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Poem for the Devil

7/7/08

 

 

When I was innocent...

When I was a child...

You came to me whispering...

Telling lies and invoking the demons

when none would see but me.

They came to me dancing,

and smiling a sharp tooth grin...

From the darkness under the bed,

or in the closet,

or from my mind.

I cried.  I feared you.

And none would see but me.

With my ear to daddy's door...

locked up tight.

If I screamed, would he hear?

No. He would not see you.

He would not protect, just rebuke...

and send me back to your playground

where your whispered your lies

and spoke your heresy...

And your servants materialized before me.

Now.  All grown up...

Mark my words,

for I have marked His.

You are beneath me.

Under my feet...

as a serpent with a crushed head.

Soon.

You will be my footstool.

I will judge you and your demons...

Your wings broken,

you will pound your hateful fists

to the ground strewn with the ashes

of your servants.

I will declare you guilty...

and defeated.

I will wonder,

is this he who deceived the nations?

Then I will turn my back

and forget you...

and isn't that

what

you

fear?

 

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Denizens of Perdition

7/7/08

 

Denizens of Perdition.  Let's see. How can I put this... Denizens of Perdition is an illustrated fantasy book about strangeness.  Strange things we have seen, strange things we think we have seen and strange things that we can't see at all.  I use the word "fantasy" loosly...  It is a word that has been attached to the art and the genre.  To most, it is the stuff of nonsense.  Mere fiction and utter silliness.  Ridiculous notions of childish fears.  Stories to scare children into being good.  But then, to some these grotesque and shadowy characters are all too factual.  They exist... they live and breathe and bleed and eat in a place just outside of our senses.  In a blind spot just to the left of the far side of periforal vision, and very, very real.  Real enough to touch you.  To those few, life is both vision and nightmare, beauty and curse, lightning and fire.  To those, this book will be a chance to pin down and dissect those angry fears that are usually at least an inch or two just out of  kicking distance.  And to the rest of you...  those who choose to believe that when the small hairs at the base of your neck stand on end for seemingly no reason, it is just the wind, just silliness and nonsense, it is you, that when you are alone, in darkness or light, when it is quiet... It is then you will think about the Denizens of Perdition and it is then that they will see you...

 

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Lesson Learned

7/7/08

 

Let me tell you a story... Back in my younger days, when I was full of vinegar and ready to take on the earth and maybe a couple of other planets, I seemed to be quite the ladies man.  One beautiful spring afternoon when love and pollen and pet dander and other harmful things were floating on a breeze, I literally ran into a beautiful girl named Kate.  I almost knocked her down, and she was a knock out.  Red hair, fair skin, Irish passion... The works!!!  I wooed her, and of course she was overcome quickly by my rapier wit and charming personality.  (Not to mention that I had the body of a greek god... most likely Bacchus.)  We fell madly and deeply in love.  Everything was great.  I was intoxicated by love and springtime and poetry and chick flicks and puppies and BAM!!!  Monkey wrench.  While riding the bus one stormy day in may, a passenger like no other boarded at the stop on love street.  Her name was Edith.  She had dark hair and blue eyes (a rare and exotic combonation) and was soaked to the skin.  I, being the gentleman that I am offered her my coat to help stop her shivering.  When I wrapped it around her trembling shoulders and she looked into my eyes... Well, you know.  We fell madly and deeply in love.  Deja Vu... I was intoxicated by love and springtime and poetry and chick flicks and puppies and WAIT A MINUTE! I already have a girlfriend!  I must say right now that I truly did love both girls.  This made my life a living hell.  Of course, like any other red-blooded American lad I wanted the best of both worlds, so I made the decision to keep both of them for my own.  I made schedules.  I took precautions.  I initiated careful and meticulous planning to keep them from finding out about each other. I failed miserably.  Of course, in my arrogance, the fateful day came.  I called Edith when I was supposed to be calling Kate.  Chaos ensued.  I finally had to confess, to both, of my duplicity.  To my horror, they insisted upon meeting each other.  Whoever coined the phrase "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned"  was a wise man.  That day I learned what pain is.  That day I knew what shame meant.  That day I realized:  You can't have your Kate and Edith too.  I'll be here all week.  Thank you and good night.

 

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The Jester Rictus

5/22/08

 

The Jester Rictus

 

There once was a jester called Rictus...

with a big rusty knife he stick'd us.

He served us with spice...

and a nice side of rice.

Then out of his teeth he pick'd us.

 

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-- Robb Fulks, 3/23/11

Love your images and line work. Awesome stuff!
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Love the site Bro. As always your art unbelievable
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The art of Sean Eddingfield...

 Sean Eddingfield ▪ Sapulpa, OK ▪ 918.607.9767
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