumental, and, on hearing it, I thought “Heck, I could, should, write a few words to this” So I did. Came out kinda nice. It was short, just that minute or so and he approved of my take. It was pretty cool.

Step Out (an Eldridge tune)

Then recently he posted, again, another instrumental, pluck pluck pluck, very bluesy just as with the first one. This one though was 3 minutes and change and I thought well, I could do this again, just with a little more time to work with.

And with it being the bluesy thing that it was I thought “Well, the devil just might be involved as the devil, he’s all about the blues”

So another take then on another Rob thing.

Standin’ At The Edge Of The World (the devil & me)

Found myself standin’ at the edge of the world

The devil at my side asking what I had heard

I said about what are you just asking in jest?

He said no mortal son just checkin’ if you’d kept a-breast

Of what it was that I had goin’ on

Singing off key songs of a world at unrest

I said I did but that I didn’t despair

That there was still some hope yet … be found in the air

He said but seeing devil’s work just why would you care

And why do you assume it’s me who leads to despair

I said cause you’re the devil and the devil may care

And seems you do with me at the edge of the world

Well, it looks like I’ve more work to be done

To convince you all to just cut and run

Away from hope’s promise and flowery songs

Don’t stack up with reality and what I’ve made wrong

But I said you still ask your questions now

About your own song and the stories you’ve wrung

I still find a world where people stand up

To those casting dark days and forcing in darker ways till you empty your half cup

To not give in to singing of a dire world’s long

Gone hoping pay no mind to your evil tongue

You are the devil after all your words may be strong

But there’s still some time … for us … to all get along

And fight you real world devils and sing different tomes

And maybe make you realize you’ll be left all alone

And any who’ve abandoned promise of pretty songs

That say we’ll right whatever you’ve done so so wrong

The devil left my side then

His songs at a loss

And I stood alone now at the edge of the world

Part One: A Cardiff Production: Working Title “Nether Gate”

Part Two: “Nether Gate Part II”

Robin looked up and winced in the sun at a Devil while trying to breathe … and he felt a bit loopy too, feeling as if you’ve been dropped from an airplane’ll surely do that to ya “the Devil!?! Oh, hello Mr Devil, how are you, my name is … Holy crap, the Devil?!!” … he was sure he had found himself in Hell though his head hurt and he still couldn’t breathe so Devils would just have to wait.

He was tall and had horns …

“We have to go”

… unnaturally tall, and stood on hooves at least what seemed like hooves … and he was wearing a floppy hat with pointy parts …

“We have to go!!”

… oh, that’s nice, whooo, what a relief, it’s just a floppy hat with pointy parts he thought, not horns, just backlit as his new attempted focus, focused, backlit from a red sun, two of them actually …

“OK!! WE HAVE TO GO!!!”

… and before Robin knew it he was under an arm and being carried like a sack of flour after market “Hey, were there two red suns there?” he thought while bounding, bouncing under an arm “that’s new”

it was fast, faster than anything Robin had ever been a part of where fast was concerned, there was a blur of moors and dales and then trees until he was thrown in a ditch … but a ditch with a hole

“Go in there and cover yourself with the dirt and leaves and moss and branches, whatever is at hand” and then this tall devil with the floppy pointy hat and hooved feet ran left and and then right while making sounds that seemed like trumpets.

Robin did as he was told, with no fucking clue why, though the dirt of this hole was soft and warm and comforting but as he covered himself in it, with leaves and moss and branches and anything he could find, as he was told, he was sure he felt and then heard in this earth of his hiding, horses … a lot of them. A horse load of horses.

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“Seriously guys, where the fuck is Robin?”

Paarta, aka Tom … “I don’t know, what am I, some sage?”

“Yes you are Paarta”

“But I’m not Paarta, I’m Tom! Get out of character will ya Barry?” and then he suddenly shot, stumbled back from the arch flat on his back like he had been kicked, kicked hard

“Oh, what the fuck?!”

“You Ok Tom?” said Chunk “And what’s that on your forehead?”

“What’s what?”

“it looks like a clod of grass and dirt”

Tom sat, stunned “It was a hoof, I think I was just kicked by a hoof”

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Catherine said “What is it about the food truck?”

“Other than it has coffee and bagels?”

“No Penny, why do the boys always escape there? Some weird shit just happened and the first thing they do is run to the food truck?”

“’cause it has coffee and bagels … for free?”

“!!!!???!!!”

“I’m just kidding. I don’t know, what do you want me to say?”