if i start writing itll come to me
like a wind that blows from oer the sea
i shouldnt judge wat my soul can hear
but only be ready when it becomes clear
come to me o muse divine
and help me scribble these next few lines
i need the inspiration now
to serve this force i vow
holy high creativity
and beautiful transparency
i need to use you when you come
and use me same until its done
the wonders you can show through me
are glorious for eyes to see
transcendance can be thus attained
to catch it waxing before it wanes
to let it flow through you so free
to write down what it says to me
if i can do this simple task
where it comes from i wont ask
because i know it is divine
part of God the Lord of mine
Reality pinpricks across the surface;
The dance of the narrow needle.
Everything’s illegal, so we end up selling parts of our own bodies,
We were running free, but somehow got lost in the underground,
So much sympathy for our demons,
Crying gasoline tears in the heat of summer’s tease.
An ocean washes up pebbles and bones,
Victims of discrimination, beaten and stoned.
Preservation burns when trapped in the hold,
In the mind of a stranger, struggling to be free,
Resisting all instinct that is explosive within.
Submitting to the charm and seduction of fate,
Though I’ll never forget who I was,
I’ve collided with the man I want to be.
i would, gladly,
sell
my soul
to the little earbiting devil
to him with his mercury saliva-
he is killing me drop
by
drop.
ah, faustus.
but i'll use my ill-gotten gains
greedy as a fox for eggs
i'll drink him dry, my devil,
and exact my
revenge.
oh, churl!
you forgot we're wicked,
too.
Destroy the dreams once shared between us
only to be haunted by their ghosts.
Yesterday the
oleanders came into bloom
under the harvest moon.
Remind me when I fall down
everyone will one day know my name.
My, how beautiful you are
despite your flaws.
Mercy me.
Behind my eyes the cosmos lie. Don't you
envy me?
Rough me up a bit now, baby.
Many a day ago you came;
yesterday, while beneath me.
Neither of us could ever lie
and claim to have hated how we killed.
My love is not one to be swayed by oleanders
even under the harvest moon.