A List of New Literary Devices

  1. Ekphrastic Motabilem – Detailing the process of creating a work of art, or describing the process of skilled work. More specifically, utilizing Ekphrasis through describing the art form or skilled work in its process. Otherwise called “Ekphrasis”, but more technically called Ekphrastic Motabilem.

1. Example: Jeremiah 18:4 “And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it.”

2. Example: “Go, Ploughman, Plough” By Joseph Campbell



2. Hyperloxy or pl. Hyperloxa – An oxymoron expressed through hyperbole, to especially emphasize the last statement and make it stronger than the previous statement, which otherwise should be stronger.

 1. Example: “He is not very wise, but has an unrivaled wit.”



3. A Vulgar – When taking something that usually isn’t vulgar, or even taking a Euphemism, and making it vulgar through tone.

 1. Example: From Wordsworth’s “Transubstantiation”: “And, while the Host is raised, its elevation/ An awe and supernatural horror breeds,”



More will be added to this list, as I discover them.


Save Your Servant Israel

LORD, to where do I turn?

LORD, to where do I turn?

Do I turn to the north?

Will my help come from there?

Do I turn to the south?

Do I turn to the king?

Do I turn to the earth?

What is underneath the earth?


From where does my help come?

Idols do not set before my eyes

I have heard your voice

Idols do not set before my eyes

And I, LORD, I am a listener ready to listen

I am a sheep ready to be set down

In the pasture.

Where does my help come?

Surely all other gods are wolves

Ready to steal

And destroy.

Surely all other gods deceive

And surely they say, “Do some little bit of evil

“So that your will comes to pass.

“Love your life so much

“That you will do this little evil

“And your desire shall surely shine forth like the morning star.”


Yet, LORD, if there is error in my heart

If in my way are stumbling-blocks

Surely You shall remove them.

Why do I, LORD, why do I excel above other men?

Am I something which men look to and say

“This man is my example.”

Surely not, LORD, for You are the example

You are the path set before our feet.

If all else follow after vain idols

I shall surely stay steadfast in Your love.

For where does my heart lean?

If there is a company against me

I shall call upon you early

I shall, before the war

Constantly speak into your ear.


Who are the men who trouble the meek?

Who are those who cause trouble for your servant Israel?

Surely they shall be set forth ablaze

And shall burn for eternity in hell.

Yet, I, I shall listen and wait upon You.

For my salvation is like a wellspring

And my heart a steadfast servant.

Though the company does not believe my words

Though they say, “He lies, there is nothing good in him,”

Though they wait for my feet to stumble

And though they make a diligent watch for sin

LORD return upon their own heads their mischief.

For dreams they accuse Your servant

While they walk forth in slander and murder all the day long.

How long shall the wicked prosper?

Surely you shall not let your servant see decay.

The World is not Ours

The world is Narcissism.

The Lugbutqts are a part of it.

To cleanse the world of all narcissists

One would need become the ultimate narcissist.

To gain the whole world

To rid it of all its fascists

To rid it of all its communists

All of its would be dictators

All of its would be terrorists

All of its would be Illuminati and threats to public well being.

To destroy every double agent

To destroy every Femfascist and Nazi…

To kill every murderer

To kill every rapist

To kill every adulterer

To feel like it is needed to put the World back on its alignment.

It would take a dictator of sorts

Whose vanity would exceed all that Nero ever did.


I suppose the Christians would stand in his way

Like they did in the New England Tragedies.


The world is not ours, Christians.

Let it fall apart.

Just proclaim the Gospel to every tribe, tongue and nation.

Because the world is Narcissism

And in order to win against it

One must become the Narcissist.

The Pastor

The old pastor sat down to sup

With his large, delicious breakfast.

A messenger stood beside him

One who had spoken with him a very long time ago.

The messenger looked as if he hadn’t aged but a week.


The messenger, joyful, asked,

“Are you a Christian?”

The old preacher replied,


The messenger then said,

“Good, do not ever give up on the faith.”

The messenger received his sweet drink

So stood again by the table.

Joyfully the messenger entreated the old pastor

To a conversation

But the old pastor said,

“I just want to eat.”


Parisian streets

Wet with prismatic water;

The lamps bright

Flickering off of pools—


Walk cross paths.

Paint splatters high,

Mounds high—

Real miracles my road map—

Like a globe, running fingers down the mountains.


Had it not been a miracle

Suppose the book with legged Seraphim

Would suffice for my knowledge of miracles.


We cross paths many times.

There in the Parisian streets.—

Mounded high, over it my finger goes

Like touching a globe.

You want it, don’t you?

I do believe since the legged Seraphim

Inspired you

Those who sung in your dream

The Spanish hymn,

“We, We, We,”

I do suppose they are likely to give it to you.

I do not want you visions

But they are now mine

Because you stole from me.


Hairy Situation

My love…

You will talk to the priest.

You will learn to be strong.

You will learn the blasphemous doctrine.

He will teach you how to be strong

And to prosper.

That the poor, little meek man

Was sinning.


I’d rather be called a liar

Than be an actual liar.

For that, the wicked flock has prepped you

To steal from me.

But I had written what was right.

I strove with a priest of Baal.


Already I hear their accusations against me.

But I see your dreams.

I love you…

If you ask me to die for you

I shall die for you.

If you ask me for the world

I will give it to you—

If you ask me for my work

I shall give it to you.


Just ask the question…

For you had not written it.

I had written it.

And I know what you will be taught.

You will be taught the gospel of prosperity.

You will be turned aught against me by Ashur.

You will be told how I am weak

And am that man who betrayed Jesus.


Is not a meek man by a pool

Much more righteous than a man

With more power to gain the whole world?

I know the so called prophet you adhere to.

I even saw him that day.

I pinned him to the floor.

He will know it.


I speak this…

Because they are all just dreams.

Your life is a nightmare.

It is not mine.

I wake every day,

And strive with God just like Jacob did.

I say this to you:

To have gone further would have been a sin;

Yet you will.

My own Father declared me blameless

First Person Omniscient

In my childish mind

When first embarking on my herculean task

Of finishing my very first novel

I had seen a need to write

“First Person Omniscient.”

Write it I would try

With lots of exposition.


However, I realized later on when writing it

By writing first person omniscient

I had created an unreliable narrator.

Namely, my own narrations

About a nowhere.


The same questions posed to me

Were the same questions that destroyed

My nowhere.


And my nowhere was as good as this nowhere

I speak, where my foot is on the soil.

It was as real

As flawed…

And I had failed to write my Firs Person Omniscient

Because I hadn’t even understood the nowhere I wrote about.

Later on, other characters would

Which is why I’m proud to have written that cumbersome novel.

One Thousand Pages about a nowhere

Where all radicals would love to live.

And live they do

To see their radical veins of conservatism

Get destroyed by the very powers

They adhere to.

Those being the elixirs of worldlust

And desiring to change what didn’t need changed in the first place.

Only, power becomes the liberal

And radical becomes the conservative.


My advice to any radical reading my epic failure

Is to know that we are not able

Not even close

Not even if we wanted to

Able to write in First Person Omniscient.

Not even when dealing with a fictional world.