Archive for January, 2014


Reoccuring Feast


Born via nocturnal sessions – cherished portal

She smiles coquettishly, intently – innocent wanton lips

Siren’s eyes draw out a virile pulse – gaze into her flawless sin

Corrupting, undulating supple creature – sanctified new religion

Speaks in pleasing, worshiping words – for her man only

Wishing to murder the awful dawn – more time, more love

Unreal, self-serving mind is racing – little living heaven is dying

Tonight again, tonight – says goddess as she flies into selfish sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Butchery


Haphazardly conceived in ugliness

Housed in indecisive rooms

Questioning the crumbling foundation

Mothered by a muscular grunt

Home scents – confusingly inappropriate

Clothes? Made to shut others away

On body and in sponge-like head – Ah yes

What are you? An absolutely exquisite lie!

Mind says one thing – leave this realm

Mirror cackles something else – not ready yet

God did it wrong!  Cut, stuff, inject and repeat

See remnants of human you – loathe and loathe more

No surgeon! See doctor for your head!

Altered ears don’t hear rationale

Happy hands end the race – corpse won’t age

Name on your marker – Plastique or Quasi-Mannequin

 

 

 

 

 

Harlequin


Invisible scars – so aptly appealing

Mask the dark feelings – says Mr. Head

Yes, brilliant – a lovely harlequin mask

Engage in mockery – silently, not so silently

Damning scene invades liar’s eyes

Genuine tenderness – why are masks off

Love must meet failure – it matters not

Scars reopen – droplets are hallucinogenic and real 

Honest blood – is it too late Mr. Head?

Invisible face, now replaced – diamond-shaped satin and sequins

No name or even gender – Harlequin lives a charming lie

 

 

 

 


Aimlessly wandering

Why is there wandering?

Plans were evicted or killed

Must negotiate upcoming danger

Through a forest of villainous eyes

All offering help – into an early grave

Purposeful squeaky gurney

Rolling on medicated grounds

Why all the restraints?

Who gives a damn what day is it?

Those cuts weren’t all that deep

No meds – they’re vile poison

Stable is a crippled brain

Numb, weak and stupid

Delivered by a bastard syringe

Mourning the loss of deep purple sky

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bible Thumper


Self-serving soliloquies – heard by a dying crowd

Gaze at skeletal creatures garbed in pestilence – does colored humanity reek too much

Averting probing questions – self frailty doesn’t exist, your sweet lie

Sustain your monstrous arsenal – use 30 pieces of silver and tax collector bribes

Beware the omnipresent evil Philistines – what do they number in your self-righteous head  

Kneel before God and Christ – comfortably on a pious silk pillow

Proclaim perfect love and loyalty – while admiring your new Roman robes

A Worthy Him


No perfumed steam cloud

drifting into hungry nostrils

No curved silhouette

to grace an unloved bed

No coy morning smile

to arm you – a battler of day

Her man is not you at all

And she is loving a worthy him


Walk down memory lane – it may help

Exquisite dining bathed in a low light sea

Manicured, sculpted thus polished features

Polite flirting laced with sincerity

Honesty rears its lackluster head

Yesterday’s foolish lover is today’s recovering friends


Battled the Himalayas and won

Safaried amongst humbled kings

Bottled the cure to unremarkable living

And pontificated your genius to every camera and mic

Now here you are – lucky me

So sure that ours will be a Shakespearian affair

Happily, I’ll take the busboy home

Within The Mud


You wish to pluck me? A lovely flower?

I am centered in a foreboding sea

A world of vile, putrid mud

I grow best amongst the unloved

The abhorrent ones in turn love me

Gladly surrendering all

Beauty, fragrance and admiration

To live forever within the mud

 

 

 

 


Turn back smile that is today

Manipulate, control, rage and violence

Her words and status

Of horrid survival – yesterday

Far back yesterday

Coated with ups and terrifying downs

Psychotic mother hands

Wielding soul maiming tool

Some sort of cord – across bottom and thighs

During sleep – there is no sleep

Running after her speeding car

Please don’t leave me

She left me – for tear-stained hours

Enough, enough of this, says culprit

You still don’t forgive me?

Of course, I do – so much bigger than you

Massive silence – of love or anger

Is the extension cord I use – on you today