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Oct. 5th, 2009 | 10:02 pm

When I see your name writ in shadows upon the clouded sky

I feel the wisps of wind whither to soft breathes against my neck

And the mighty tumults, once my screams become a whimpering sigh

That cause the ship that is my heart to crash to shore and wreck

Torn asunder by lazuli waters with faint streaks of alabaster

Who hold the key to a vengeful sun that sits upon the throne

 Casting aside the jealous moon which rises ever faster

Its face forever showering faint petals of bleached bone


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Diviner's Sage

May. 3rd, 2008 | 01:33 pm

the blind men staring at the walls
hold their secrets under their tongue
hearing a breathless nature's calls
propelling the songs it's sung
although their words remain puzzled,
a confused ape psyche shatters
in mind, tamed and muzzled
breaking free is all that matters
he leaps and flails, to no avail
this realm is not built for the frail

bejeweled starlit creatures hum
clouded in codes of a secret glyph
while layman, who listen to the dumb
dismiss it as merely a myth
but prophets will speak for generations
where angels and gods reside
and also of the penetrations
men can make to view inside
yet for eons priests will persist
in saying such places do not exist

where space has vanished, time does freeze
and laughter is heard in the distance
from hidden, formless entities
who banish all resistance
to the underlying fingerprints
of an unknowable creation
where all around you lies the hints
to the path of pure elation
where soul and body are no more
and ego dissolves right at the core

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Life After Death

Apr. 29th, 2008 | 04:34 pm

We musn't fret over diseases we've caught,
or the sons we have lost, the battles we've fought,
We musn't dwell on the pity of loss
for every body is eaten by moss
The deserts will shake and the moon will fall
and the milky, pale doves will continue to call
The saviors will come and lead us astray
by pulling our ears towards whatever they say
Every last body will lay on the ground
every one of the mightiest ships will be drowned

We will return everything that we've bought
saints will be saved and thieves will be caught
Every dry drunk will succumb to the sauce
and the workers will have their day playing the boss
Every last soldier will give up the brawl
seeing it's better to love than to maul
The priests will continue to bless and to pray
children will run naked and continue to play
And under the coffin you will hear the sound
of the very last king who will ever be crowned.

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3 Poems

Apr. 24th, 2008 | 12:38 pm

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City Wine

Apr. 23rd, 2008 | 03:02 pm

We laugh along with the drunken skies
filled to the bursting brim with pale stars
I have seen the moonlight dance in your eyes

The tallest goliaths of cement flavoured cities
distract us from our purview of scars
we have littered the streets with our undying pities

You have come to me in whimpering psychosis
I have sung requiems praising your sorrow
both of us searching for the pillar of Moses

The strong gust of smoke pouring out of refineries
leaves me running blindly to borrow
the dusty bottles from the foreign wineries

You and I rejoice in the rapturous dusk,
whilst entwined in embrace we remove corks
from bottles wafting an elegant musk

Burnt out from the moon's twitches and spasms
that sillhouette ravens, gray pigeons and storks
who produce albinic waves of orgasms

We stumble around on squalid asphault
casting our cautions out into the ocean
filled with the nectar of barley and malt

After painful hours of wrecked, drunken stumbling
we finish guzzling our sweetened red potion
we laugh as the drunken skies begin crumbling!

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The Murder

Apr. 22nd, 2008 | 02:09 pm

Perched lonely atop a crippled cliff's peak,
with the green sky shaded by hues of gray
you listen to vicious winds speak
of the softened sun setting across the bay
In the distance, lighthouses oscillating
highlight the shadows with a glistening spark,
you hear the mossy, wet grass debating
whether to plunge you towards the dark
Although it's name you do debauch
the rising moon dares not to watch

With your faith you trust the sea to rapture
your weakened frame with open arms
yet the rocks step forth to make the capture
the monstrous sea unimpressed by your charms
While your husband searches, locked in fright
the dogs will lead with scent still fresh
to your body, succumbed to the stars at night
who ravenously tear at lifeless flesh
Who gorge away to fill their bellies
smearing your organs like precious jellies

Again moss covers another headstone
forgotten by unpredjudiced sands of time
of another lost girl who was left to her own
devices and spoiled well under her prime
Oh how cruel and uncaring the fates may be
isolated by Samael, scarred with iniquity
he smokes a white pipe made of plaster and bone
stuffed with the leaves of souls from antiquity
sadistically enticed by the weak, muffled moan
That comes from the snuffing of passion and grace
leaving a mad grin crossing his face

What are we to do when the sun fails to rise
against the backdrop of thick, blotted clouds
When the lady, high up in the moon, shuts her eyes
and drapes over her face the most sorrowful shrouds?
Are we to wander across wasted continents?
Or leap from cliffs high above a violent, white sea?
Should we become humbled, despite our accomplishments,
in order to avoid this deep misery?
I weep, for in sullen skies surely abide
the hungry stars that forever deride.

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The Virgin

Apr. 21st, 2008 | 04:34 pm

She had whispered, a gown of white snowflakes adorned
her milky pale skin caught under the heavy skies,
"I have never been loved, my absence not mourned,
but I caught glimmers of hope underneath your yellow eyes."
So I followed her, trailing her cape of alabaster frost,
I stepped in her foot prints like a meek intercourse,
until she had lead me where the sun and moon crossed
proceeding to steal my youthful virginity by force
leaving me stained with her lips and her scent
I ran with frozen tears towards the church to repent.

The hillsides were graying, acting as a mirror
to the thick, hazy heavens that loomed up above
and as the trees thinned, the path became clearer
I knew virgins as I must not question this love
For what had I known, prior to this confrontation?
I was merely a boy with a gaunt, timid beard
and although my schoolboy's mind dreamed of elation,
I realized this was futile as she dissappeared,
this was the ceremony praised by the druids,
a sanctity, this exchange of bodily fluids.

The abbey doors, weighing like Atlas's globe
swung open with vigor I could not compare,
and seeing the flowing grace of a vermillion robe
wrapped over the preist, amidst the stale air
I shouted; "Forgive me father, for I have sinned,
I have danced the wicked waltz with temptuous fairies!"
He sipped from his chalice of wine and grinned,
spouting the words; "Give me ten Hail Marys!"
So I passed the rosary beads through my palm,
and kept my mouth busy by reciting a psalm.

While emmersed in my trance of religious delusion,
I found the church halls emptied of blasphemous souls,
empty as my schoolboy's mind, filled with confusion
my nostrils heaped with incense over whitened coals,
that wafted from Christ's own wound in his side,
followed by blood for the martyrd angelic,
"You have fallen from grace with that frail pagan bride,"
whispered the mouth of the golden-white relic
"your seed is a sacred gift from my Father,
and you spilled it into a wiccan's unholy daughter!"

So I cried, "I had not wished it to be so!
She has stolen my virtue against my intent!"
Alas, he cast me to the dwelling below,
where the grass is replaced by smoldering cement
Where the Devil in guise of a choir of serpaphim,
practices black alchemy with the stained, soiled blood
of sinners unrepentant that collapse at his whim,
only to be buried in the sulphuric mud
Upon my arrival he noticed, with glee
that this "Shall be the bane of your eternity!"

The black-lipped devil grimaces, unveiling his teeth,
rotted by feasts of scorched souls and dead apples,
that grew in the withered trees kept far beneath
the men who were pious, devoted to the chapels
This smile is piercing, brimming with ancient contempt
for the God who would not rule him supreme,
except over this barren land where no theif is exempt
from the pitifully mighty Satan's cruel regime
As I approached the white flames of the fire,
I awoke to the calming, sweet prayers of the friar

It was merely deep fervor that sent me to Hades,
I was back in the company of the stunned preist
and nuns, the most chaste and valiant of ladies,
who had fretted, believing I may have deceased
Yet my eyes were now open, flickering and bulging
I arose with great haste to my worn, tired feet
although they had presed, there would be no dilvuging
for the words of the Christ were my own, I dared not repeat
The sacred words that fell upon my accursed ears,
I ran out from the abbey, my cheeks awash in red tears

Pushing with all strength back to the whiserping forest
where the Celtic heathens danced and drank semen
for now I knew that they were subject to the poorest
of treatments from a heartless, delusional demon
Yet the foot prints had vanished under the light snow
that had fallen in my hour under the cathedral
from the darkened pale skies with the faint, sullen glow
of the sun that shone down on the poor town of Beadnil
My home, by the ocean that carried it's tides
to the grave where the ghostly maiden surely hides

That pale apparition who had made me impure
and had stained my baptismal outlook on this life
leaving behind sickness with no means of a cure
unless I could make that young spirit my wife
I have heard, in the time passed, she runs among fauna
and bathes in the clear rushing tides of the lakes
that have opened themselves to become her sauna
yet another poor soul who will repeat my mistakes
She is laughing in the echoes of caverns and wells
enchanting foolish men with her alchemist's spells

Her elixer remains, scarred into my lips
I recall her voice, leaving no discernable trace
of the ugliness that comes from her spread hips
that I plundered in foolish, youthful embrace
The ecstasy of her honeydew fingers
caressing my frail and malnourished frame
are remembered by this young boy now as the bringers
of death, destruction, pestilence and shame
Oh my dear nymph, you are the tune
that is played from the pale white light of the moon!

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