Ce jour-ci, sur une plage de galet, 

Etait admiré un sinistre spectacle

Echoué tel un divin miracle

Gisait la carcasse d'un noyé

L'étrange épave, vêtue de lambeaux carmins

Dévoilait boyaux et intestins

Rongés par les vagues et le sel

Et sa peau d'albatre blanchie par le gel

Chauffait le coeur des mouettes vagabondes

Tandis que crabes et algues foulaient ce paysage immonde

Proche, à l'odeur, des cloyères


Et si l'on s'approchait de ce déchet putride, 

Si l'on écarte les nuées de mouche

Il verrait deux orbites vides

Et un sourire de char sur la sinistre bouche.

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Parade of Despair

Through the wet and rainy streets,
Cloaked in the liar's contacts. and bloody sheets
You know not of where you go,
But the blood you walk over and sew.

In this time, you believe you are okay,
Okay with murder that goes throughout the day
Through the homeless cries and terror
It's not your life or your own error

What's another's heart to hold in your hand mean?
If it doesn't give you the satisfaction and the attention of a queen?
Maybe somewhere, within your sickest dreams
Perhaps piercing the thickness, you can hear humanity screams
and in some part of your mind you care,
Or fail again, laughing maniacally as the blood drips in cold despair

Somehow, their commotion to you is entertaining
The bickering and troubles all the more sustaining
and yet somewhere, deep down, you realize it's not right.
But the sickness blinds you again, back again in the fright

Morality is like your brother, inside your mind, telling you it's wrong
But your voice cries out more louder, constantly crying, "But do I belong?"
and the shadow creeps in control of your hands and strikes again,
Like an old friend you've parted with that was poison, comes back attempting to explain

They say you are fine and you will be okay.
Like you say, except you are actually mentally astray
As the hand of sickness inside your mind plans out the next move
In reality you are empty, she says you have nothing to prove

The disgusting woman that is called society
Bringing forth what you tell others is anxiety
She holds you tight, like a incoherent mother
Whispering to you as she smothers you "There is no other"

Somehow throughout all that you have, depression calls,
Your father, comes to tell you "Despite the beautiful colors, you live within empty walls"
You cry for them to stop speaking
But they stop for none, they continue their horrid shrieking

As you fall to the ground, you try to escape by sleeping,
But it's only for a few hours, and time is weeping
You try to deny the things that you have mean and done
You salute to the cracked, and broken blurred skies of failure, and with it a black sun
Forever bringing a slanted shadow, that was once you, pleading "Bring me back, this wasn't really fun"

You yearn for something deep down, but without purpose for some reason
and your faces change again and again, like the months and the season
You know not anymore of what the world means to you
Forever alone you will be, cursed, trapped in your built igloo.

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“how beautiful is the silence of growing things
in a place full of even deader things?
the soft roots of innocent herbs
poke through the rotten flesh
and curl around the dirty bones
of forgotten ancestors
that deserved better than this.” And
all of this underneath the rubber soles
of a young girl’s Sunday shoes,
scuffed white surrounding curled baby toes.
Her world watches as she jumps from rock to rock,
lining the winding road as it leads out.
And she laughs at herself,
dark curls bouncing with her. Again she wonders,
“how blind are the sunken eyes
of those who stopped looking? the flies buzz
and run their tiny feet all over
the stiff, unfeeling organs
of ancient lovers from a different land, different time.
if they could see now, they’d just see rotting wood,
the unsightly view we condemn all our expired kind to-
maybe that’s why they stopped looking, closed their eyes.”
She smiles, and the old breeze
chills her crooked teeth, stirs her Sunday dress,
black and white against her bony knees.
And she tells herself-
“It is just his body that lingers,
falling victim to natural defamation;
his soul floats on to a truer place,
full of grander memories.”
For she cannot afford to think in any other way.

Mortal Philanthropy

Coagulation blood flow 

stagnant clot confirmed, 
constricted tendons twisting,
breathing has deferred. 
mortis beckons rigor 
and swollen is a tongue 
that spoke on many levels,  
whose words are down to none. 
exposed to earthly prowess 
to disregard the flesh 
for better serve the soil 
then a life lived in distress.
 Saved in hatchling larva 
the flies have surely won, 
my contributions to the world made, 
through decomposition

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Evil Man In The Mirror


Evil man in the mirror, what are you doing here? Did you come for my little brother? He is in his room sleeping. He doesn't like you, you know? Why do you look so ugly Mr.? What happened to you? Why wont you talk? I demand you speak to me what is your name? I can't understand you, you are gurgling too much. What are you here for? Give me some kind of sign. Why are you pointing at me? Do you want to be my friend? I don' care if you're ugly. "Aaaahhh!" I will be right back my brother must have had a nightmare. Stay put now.........(5 min later)....I'm back Where did you go? You're not in the mirror anymore. Fine be that way. Hmph! "Come here" Is that you ugly man? "Come here" Okay, I am coming, geez. Where are you at? "Over here" I think I see you behind the shower curtain. "Come" I'm coming...and you're not in the bathtub. Stop playing games. "No over here" Gasp! Don't hide behind the closet door like that! You're getting guts everywhere! Ugh! What's that in your hand? "Your brother's middle finger" Oh no no no! Where is he you bastard?! "I ate him, and I need more.." You're crazy! This can't be happening! "Just relax, it will only hurt for a little bit" Noooooooooooo!Get off of me! OUCH! AAAHHHHHHH! I beg you I am only 12 years old! Aaahhhh! Mom! Dad! God! Help! I am being murdered! Help, help, help me, he---............

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