Grave Thoughts

The walls, the trees

The sky and the wind...

Everything whispers not to forget.

There once was a child born,

And nothing has been the same since.

Crystalline

Understanding:

The future is wide open.

A smattering of humor

Laced with insecticide,

Breakfast.

That is the good news.

The day began properly,

Filled with the nervous sense of

Uh-oh.

Fingers touched

And lips met.

Just as prophecied

The stars eclipsed the sky,

And no one cares why.

Seclusion

The sting of the recluse,

The festering open sore

That is loneliness:

Call it satisfied desires.

We all get what we want.

Too far.

Just how far

Would that be?

Couldn't there be further?

Beauty

Languishes

In the basement

Chained up by pointlessness.

Broken glass and razor blades

Make such wonderful toys

For all the good little girls and boys.

Play with me, cut your self.

The pain fades.

Skin peels away from the small corpses

So much easier than from

The big ones.

The tiny legs and dainty paws

Once so alive,

To grasp,

To run and leap,

Scraps on the chopping block.

In the forest a hollow resonates,

Vines cling like the arms of jilted lovers,

And the hidden life

Despises that which they see

In this thing, man

(despises and fears).

This is no pale faced prairie boy.

This is the hard savage from the frozen waste.

Prairie boy looks like a light snack.

This is not the repressed Christian

Who described the white whale,

Nor the honest one who masked the priest's face.

I AM: the harbinger

Of a new way.

Envision

Total

Freedom.

Somehow words

Become children's games.

Dangerous games

Are always the most fun.

Mystery becomes angry

When too many secrets become clear.

A paltry hint,

A brief clue,

Nothing frightens the true.

The earth mother sleeps,

Safe in the arms of pregnancy.

The father could not swallow the child.

A stone wrapped in swaddling clothes

Guarded the fruit of Rhea's loins.

And so the father groaned,

Thwarted.

The child could not be eaten,

Such the legacy of Cronus,

Doomed to face defeat

At the hands of his own son.

Pater

Mors

Even in death

Gender contradiction

Enlightenment,

Oh, mass confusion

and misguided vocabulary.

Never fear young one,

The bugaboo only seeks to frighten

So that he will be left alone.

Transparency...

A difficult curse to shake.

Even devils once had a soul.

The lessers lost favor

For foolish pursuits.

Imagine sacrificing eternity in heaven

Because your wings would look better

Polka dotted.

Pretend for a second

Everything you were taught is true.

Funny, isn't it?

Imagine now

That it was all lies.

Don't be at a loss for words.

Nothing

Changed.

God is just a feeling,

A warm, fuzzy cathexis.

Faith,

Similar to constipation

And anal retentiveness.

Words

Are Not As Safe

As They Once Were.

Quiet

Hush

The web has ears,

Floppy rabbit ears.

Lagomorpha prowls for his doe.

No images reach this place

Where consciousness

Battles doubt

And finds

Emptiness.

Nothing.

No finger ever reached out

To touch the hand of God

Deus noumenon

Inside

Nowhere else

Console yourself.

There is one chance.

Embrace the truth.

Embrace that which you know to be certain.

Ne plus ultra

Forever routs

Vacuity.

How could stupidity

Ever win anything?

Amentia

By definition

Must be discomfited.

Donne datum.

Sheer ignorance is different.

The greatest defense

For five billion lost souls:

That they were neophytes,

One and all.

N'est-ce pas?

Forever

Now

That

Is a

BIG

Idea.

Adonai

The Word Made Flesh

The beginning and the end

And all in between

Know Him

Know eternity

Chew on this gasconade,

The words are their own accolade.

Oh ye of little knowledge,

Thank the Lord for those with educations

And experience.

Did you ever stop to think

That I am not the problem,

But that maybe it is your own ignorance?

Go, go, go

Boy got an ego.

Enough small talk.

Got a life?

Got an inkling?

Something special that makes the difference?

Don't be too shy to share.

It's not art.

It's heresy, hypocrisy,

Dastardly...

Just plain filth.

easy now

don't upset the bottom feeder

you know how testy poets can be

Once a vision of grandeur,

Free beneath the moon,

One of God's stateliest creatures,

Regal and above all criticism.

Since its beauty first met my gaze

Its rack of a dozen fleches

I have wanted the venery of the beast,

So that it's musty meat could grace

My lusty Christmas feast.

Simple creatures

Consternate the judgmental.

Judgments of the mundane

Over-shoot the mark

Through analytical

Over-complication.

The simplest plans

Offer the least chance of failure.

Carnivore

Meat

Food

Simple enough?

Fear

Loathing

A Mr. H. S. Thompson

(no, wait)

The things I expect from

My audience.

That's why you came,

Right?

To hate,

To abhor.

Please tell me

You don't want to curl

Round the feet of insanity,

And wait for supper's

Delicious treats,

Hand fed.

My pet, my sweet.

Succor me.

Nothing else will suffice.

Your maculate touch

Brings my dead nerves

To life.

I want you,

More now than I ever

Have before.

The Paphian purse

My favorite ingredient for every concoction.

The flavor lasts and lasts.

The mystique in the shapes and the meanings

Find no parallel beneath the sun,

Hurtful

Burning entity that the sun may be.

Shame flounders in the shallows.

The promise of youthful flesh

Drew the predator in close,

But confidence and surety

Beached the great hunter.

I feel no shame.

The only beauty left

For the old and grisly

Resides in the forbidden

Untouchable sanctuary

Of the mature yet to lose innocence.

I exist at cross purposes

With the objects of my desire.

The immaculate are disgusted by the sight

Of one so hardened by the world.

Granted a new lease on life,

All infatuation aside,

Every breath tastes so good,

And all the nectar sweet.

This is not the man-boy

Anything.

What sick, twisted games...

I hope you didn't think...

Nevermind.

Once seen

The evil

Is impossible to

Un-see.

Preference:

The evil is a joke.

The badness

Is quaint,

Yet trite.

Hunger for unconversant flesh

Plagues

The immortal.

Death?

Soon?

Please?

Conscience

Damns

The insecure.

Damnation

Only a cold, lonely place

Where nothing living moves

Or breathes.

Once breached

The shakes

And the shivers

Keep all too close

Companionship.

The journey to warmth

Can only happen

When love oversees.

No life

Without Love.

No thought

Finds safety in hatred.

No existence

Will become eternal

Without embracing

That which is intelligent,

Simple,

And unfailing.

Love,

So simple

But so complicated.

Master of cliches

I beg you,

Make me free.

Silence

Is

Golden.

Hush my mouth.

It's all crazy talk.

Shut my face.

Ignorant.

Retarded.

Silence

Is

Golden,

And I

Should have been a pair of ragged...

Thoughts...

Reference?

Seas of golden goodness.

Nothing like golden showers,

Baths of acidic lust

Tempered by sheer primordial

Thirst.

Dare spoken word

Compromise

The stronghold of perversion?

Unleash the wolf

For He has grown mightlily hungry

For the blood of infants.

Tender baby flesh

Offers the path of least resistance

To the fangs of hardened

Savagery.

Jesus knows

Just how good

Babies taste.

For in Him

All is realized,

Even

A weakness

For infant flesh.

Words

Play

Dangerous

Games.

Guard your young.

The mere mention

Of shiny coriaceous dress,

Or the snake caressing Beauty on a spancel,

Brings

Blood

To

Boil.

Even at the molecular level.

Embarrassed?

Shiver me timbers...

I like that.

My affection is the same

For sheer wigglers sticking out of

Strict chaussure,

Worshipped

By the mouths

Of groveling subhumans.

Censure me.

I laugh.

Pathetic dogmatics.

You amuse me.

I wonder what the taste

Of cock-strong

Would do to your interpretation.

Somewhere along the way

Simple became biological

And my hormones woke up

To want...

If only biology

Could explain

This unholy

Quest.

Want for the

Layers

Beneath

The folds,

Want for unbridled concupiscence.

The good little guy

Has gone.

Replaced

By the big bad

Harvester

Of must have.

Must have it.

So perfect,

So right,

Must have it!

Rational thought replaced

By sight,

Touch,

And Technique.

Must Have IT!

The caress

So deep inside

Hold on!

Still here...

So fine,

Still female,

Still happy with you,

Take me!

It won't be like taking

An unwilling victim.

WANT!

So strong,

So wanton,

Want one,

Want it!

Go figure.

Honesty.

Behold!

The truth will open doors...

Now what was that

That was so important

For the world to know?

It must have been this.

There is nothing more important

Than animal attraction.

Mankind exists

For no other reason.

Why don't you show me

Where I went wrong,

And

While you're at it

Show me how

Humans

Aren't like that,

Just to entertain me,

Because I already know

How right I am.

Choke on it.

You are an animal,

No matter how you deny.

So Am I!

You Are Not Alone!

Cry out not to emptiness!

Cry out!

I hear you!

I love!

I love you!

I love everyone!

Love is the key!

Love!

Love become reality!

Blessed Be!

LOVE!

All One
 
You are in
A dungeon
 
To escape the dungeon
You must realize
You are in a dungeon
 
The dungeon exists
Suffering exists
The dungeon is suffering
 
Want causes suffering
Desire causes pain
 
Desire, anger, greed
Lust, fear
All one
 
If you suffer
It is because you are a slave
To your own desires
 
Desire for
Money, sex, power
Anything that distracts
 
This is the negative cycle
This is the sprung trap
This is your karma
 
Material desire is an anchor
Chained to your spirit
By your own design
 
Ego lies to the spirit
About priorities
Denial its insidious tool
To be free
Is to understand
To learn is to overcome
 
Freedom means balance
Getting straight means freedom
Work, think, live in stability
 
The body is transient
Matter is an illusion
Only the spirit is eternal
 
Learn
To understand
Now
 
All things are one
Self importance confuses self
As a means of self preservation
 
Let go of your self
Deny your ego
Open your eyes to reality
 
All things are one
Good Evil
Pleasure Pain
 
Heaven Hell
Loss Gain
One
 
This is the greatest battle
The stand against personal demons
The conquest of self and desire
 
Victory brings a cleansing fire
Internal harmony
Balance
 
Always place spirit before reason
Always faith before mind
Then visualize
 
This is the journey to fulfillment
This is the opening of the mind
The transformation to Beauty
Metamorphosis
 
Abandon all illusions
Nothing will be hidden
All can be seen
 
Birth Death
Blood Dust
Learn
One
 
Beyond form is void
The other side of illusion
Absolute quiet
 
No one
Nothing happens
Nothing to do
No one to do it
Empty
 
Except for God
One without second
The eternal witness
 
Pure being
Pure limitless consciousness
God is all pervading light
 
Hatred is a disease of the ego
Judgment, dogma, bias
More lies from the maladjusted
 
The true God is
Every god of
Love and infinite energy
 
Love until
You and love
Become One
 
Or hate
Waste and regret
Until it consumes you
 
Nothing is easy
Everything is a struggle
Even simple things lay waste
 
Prepare yourself
If you care or wish
Get your life straight
 
Right now you are stuck
Open your heart
Open your mind
 
The things you seek
Come at too high a price
Escape prisoner
 
You owe yourself freedom
You owe yourself vision
Begin to give in
Step out of the cage
 
This place is real
Nothing here will lie to you
 
Unless you seek sympathy
You may find help here
A moment of respite from the crush
 
This is the airport
For the astral plane
Boarding now
 
Dreams live and breathe
Mocking form and matter
Perception a matter of choice
 
None of this is advice
Consider it a warning
From a friend
 
Never enough time to satisfy desire
And never enough
Anything
 
Life can be so much better
Than want
Choking your life out
 
One has come before you
You could never be the worst
No sin
Nothing new
Not today
The catacombs bear witness
To the battle
My blood is everywhere
 
I am the one
For whom the world lost hope
Far gone
 
I have returned from the place
Where dead men whisper
And flesh surrenders
 
This is the dungeon
The catacombs and the treasure lie
Side by side
 
All of the monsters of desire
Are on display here for you
All of the sick and the wrong
 
The final reward yet eludes me
But I have found many answers
I will try to show them to you
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
In Bethlehem one starry night a little child was born
Who gave us cause to celebrate on every Christmas morn.
Jesus is the promise of our Lord’s eternal love,
And though He dwelt on earth a time He reigns from up above.
May this season be one of hope, of peaceful, joyous giving,
And al the year may others see that Christ is in you living.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Only Two
 
Herein writhe the demons of love
 
They are my own
But beware
They could be yours
 
Balance and attraction
Between opposites
Results in creation
 
Sexuality is balance
Between higher laws
And base instinct
 
Man Woman
Yin Yang
Inbreath Outbreath
Woven
 
Love Unites
Everything
The heart leads
Wisdom and will
Into harmony
 
I saw her at the party
I went to her
 
Long brown hair
Flecked with gold dust
 
Whispered
How I want you
 
A long ride home
My place
First the pleasure
Then the emptiness
 
Gaping hole open wide
Swallows light
Down deep inside
 
 
Scars across my memory
Welts and bruises
All over
 
My lover tasted so sweet
Until the aftertaste
Burned my throat
Hot and bitter
 
(unfinished)
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Sunset
Red, orange
Sinking, setting, disappearing
Endlessness, eternity, everlasting, energy
Sunset
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Lree, Lree sweet and sharp
Bounding through the valley of mourn
On small dextrous feet
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Abomination Stand
 
The darkness is upon me then:
Without pain no reality exists.
Unless your presence suffocates
You have no place in my world.
 
What words could justify
Affection turned upside down,
Begging for mercy?
 
One tiny drop of blood
Escapes its weal and trickles
Onto my anxious tongue.
 
Taste is so good.
So alive, so much pain.
What more proof could I need?
 
Dangle a fishhook down my throat
To see if the evil bites.
The disease wants daylight.
Pull it’s vile head to the surface.
Whose face
 Did you expect?
 
I am so happy, happy, happy
For you and yours,
Because you worked so hard while my world crumbled,
My body raced to extinction
And all things good vanished.
I am glad that you felt none of that
While you prepared your homegrown judgments.
 
Stay out of my world.
You don’t know what its like.
 
The voices in my head aren’t your average voices.
They tell me not to seek your sympathy.
The pity of the world is a trap
That steals every shred of dignity.
Sympathy is a lie,
Like my youthful ideals: equality
And impartial justice.
One world under economic oppression
Racism, sexual prejudice and hatred.
 
The only thing that makes me feel better:
I haven’t been a part of your world
Since I can’t remember when.
 
Around the time when love
Became just another word
The true pointlessness of caring
Finally became crystal clear.
These words did not come to be written
Out of compassion,
But instead out of hatred
For you, your family, your God,
Your society
And everything all of that stands for.
 
You do not even exist for me.
I can find no one anywhere,
Just this pain and fucking emptiness
Clawing at my soul to drag me
Into nothingness.
 
I once dreamed of beauty.
How youth withers and blackens.
Last night a grotesque, gurgling creature
(my inner child all grown up)
Touched my forehead
With the carbuncled mass that is its finger.
Nothing can ever be well again.
 
All of the hopeless moments return
To sashay by in smug satisfaction,
Wanting to be replayed.
So what do you dream about?
Sugarplums? Candy canes?
Or your big fat working man’s paycheck
For your big fat working man’s family.
Fuck it all.
I’d rather my own nightmares
Than your perfect world.
 
This is the chance
I have been waiting for all of my life
To open up and let all the bile
Spew out onto you.
 
 
Maybe vampires don’t live forever undead.
Maybe they live a normal life
Where every second feels like an eternity
Damned to have lost all soul
To the sweet, sensual taste of blood
Or worse
Maybe the vampire inside of me
Wants to suck all the joy out of your life
And swallow it, just to feel it curdle
Way down deep inside.
I would swallow every bit of it
Even if it would make me sick.
 
I will not repent
For none of this should come as any surprise.
Child of the vacuum
A prisoner in the place
Where sweetness committed suicide
And I failed in all my attempts
Never to try again.
 
I have something to say.
I don’t care if this little world
Doesn’t like it, or can’t handle it
Or thinks it’s pretentious crap.
Keep your arms from around my neck
Nor ever again whisper sweet nothing’s in my ear.
The flower that was once
My love for this world
Has become a sea of thorns.
I love no more.
 
I want to wrap the tentacles of my animosity
All around your body
And draw you tightly to my disdain.
 
To all the women and all the men
Who wanted my attentions:
You have them now.
I curse you all.
May you feel every hollow moment
That drove me to this abominable stand.
May you know what it means
To be a useless object.
May you love the rain as I do
But never again feel it on your skin.
May you cry out for your lover’s touch
But receive only a goodbye note.
I curse you,
And I do not forgive easily.
 
Outside life tries to pass me by.
I say to life, “Begone!”
My ache to be heard
To cry out
To scream at the sky so that all may know
Lost.
I refuse to worry about this thing
Life
Anymore.
 
Abomination that I may be,
I have made peace with myself.
I want to worship like a dog
At the feet of desire
Until all hope is gone.
I want to chase at the wind
Like a butterfly
Until the storm carries me away.
 
Nothing anyone in this world
Could ever say or do
Will ever change the person
I have become.
 
I was once a child filled with goodness
And, well, too early I found an answer
To the hideous zombie coos and smiles
Directed into my crib:
Vomit.
I still have all of that goodness.
I keep it hidden
Where the world will never find it.
What you can have
Is my soiled adult diapers.
 
Evil took an innocent babe
And crafted the bitter man.
Bitterness perpetuates the wrong.
Evil’s only chance for survival failed,
Though bitter I am.
 
Evil does not exist
In the heart that seeks no excuses,
Just as Love does not exist
For the mind that can find no words to speak.
 
This is a confession.
This is a declaration.
This is an admonition.
This is just another vain attempt
To be free.
[bullshit free]
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Bitter
(she said goodbye)
 
Eternity is far too long
For the fickle heart of man.
“Today I’ll love you forever
Tomorrow I won’t give a damn.”
 
You know I’ll always remember
The magic we have shared
Until, of course, it comes to when
I forget I ever cared.
 
Of course we’ll still be friends
Or pretend for a little while
And do remember those silly tears
Belong hidden behind a smile.
 
*****
 
God Baby
You are so alive
I want to suck your life out
From between your legs
Until your eyes are vacant
Like mine.
 
←→
 
 
This fear encompasses the waking world,
All that I see and feel
Corrupted by nervous anxiety.
I know there is an answer.
God smiles down upon me
Yet I find it easier to frown
Than accept the love
Offered without reservation.
So often I curse free will
The doom of my shortsighted existence.
If only I could live
The life that was meant for me.
The sense of loss of the fallen angels
 Could not be much worse than my alienation
From the realm of the good and pure.
If only I could be sure
Of all eternity's promises,
Then slip from material harnesses
On to greater spiritual reward
When the hour of doom is at hand.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Often logic can find no out
For the problems that I pose
God knows but He's not saying
Though I continue praying,
Maybe all my questions are wrong,
All my pleas selfish
My ego too strong.
Vile arrogance... we meet as before
When I lost
‘Twas your colors I wore.
Now I see the cost
Of that fool's alliance,
The penalty, the price
Of false valiance.
I declare to the young and the weak
Please beware
No gain is worth the sacrifice.
Embrace all that is meek
Do not quest to conquer that peak,
The pinnacle on which my world met its end.
I offer this advice as your friend.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The monkey on the string
 Will dance
And call his stupidity
 Romance
This is love
Please treat it so
I love you
So never say no
 
 
 
 
No Problem Boys
(A Partial Diary of Lunatic Mardi Gras)
 
more fun than false half and half legend*I and the heavy wal-mart 
contest 
taker, ooh, that blue light special*more famous a deal than any could 
make 
here*we all went down to duh mahdi graw poddy hardy honey*still going 
blind, 
deaf and dumb*act like a sucker with one hell of a wad of dough and get 
iced, don't you know?*in the pocket not yet hocked*the other guys were 
dips 
like me*the good time of the century*hundred to nothing chaos paid 
overtime*break slow and work amid the turmoil, filed away into number 
thirteen*toked flow away antsy sidewalk hurt nothing but the turret 
meant to 
gun down anything even suspiciously looking like not having fun*The Fun 
Turret of Hardy Death*I stare down the barrel of the forty-five in my 
face, 
a couple of blocks into way too deep, acting like the king of the mahid 
graw 
trash heap*the biggest baddest large and colorful equipped with the 
latest 
technological breakthrough in clean kills*shower movers and shakers, 
half 
baked fantasy plane planning twosome*money from the gruesome chasm 
straight 
to the heart of the first taker*dudes scopin' wads tryin' to catch the 
boys 
unaware*half wits wit no wiles, full time posers with no style, holding 
guns, should be stomped in the ground and covered in tourist shit*show 
nothing seething gyrate*hitting him gave the man full claim to 
irate*another 
wounded dog*sidle up to the man and hand him a hand, gag, loup garrou, 
that 
is wolf dropper hopped up for a real good time*the scariest cop on that 
street is very mean*tipped back a cold one and holding, showing two 
aces and 
a fast suicide king on the run*congrats occifer on the promotion to a 
real 
human being from the gutter goo you were before*Vote Bush, the man who 
popularized everyday use of previously obscure cocaine*the terminator 
people 
make holes in their brains to pour in the stuff the prez said 
definitely not 
to fool with*how could he be unaware that the sellers love short 
supply?*we 
are faring rather well in hell, too well, it's too quiet, there must be 
a 
hoodlum nearby somewhere for the sound to stop like that*ruling with 
paper 
hands and every party counting the quota, grains and grams, pretend 
unplanned, and then go buy and buy*in nose scent spent well planning to 
fan 
out before the first hueys come over the horizon with fully automated 
fun 
killers*devout gang lords take a little pity on the men strong enough 
to 
survive similar experiences*they woo the entire city from the projects, 
ruling with the large dump on the small scene, cutting the competition 
price 
is basis enough to be sent floating down the river into the stinking 
polluted gulf because they thought one thrity five should be the price 
instead of one every now and then at two twenty five*heavy levied a 
vote or 
two for the quiet Baton Rouge black market with bargains coming coming 
from 
the west and the south
There must be some way out of the crap trap that everyone falls into 
when 
trapped under the pavement of the dirty streets of New Orleans where 
the 
underground is full of rats with diseases that never go away and all of 
them 
want to share with the first nice people they meet because giving 
diseases 
should have nothing to do with race creed color or sexual orientation, 
or so 
said the association down there dedicated to protecting the full share 
of 
underground rights which include everything illegal that has no victim, 
and 
all of the acts that
include willing victims, so we figured it wouldn't be too long before 
Ash 
Wednesday rolled around and if we survived it was a great experience to 
know 
that the law can do absolutely nothing to a body of people over two 
million 
strong this year, and though several people fellin the line of 
alcoholic 
duty, dead, that is, it was probably their time to go anyway, and the 
murderer usually does get caught, OKAY?
 
Today is my mother’s birthday.
Once again I forgot until the last minute.
That doesn’t make me feel as bad it used to,
Probably because she has grown accustomed
To my forgetfulness.
Still, my self centeredness bothers me.
It is one thing I would change.
 
An hour later I called her.
She was happy to hear from me.
It was the very least I could do.
How can she be proud of me?
If only she really knew
The things I say
The things that show on my face
Are beyond motherly compassion,
But, then, I am an adult,
All grown up,
Beyond concern, after a fashion.
How did my life become this way?
It seems like just yesterday
I was an innocent baby,
And now this.
That hurts.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
From out of the quagmire,
The undying cesspool of wasted human essence,
The quicksand of regrets and guilt,
Emerges the staff,
The power that may be wielded,
Or the length that may be caressed
To issue forth beauty
Proclamations
All the denial of everything shallow
All a rebuttal to calloused dismissal
Welcome gentle touch
The staves, the wands, the gloves
The fingers
All wrapped up
::Begging to see the light::
::beg like a small frail lost
 and all alone until
Light (somewhere) to see by
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I will always remember the Halloween of 1978.
My bag got filled up over the top; I ate and ate and ate.
I’m telling you all, all you treaters and trickers,
Don’t pig out on those Mars bars and Snickers.
 
A more nauseous feeling you’ll never know,
A trip to the bathroom may ease your woe.
But you’re all bound up in some stupid suit.
You shouldn’t have collected so much loot.
 
So follow my advice, my poor little friends,
And don’t let gluttony be one of your sins.
 
Time is short right now.
Every moment is of the essence.
I know I will make it through,
But in the end it won’t be pleasant.
With so little time what should be said
To make everything all right?
All of the lights I see turn red.
This could be akin to final.
So many questions
So little room for waiting.
I wonder if the medics
Can cure this infection
Free me from this gruesome fate.
They tell me I’m wounded
This could be the end
Of the war, the struggle, the death
My will has been impounded,
Captured
Lost both to enemy and friend.
Each gasp could be my last breath.
As finality nears I see the light.
The souls beckon to me to join them.
In confusion I must consent.
This is my spirit’s final plight,
The place where defiance was spent.
I look to escape, on a whim.
Cosmically it happens.
Free despite fetters
Rules and laws and judges.
I just needed to let go
Of a few old grudges.
 
 
I never know where to begin.
Maybe if I search my mangled heart
The chosen plan
Will become clear.
No.
I am wrong.
There is nothing inside of me.
My heart contains nothing but blood
And all of that just my own.
 
 
 
 
The Long Forgotten
It doesn’t mean much of anything
To too many people
But to a few
Everything.
I am sure that you
Aren’t one.
I can see the glassy look
Behind your eyes,
Confused.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Often I feel lost,
Completely out of words.
The heat swells up inside
The afternoon storm clouds.
My ideas bubble to the surface
Only to evaporate
Like the roiling summer steam.
I fight and focus
To retain my grip
On the only claim to greatness
I ever had a shot at.
Like all struggles
It can never be easy.
The forced reflections give me little relief.
I am no stranger to futility.
It is to my credit I still care.
The words fall flat,
But at least I dared to try.
This is my honest side.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Somewhere I lost sight
Of all the landmarks once knew,
The mile markers that gave me hope
But made me blue.
Now I have nothing left but this fright
I once thought I had outgrown.
I guess all of my lies
Really were untrue
Go figure
I had it all
Even the ones I missed along
The voyage that created this song.
I wish that you were here.
You know I wish.
That’s something.
Maybe it’s better than nothing
Better than all these words
Better than empty.
You know I wish you could join me
But I guess it wasn’t
Meant to be.
What a pity
What a drag
What a bitch.
I have to start all over
From nothing
Sometimes it’s better than something.
Sometimes when I sit here quietly
I worry so much
Gray invades everything I see.
I think it must be time
To free up the past
To let it go at last
You know
Like it was nothing
When everyone know it was something.
What do you think?
Should we float,
Or are we doomed to sink?
The whole world will be gone in just a blink.
What do you think?
I wish we’d never met.
I was never meant to have a family.
I am so blind.
You speak.
 
I wish I could hear you.
I wish I could be near you.
You are such a freak
It’s like we were meant to seek
The ending
Free
And only too free.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Forsaken by a true love
 I wander aimlessly
Misguided and abandoned.
I look for another source
For that emotional fix
I so crave,
But she eludes me.
What must I do to make her see?
Flesh and spirit succor
All but I.
Maybe a fairy’s tale could seduce.
If only I had not declared a truce
With the devil;
I can not lie.
Mourn.
I am so shy.
On a grand scale:
The war…
The lives lost…
And in exchange…
Nothing.
A few minutes.
Naïve.
Less than I’d hoped for
Less than I want
All of the misrepresentations are a front
Meant only to bring her back.
But I live here
In this hermits’ shack.
 
 
 
 
I missed you so much
After you went away.
Where did you go?
What was I supposed to say?
 
Another poem destroyed by the devil alcohol.
Never to be finished
Never to make much sense.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I don’t know what was discussed at the party…
 I can’t remember,
 But everyone else does.
They all feel pain
When they hear the words of my refrain.
The commands (I dreaded)
From beyond the grave,
Pounded down into me
Ruthlessly.
Neutrality fell by
The mercenary’s path
And left me
Wanting
 
 
 
Why do the lies make sense
 To me, but no one else?
I find it hard to break --
 The wall of mindless drivel.
It won't mean anything
 - NONE OF THIS -
 When the axe falls.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
 A new lease on life
 A new vantage point...
 Nah!
 A disadvantage.
Just like everyone else.
I wonder what my friends would say.
 
The gentleman that remains declines
To take part in your celebrations,
Your dance with material contentment.
All I have left is resentment
For you
And all that you stand for,
But still I hunger for more.
Is there anything left
After insatiable greed has gone?
I woke up alone at dawn
Today
Like every other day.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The emptiness stares back at me
 Happy to have its way with my conscience.
Flashes of lucidity plague my efforts
 To rid myself of conscious thought;
 All the effort comes to naught.
Nothing, in the end,
 That's what is mine.
I am trapped inside of guilt's
 Snug confines.
Welcome to the great endless blank.
Recognize zero:
 It's like money in the bank.
All the cheesy rhymes
 Do little to stop the advance of time...
 In the mirror my face is worn,
Battered and bruised by constant tribulation,
 And guilt is my consternation.
Oh how I long to wake up
 Free of my history's chains.
I am locked to ignorance and disdain.
 I haven't much else to say
 
 
The net closes in
 I can feel it constrict
All around me, tighten
 Stealer of freedom
Mourn for the free spirit
Nothing will ever be the same
 * again *
I wonder how it happened
 Trickery, lies
 My workshop
The desk where magic aspires
 To become reality, alas
Bitter fantasy, betray
All of my essence disobeys
 No excuses, no remorse
 Never a more dangerous course
Offers of aid, compassion
 Declined
What insanity possessed my mind?
 Once... I knew
 But now...
I don't even find it odd.
 The sickening cycle, the spell
 A sliver of my twisted essence
A measure of my melancholic tide
 In disarray confide
 The errors of obscene nuance.
The nod to stygian influence
 Becomes a bow
 Then on to empty vows.
Be sure total awareness
 Knows the difference
Between sincerity
 And that which possesses me.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Never once opened
That forever cursed gate
Doorway to an eternity of hate
Never once dared
To tempt the tide of uncertain fate
What for?
This pathetic life is so simple.
 
So many of the masters fear
The approach of their demise
Try to stop it or try to hide
As death draws near
And away with the seconds time flies.
To doom I say
"Come forth, step inside"
I am ready, come what may.
 
Hush now, history, hush
Carry my name down with you
When at last you breathe your last
Tell no one what you knew
And no matter
All things become one with the past.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Tide
 
Roaring ocean waves
Pounding into sandy beaches
Peaceful lullaby sound
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Down in the quiet place
Where the earth mother sleeps
Water laps away at her tomb
On the rocks of the ancient shore
I am sorry
 But I couldn't find out any more.
There are those who did not
 Want me to know
The secrets nature keeps
The knowledge so many seek
Quest forgotten in the arms
 Of irresistible lore
The earth mother sleeps
 Nature maturing inside her womb
 Even the fittest can not keep the pace
 On the race to freedom
 The ultimate prize
 I have seen it with my own two eyes.
 
So I believe
 By now everyone knows
How I gained a welcome reprieve,
 Though I was swept off my toes...
I allowed the female to conceive.
Do you know what that shows?
I am old before my time,
And our world pays more mind
To the deception
 The decorum.
 Didn't you know?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Look at all the plastic people
With sightless eyes and hearts of stone
Whose twisted little chessboard minds
Wonder where their souls are gone.
 
 
 
 
Incidents of Activity in the Country
 
Winds blow with the left over strength of winter storms
Across fields emerging into summer.
The sound of the gales remind you of loss,
And all the younger days, gone and buried.
The streams rage with snow-melt fury,
Yearning to jump their banks, to prolong their lives.
The fish fly upstream, racing with the current
Yet never gaining on the elusive comfort,
Those untroubled waters just ahead
Always only just ahead.
The nearby forests catch fire and burn,
Spreading a wonderful odor
To the creatures of the field who take comfort in the warmth,
And noxious fumes
To those that flee in instinctive terror.
Night falls on a scene of unclimactic joy.
 
The rays of the new sun slip into the sky
Spreading over a scene of darkness
Darkness without shadows
The blackness of destruction.
Birds flit on the air,
Finding their homes gone.
The streams bear witness as man spreads like a disease
And one finds his way here.
He kneels on the ground
And feels pain at his death.
 
Nature recovers its own,
Reason replaced by instinct,
Concept replaced by method
Love by hate.
The creature learns to hunt, and kill,
And draws gashes into the ground,
So weary is he of the gathering.
The sun sets again and again.
The man encounters mate
And conceives his continuance beneath the moon.
In his death he is replaced
By a new man, who in turn grows fierce,
Yet cannot continue his own presence,
He has no mate.
Time is marked only by stretching
A virgin forest awakening.
Starry skies and windy fields
Its ungraspable lovers.
Jealousy springs to life,
A pain in his breast, searing his mind.
Thoughts of resolution enter
That black pit of thoughts.
He will not live long,
But his name will go on
At least
In hatred on the mouth of the wind.
 
Lightning flashes in the jet black sky.
The winds whip grass of the small fields,
Creating an ocean of imagination.
Watch the sea of life.
The man wades through it,
Feeling he has been here before,
A ship on the waters of destiny.
The streams contentedly meander.
Below the surface silver steaks
Gleam as the fish struggle
To rid themselves of water.
The creatures of the field
Play deadly games of chase.
Blood flows from one
Who didn’t run quickly enough.
The trees stand as sentinels.
Nothing escapes discovery.
The breaking of a twig,
The rustle of leaves,
A man stalking,
Ever so smoothly he completes his task.
A spark in the darkness
Flames springing into existence,
Flourishing with devastation.
The earth and wind scream
As their child is killed again.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Warm summer winds
Blow through shady trees,
Lending a comfortable air
To winding country roads and straight country towns.
You find yourself shifting your feet through the dust.
Can you feel the road beneath your feet?
The rocks are firm, assuring, but harsh.
The earth your friend and enemy.
The rocks and streams you encounter
Punctuate the rural landscape.
Walks throught the heart of the land.
The warm winds have witnessed
Walks down through the ages.
They will be there for ages to come
After the trees have died,
The springs have ceased to flow,
The rocks have crumbled,
And man is gone forever.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Osmosis
 
I hang suspended above one of the many rifts in my reality.
The rope around my ankle breaks and I plummet through
the membrane separating matter and energy. My body
dissolves in a cascade of light. Diffusing and expanding
I grow to permeate all. Spread so thinly across the fabric
of the is. My mind is simply a pocket of surface tension,
a tiny bubble in the sea of existence. Like a dilated pupil
exposed to a strobe my conscience contracts. Pulling inwards
away from external contact, shrinking from the touch of the
outside. Reduced to a small sphere I am fired through a
tube of light at unimaginable speed, flying through the space
between inside and out. I am thrust through the barrier to
impact upon “reality”. I exist now, as before, apart from my
fellow man.
It’s cold out here.
 
 
 
 
 
Etchings of a mountain
 Seen through the mist.
A black conical uprising
 Surrounded by emerald beauty
Yet consuming the perfection
 Like a strengthening sickness.
 
A figure of a man
 Minute against a smoky cliff,
But a giant among people
 A picture of physical perfection,
Determination exuded from every pore
 And endurance a willing partner.
 
The human climbs,
 Sounds of exertion float on currents.
The blackness stifles strength, perhaps.
 This deception a subtlety
Felt, unseen
 Screaming in the subconscious.
 
The lower portion scaled
 And remembered as nothing.
Then the man stands
 Elation and superiority sweep,
Weaving the bitterest snare
 Obvious, but in the end inescapable.
 
The ledge crumbles
 And a figure tossed by the winds,
Tossed into emptiness,
 Awareness fades
When at last he returns to the beginning level.
 A call issues through the land
Deceptively true in its tone.
The mountain’s eternal invitation
Heard by another
With upward yearning
Power corruptible.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Here he is, his dying day.
He doesn’t really know what to say,
Though in the end he knows he must pay
For all his life’s atrocities.
 
Most of his life has been a lie
And now his time has come to die.
Now all he wants to do is cry
Because of what he could have had.
 
That his life was long is surely true,
Yet nothing at all did he pursue,
And the things he did for himself were few
Among all the chances he was given.
 
His younger years he spent in school
Leaning nothing and acting real cool.
For pleasure’s sake he broke the rules
And found himself the lesser for it.
 
In his middle years he worked very hard
Trying to repair his honor scarred,
But from the good life he had been barred
By youthful stupidity.
 
Many years later he found the rum,
Though he needed it not to make his mind numb.
For too many years of paying his sum
Had already left him in that state of mind.
 
Here it is, his dying day
He thinks that he really must pray
Before there is no time left for change.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Enlightenment and Reality
 
Once, a long time ago,
I thought that reality had a conflict with my being
That reality and I had a problem getting along.
The truth of the matter is that I am real
And therefore there can be no conflict between myself and reality.
This leads to enlightenment.
Enlightenment is the idea that since reality and I get along just fine
We might as well do it in broad daylight.
I still may question whether or not I am real.
If I weren’t that might lead to a new conflict with reality.
To justify to my own satisfaction that I am real
Will require defining a few terms.
The self, in my own small opinion,
Is my spirit, my soul.
This spirit is currently inextricably linked to my body.
That is not to say that I and my body can only be the same thing,
But that it is not my self if it isn’t linked to my body.
Moving right along,
Reality is the connection between my self and my body.
I am only real and alive if my self and body
Are linked in such a way as to provide me
With a conscious set of experiences
Meaning the sensory continuum divided into
Sight, smell, touch, taste and hearing.
That is not to say that I would not be real
If deprived of one or two of these senses
But that I would only be me if I had at least one or two of them.
If these connections were severed I might truly be enlightened
I might have slipped over into a void reality
Consisting only of memories of past experiencial continuums
And hope for future ones.
Void can also be defined as the globe of human continuity,
The planet we live on as pertaining to a visible cycle
Of ongoing physical existence.
Heaven is being alive in a physical reality
Linked to the soul and the self.
Hell is being so enlightened
You see reality as it really is/was,
In the robust overflowing light of knowing that it isn’t yours anymore.
Contrary to a misconception spread by such agencies of weakness
As religion and government
Heaven nor hell are neither permanent nor irrevocable.
Heaven and hell are both by choice.
If you become too enlightened
You may have to let some of it back out into the void
So you can return to your tangible reality
Your body-self-experiencial continuum.
Once, a long time ago, I was enlightened,
But it was an accident.
I didn’t realize the bliss I was hoping for
Would only lead me to see the more conscious oriented bliss
I was leaving behind.
In conclusion
I’ll have my reality with the lightbulb in my brain off.
Thank you.
Going sane
Or
Cave drawings on reality’s wall.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Is standing alone the fate of one
Who burns beneath the baneful sun
Damned to see while others walk blind
Only to die the last of his kind
 
Is a poet the last on earth
To see a tear for what it’s worth
To know the price and joys of pain
Lie within the realm of the sane
 
In the emptiness of the night
Who is wrong and who is right
When at last there’s nothing left
‘Cept dreams of hell and blood and death
 
The masses may rejoice at last
For it seems the poet’s age is past
The poet inside the man shall die
For no one hears the poets cry.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The Summer Blues
 
I’ve got the summer boredom blues.
There’s nothing much to do
But walk around without my shoes
And look for something new.
 
Guess I’ll walk to see my friend
Perhaps he has some clues
For some exciting scheme to end
These boring summer blues.
 
®
 
 
 
Paranoia
 
The night was cold.
The air was thick.
I couldn’t see a thing.
But I felt bold
With my big stick,
Whatever night may bring.
 
I turned around.
My eyes opened wide.
I heard this funny noise.
The eerie sound
Was near my side.
Could it be one of the boys?
 
I breathed a sigh
Of deep relief
As I saw through the fog.
My gasping cry
However brief
Was wasted on a dog.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Autumn oak trees blow
Golden, red and orange leaves
Hueing azure skies
 
 
 
welcome to the brewery
room after room
filled with gadgets, hatches and seals
follow, traipse alongside
crystal method plays on the wharf
outside in the x turning monopoly
a violent effort to chase the sound
that suffocates
this is the wedding party
for my sister, her best friend
and way too many people
the street was full when the police came
they made everyone move
some ran through the brush
others across the rough current
into the water
swallow it down
down the river
down the boardwalk
then back into the crowd
money passing person to person
a plan, an execution, an escape
and there never is a resolution
because I woke up then
remembering
“the son of a bitch resolved to be anonymous”
whatever that means
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
the house suffered from a caterpillar infestation
the dawn came in layered tones
black rolled over red
botanical technology all down the way
thorns in my thighs
blood down the insides, dripping
warm coagulated futility
that feeling you nor I can describe
even if we may
the quagmire of bullshit
lies and ill intentions
to hell with them all
ride me then
ulterior pleasantry
can such what?
I think we all know
even you
in your blue daze
wilted and thirsty
ride with me then!
 
dogs in the morning
dogs all the time
decibel alarms
on the slow ascent to consciousness
what a sight
a black man in a wheelchair
going in opposition [goeth] to traffic
screaming curses at the world
screameth
all unintelligible
waving his arms wildly
the dogs didn’t like that
 
on the corner with the boys
staking the claim
“a piece of space in the summertime”
security at the outer edges
of protecting persecution
but we all decline
ignorance vs. ignoring
 
 
 
 
 
Trails
 
Endless highway winds
In yellow-striped black, curving
Through mountain passes.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Economic slavery
Partaking in sexual acts for drugs
Pleasure allows the slaves an outlet
An end to the tension of the hardships
At first people all got high
And enjoyed the inexpensive pleasures of the body
Until the owners all stepped in
And declared pleasure to be forbidden.
The dearest pleasures of an otherwise empty existence
Were stripped by violence and discipline.
Even the babies that were made
Had no soothing effect on the parents.
Babies born with nothing
Never to have anything under the rule of their owners.
The authorities were never concerned.
Children have always been expendable.
The authorities had long ago been taught
To be inoffensive and obedient to the owner class.
Slavery means never having any privacy.
Secrets can be dangerous
The owners tried to eliminate secrecy
But they could not.
A few slaves tried writing down complaints.
When they were caught they were beaten.
Repeat offenders were tortured to death.
The writing stopped.
Slaves once again became devoted.
The closer the end of the world drew
The more frantic their obedience became.
When the earth slowly sank into the sun
All of it had been for nothing.
 
 
 
 
Santa sweeps the chimnies out
As he down them sldes.
Being plump and very stout,
He rubs against the sides.
His bottom turns to sooty gray.
He coughs and then he sputters,
“What a way to earn my pay!
I should come through the shutters!”
Yet every year he’s back again
To sweep our chimnies clean,
And though the soot is quite a pain
He’s never ever mean.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I want you to touch yourself
Pull back the folds and
Show the world
The greedy secrets
Kept hidden underneath
Family jewels stashed in a sow’s ear
Catch them in a kerchief
And cast them to the wind
Town of sorceror’s delight
Open to the four corners
All of the wild winds come through
To divert as each season turns
The bitter old man from the north
Returns with ague for all
Shiver and moan from the task at hand
The herald anounces fall.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Swamp Majesty
 
Tree
Tall, strong
Shiver, quiver, bend
Need, love, awe, care
Cypress
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Musical Horizons
 
Put a record on to spin.
Turn the lights down low.
Think of all the places we’ve been.
Let the music flow!
Through your mind and into space
Let your spirits soar.
Disappear without a trace.
Never leave the floor,
Then come back for more.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
The Hunt
 
As I was walking down the trail,
I saw a deer and lots of quail.
My gun was ready, so I thought was I.
But no shot fired; I wouldn’t see them die!
 
The trail grew narrow further down.
I rustled leaves upon the ground.
The sound was thunder in my ear.
I dropped my gun and hunting gear.
 
I froze myself right in my track.
I heard a noise behind my back,
Then whirled around to glimpse a sight
Of a bear as big and black as night.
 
I stared at him, he stared at me.
Dare I move, or would he see?
How I trembled in my shoes
To know that I, alone, must choose.
 
My knees were rubber as I bent.
I prayed he wouldn’t catch my scent.
I slowly stooped to get my gun,
Though I really wanted just to run.
 
Our eyes were locked onto each other.
I couldn’t breathe; would I smother?
I slowly straightened with the rifle.
To shoot a black bear is no trifle.
 
Surely, calmly, I took my aim.
This black bear would be my game.
Courage grew as knees quit shaking.
If only my back and arm weren’t aching.
 
Then the wind, as if sensing us,
Came swooping in with belching gusts.
He caught my scent, I knew he had.
He glared and growled, looking mad.
 
Then darn it all, as if by fate,
He seemed to smile and hesitate.
The black bear turned, I watched him go.
Who was the victor? We’ll never know.
Procrastination
 
The day draws near before we know it.
If we aren’t careful we will blow it,
For we put off all through the weeks long
What we know we must do, which is wrong.
Then while we play the weeks speed by.
We must do it now. It’s do or die!
Why, oh why, do we hesitate?
Why do we procrastinate?
Because we follow, to our sorrow,
Don’t do today what you can do tomorrow.
 
 
 
 
 
Bluebell
 
Graceful bluebell
Tell me your tale.
Whisper softly,
Sweetness tell me.
While I listen,
Lightly glisten.
Sun rays dancing.
Blue bell prancing.
Blissful flower,
Sharing power.
Pretty treasure
Giving pleasure!
 
 
 
 
 
Elves of the dawn world
Learned that life was bright but short
In a land that wasn’t theirs.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Sacrifice
 
Cut pieces from the victims’ flesh
To feed the animals of the forest.
The call has been made
For piety and salvation,
While the infant cries for his mother.
Prepare the child.
The flames grow higher and hungry
Until it is time to pass the baby through
And hold the spent charcoal to the sky.
Dismembered grace reaches out from the grave
Wanting only a reason.
Another murder for the greater good.
Another lie to the ignorant droves.
Come and bathe in the blood of the innocents.
The festival of gore spills out into the streets
Where children are torn from screaming mothers
To become a grisly feast for the crowd.
Those that must be punished
Hang upside down over low coals
Screaming and begging for death.
The heads of the departed
Top poles lining the roads
For miles into the countryside.
All travelers will know
They have come one place too far.
The lungs of the strongest men
Simmer in the sauce pans
Of my personal cook.
All will receive small portions of the blessed meal
With great gratitude and appreciation.
The tasty slivers of alveoli
Grant power to those who dare.
Tired of the old gods
They have been slain
And scattered to the wind.
I am the god now.
Wine and blood drip like honey
From the skull of my greatest enemy,
And I drink to his demise.
The potion is sweet to the taste.
The widows of the sacrificed
Cast themselves into the fires
Choosing death over subjugation.
Those who live on will serve well,
And there are always plenty more
To replace the ones that have gone.
The festival spirals out of control.
All is as it should be.
No home goes untouched by the celebration.
The coming years will bring prosperity
And fertility,
And the dead have no complaints to tell.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Rocky crags of stone
Hanging above streambeds blue
harbor life unseen
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Anyone with first-hand knowledge

Of all the rapes and murders

That took place in public places

In front of large crowds

Will have no doubts

About people's basic worthlessness.

Entertain the masses.

It's the fastest way to become a millionaire.

Think like the crowd.

Sell your soul.

Another reason

For another starving artist,

Another pathetic excuse.

Painful childhood

Disturbed memories

Traumatic experiences

Cry me a river

Poor baby

Now is now and not yesterday

So what are you going to do?

Weep and weep and slobber

Your excuses on someone else,

You adenoidal basket case.

Once I was exactly like you

Which is why I hate you,

And will be glad when you die.

When did it become okay to be like me?

When did it become fashionable

To be a freak in the sunlight?

Of all the sights most detested,

The posers with sadomasochistic flair

Sicken me the most.

I can only imagine,

They have no true experiences to reveal.

Give me fifteen minutes

And they would be ashamed of their existence.

Give me an hour and they would never be free

Again.

I take boys.

I'll call up some homophobic skinheads

To take good care of them.

C'est la vie.

Aurevoir.

Have you checked out

My latest piercing?

A dumbbell

Straight through my heart.

Top that

teenie-boppers.

I finally got that Gothic chick

With all the shit in her face,

And the smile that lighted up

When I talked about hurting her.

It was quite fine.

She loved every second of the pain,

As did I.

"This will hurt me more..."

I could not love her.

She was too pure for me.

Another half-assed lie.

The truth was that the big man got scared

When everything fit too well.

It fit perfectly.

My personal favorite:

The devil made me do it.

That's great, sir or ma'am.

Tell us where this devil is

So we can go arrest him.

Pathetic.

Never trust categories.

This is not an excuse.

This is a boast.

Anyone who can follow this act

In honesty

Deserves my subservience.

I am very confident

Such a thing could never take place.

If it did,

Well,

Master or Mistress,

What would you have me do?

Be careful,

This thing before you bites,

And always draws blood.

Infection will set in,

And amputation will be

Inevitable.

You boys out there wouldn't want that,

Now would you?

You ladies need never fear.

That which you possess

Is the finest treasure

The world has ever known.

Bite?

Never.

Worship would be more likely.

The finest things

Can only be described

Through sensation.

If you got the cold fish

You had a lapse in judgment.

I think warm honey

Better describes the experience.

Pick more carefully

The next time a chance presents itself.

Even my close friends tell me

That I am too public.

I have no other explanation for that

Than my fondness for humiliation.

I love to get caught,

Or caught up.

What's your excuse?

The devil made you do it?

Or was it a lesser devil?

Formidable linguistic adversary

That I am

(glottal stop),

Surely there are better excuses than that.

Psycopathia sexualis

Algolagnia

Dear me...

Did I stake that claim,

Make satyrism my personal game?

So come better than that.

Come with paraphilia,

Amphieroticism,

The love that dare not speak its name,

Or something else of substance.

Come with fricatrice,

Or boondagger,

Or scotophiliac, or...

Do you think I have a problem?

Higgledy har.

I like this game.

The best toys

Are the ones that are

The most difficult to kill.

Thank you, Mr. Wheadon,

For your insight and genius.

Yet an afternoon

In the company of Mr. Davis

And Mr. Coltrane

Relieve me of all concerns;

This is the finest exhibition

Of the human spirit.

My entire life is baddable.

Take that away

And suicide is the only option.

In the wake of all this examined discourse

Impotent, perverted neuter

Would probably be the diagnosis

With the most votes.

If only that were true.

The wind blows and the sails furl,

Never at half mast.

It is a curse,

Not a blessing.

Imagine hunting with a lance

That never breaks.

The beast of venery dies,

But the lance keeps poking,

Over and over,

Like a mindless necrophiliac.

-philia, my favorite additive.

It's all about love, I tell you.