I use to have nothingness inside voided out from my enter guide deaf dumb and blind going through life on borrowed time. Traveling alone the same roads of love one’s living up to their expectations and spiritual motivations  because they said it was true. But who knew from feeling the void I can practice a voice of my own that I didn’t practice even tho I was grown I felt so empty being exposed to other people’s life sometimes temped me to say fuck it I’m going to do as I please and then the old folks tell me I need to get on my knees and talk to a man who didn’t look like me I’m so empty as time pasts I didn’t have the faith I use to have but I was still empty from all the bullshit they sent me damn do I even know who I am the more they told me to pray the more I would stray I’m so glad I did. never have a choice as a kid. but it was something down deep in the inside  that told me let me be my guide  and ever since then I’ve been feeling the void excavating the truth from a mountain of lies now my eyes have seen that which was hidden because I’m traveling the roads that was forbidden. along this path you would never have the friends you though you had because there back is against you. your family would never be the same when the slave maters the blame he took it  all including your name and tamed you with his religion  regardless of your decision  but some how speak about his god and all of the love he say he has but freely took his whip and beat your ass damn. I start thinking how ignorant it would be to sit next to the devils pulpit and pat my feet not me I’m feeling the void everything that was implanted in me is now destroyed.                                             Amon  Blackstone


I feel the warmth from the blacken sun shining upon me

With its obsidian rays blazing through my entire being

Leaving soot like that of a charcoal ashtray

The winds here are visible black like clouds that encamp around me

Meaning to bound me in a trans like state

Hypnotized by these remarkable outlines

Events occur like classical cinemas of black and white

Before my very eyes as the nights here never turns into days

Some how I learned to love the rays from this blackened sun

The rivers here are black as oil with shimmery glazes

And the daemons that roam here is those of my own

Seeking union and manifestation in the world of light thats outside me

My eyes now are like darken shades

So I’m guided by black non-luminous rays

To my promise lands of the unknown

The stars here are invisible

And the known world today is no longer livable

For the feeble mind.    

Amon Blackstone


Oh eyes haven’t seen  the luminosity of  our enter stars  the galactic byways and lonely dark highways of distance blackness with the absence of guided light the existences of hopeless entities circling through out time and space for I have seen the glare from on top of the mountain I have drunken from celestial  fountains  and became aware of  this shadow world. In it I must  suppress my earthly scent and life force or be devoured in the mist of the boneless one’s for I have traveled to the place of my transcendence an on earths plain I have spilled the blood that runs through my very veins vigorously illuminated my serpents our now elongated up my spine placing their fangs in my fertile mind transforming me from conscious to super conscious divine. Now I sense a presence inside of my presence urging me to stick my left hand inside of its hand. Taking me to the land of no illusions where I hear legions saying you do not fear us, come near us  you have appeased and effortlessly seen through the curtains of the transparent worlds you have been reanimated many times illuminated. To do great things for you sing praises of thy self. In and out of portals of life and death  the cosmos exist in the innards of our flesh from our cerebral cortexes  to the deepest depths of our solar plexus as above so as below. for I traveled through multidimensional realms of ascension gaining knowledge from multiple  copies of myself which in turn manifested magical  Sigils. I am ILLUMINATED……..Amon Blackstone


I see multiple silhouette’s of the Discarnate encamped around me trying to gain my attention like a stranded motorist alone in the dark I can hear the muffled screams saying the necromancer is in and ready to hear us they come to me because most of the living population fear us words that they wish they had said to long lost love ones some don’t even no there gone but they come bearing there secrets that they took to there graves some ill mannered and some well behaved. The night has come and outside of my window pane theres a dark moon and stormy rain but I am fearless in the presence of many  I could turn a deaf ear an ignore them if they don’t abide by my creed so then they get fluster and leave. The one’s with manners they take there turns and speak with great reverence telling me things that which is hidden sometimes from centuries pasted they are attracted to me like fly’s on a dead piece of rotting flesh a necromancer is all ways closer to death. So when i’m out and about they follow me all ways ready to speak so I never really ever sleep. In my world there are portals and other dimensions beyond the comprehension of mundane folk. The life of a necromancer  

THE PALACE………………………..

oh hear ye oh hear ye from the shiny glimmering  walls of my inter palace countless boxes of memories from eons of existence displaced thoughts on tapestry decadent rails of granite elongated around twisted highways of staircases  photons of luminous light enclaved by a trajectory of my own imagination  faint phantoms whispering at my presence around every corner is a place unexplored .infinite literary works surround me from many travels of my past days next to it is and elaborated collection of knowledge gained and knowledge still to come through one of the doors is my garden a vast labyrinth of vegetation in it is thousands of rare wild orchids that spawn there own very intelligence they sometime speak to me in reverence to the awe of creation with there subtle tones I take refuge in knowing with these ears I am like that of a deaf man but my ears is not ears of a man but the renaissance of astral sensory my nostrils our no longer in use for I breath through my very skin my eyes our no use to me for I see all of the lure of this imaginary  illusion for what it is and what will be. Matter and anti matter canceling out the greater for the greater good in my palace I have seen many wonders some frighting an some so remarkably liberating and intriguing  similar to flickering lights demons of past aggressions so vividly in clear so I clean out all of my deepest darkest closets so the filtiness disperse and trouble me no more in the upper rooms are my contemplations of intellectual views of topics beyond the physical realm with questions who do they say I am? answers seems to echo back to me as if I was trapped in the innards of the Tibetan mountains tens of thousands of feet below surface. in one of my rooms there is a lama who teaches me  esoteric teachings inside the door inside of the door theres a monastery carved from the face of great rock running next to it is a lifted ocean levitated in thin air that represent my limitless pools of desire often I’m tempted to stay in this place engulfed in its many secrets practices and theories and the guidance through untold dimensions. For now I must leave this place knowing I can return in light speed on the bi-ways of mental lay lines……………..D.D. Kirkland

By perfectblack Posted in Awake

Conversation with shadow self!

Heavy eyes drifting into the shadows of the back of my eyelids crickets singing in the distance fearful of sleeping I stare at my walls listening to the sounds of everyone else sleeping unsettled mind with decorative imagery of me meeting the shadow that follow me is this real or is it my schizophrenic self. last night I had a visitor. But with all reasoning logic I was by myself pondering with this I increased my regiments of meditation hoping to have a conversation with the shadow that visited me that night I meditated for Hours but Hours turned to days and days turned to months until one early morning with the birds chirping before the rise of the sun that shadow came to me and told me its was me in a parallel world just outside of my own he told me he was thirty-one years of age and I was fourteen the last time he visited me at my home  He taught me all of his secrets that morning he told me what I would best in doing to make a living he said he knew because he was me and with him I could avoid pitfalls in life. He said he was also a writer he asked did I ever wonder why I love to write and I told him yes and then he told all of the gifts he I had now magnified 1000 times

By perfectblack Posted in Awake

Better Days to come by…..


this is some inspiration for those of you who might feel down and out or maybe even hopeless it’s better Days to come by my friends……perfectblack your friend in poetry

Originally posted on Perfect Black:

you have better days to come by even if shadow clouds hang low better days to come by even if you’re the topic of everyone’s conversation still keep your head on high even if no one’s with you.you still have better days to come by when your feeling low and blue look in the mirror and say your starting a new everything new friends new money even if they laugh at all your idea’s and tell you it want work  just smile at them because it’s better days to come by only if you knew the sun is about to shine so bright for you  because your like water everything passes through when they look at you all they can see is that beam of light shinning so bright on you they don’t want to admit it but they thinking to they self he or she is going to be…

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By perfectblack Posted in Awake

The chaos code……..

why is the hold of mankind so parasitic spreading from host to host eating away at purity emptying out the very essences of the light of the world but in chaos and darkness there’s a certain type of beauty that exist. we can not witness evil without good we can not truly know darkness without the ever so shining light. in fact where would we be Without  Chaos. A Destroyed Forrest flourishes after wildfires which in turn births untold beauty in substantial life a purification in the Chaos code. for in this code we can find serenity in troublesome times through a painful metamorphosis where we are rejuvenated  brought up triggered by the chaos code…………D.DKirkland

Sacred self………

troubled sky’s in a  forsaken world of misfits and stormy clouds pined down by this blanket of shadows with a devilishly  grim fate the smirks of under cover enemies staring at me so lifelessly as if they can see my troublesome soul alleys of broken glass comfort me. as if maybe I can hide myself under the black of night commotions startle me  from and upper room the howling screams of someone’s painful fate. As I walk through the alleyways of broken glass I cant help but to think someone is watching me maybe because of the eerie sounds of rusty chains swaying from side to side with every couple of seconds a clink,clink I started to move more rapidly. As my heart beats vigorously I’m now drenched by my on perspiration. fearful of  my own sudden death out of the corners of my eyes I see a figure so vivid  and clear stocking me like late night prey could it be the fifth I Had of that good old Johnny walker playing tricks on me one to many drinks I guess or is this real it  was not up for debate. As I turn the corner and walked through the puddles of muddy waters I remembered my pocket knife and I though I’m going to Kill this mother Fucker. being that I’ve never killed anyone before I shook nervously like a leaf on a tree. joyful for a dark opening I entered and waited to confront my fate. as I Stood there my life flashed before me instantly  I can see all that I’ve done wrong painfully awaken by a harsh reality I can now see myself an arrogant self-centered cheating bastard that’s not even worth the air I breath. And then I heard a splash could this be my last day on this crummy earth with my sweaty palms I held on to the only defense that I  had my lonely pocket knife ready to drive the blade inside of a juggler  I anticipated a bloody fight. footsteps of my would be murderer sounded like they were getting closer to where I stood scared to pieces I boldly peeked An saw nothing but the cold stare of my shadow reflected by and alley light Damn. Could it be that I’m delirious Spooked for all this time by the Demons inside of me In that dark corner I vowed to change my life if I could just get out of this Alive. Many nights I wrestle with my sacred self. knowing that for every action there’s a reaction when it comes to the matter of self knowing this I often live out of a bottle hoping that it could drown my weary sorrows to conquer self and do away with ego in a world of troubled sky’s a storm is coming full of lighting and shadow clouds would I have the strength to travel the alleyways of broken glass to find a place to embrace my holy sacred self out of this rain…………..D.D Kirkland  BE SURE TOO CHECK OUT MY OTHER BLOG ON THE RIGHT THE DD.KIRKLAND THEORY THANKS

Tend to your own backyard….

Better is he that give from his hold heart blindly but not foolishly charity from a giver who thinks less of you and gives out of pity is this charity or just the mindset of the rich. Giving is more than feeling sorry for a person or cause giving is heart-felt and selfless with no respect of persons race religion or creed. How can you give to the rich and shameless and it’s people starving in your own backyard. How can you even talk about humanity or even call yourself a humanitarian on a flight across the world when its little boys and girls in your own backyard. That the community has forgotten about. How can this be the land of the free when everything is taxable before Obama we had money for wars and still couldn’t feed poor why because America couldn’t mind its own business always putting their two cents in and got the nerves to call Israel a friend.that’s just a political mess to send are solders to their deaths all because they could not see it or they just didn’t care what go on in their own backyard. D.D KIrkland