Fascinated...
by this caustic vexation
an unending torential rain
of sorts...
I grip desperately, the handle
which explores me
and I bend to the hand
which holds my plee.
Falling down, still falling
groveling at the feet
something near, unchained
demons -I will retreat...
in my chaos and oblivion-
my fear...
something very softly unspoken
invades my itching ear.
If I should have the answers
and focus on the clarity
these lies unspoken have
their rarity.
Truth be told...
I search till sanity's end.
At my masters will
I begin again...denied
with this denial
I again bend in the trial
fascinated by edges of
roughened lives that claim
I submit to that
which has no name.
failure will come in
repititions of thousands or more
in names so saccarine
pronounce the whore
fascinated by the fascination of
without and there within
drawn by the hopeless
power of men
brought to the reality of
nothing attained
life that is meaningless
a perfect stain
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
No pretty way to say it
No pretty way to say these things, no pretty way to pose
I watched this happen right under my hands, under my nose
I watched it work its filthy magic just as it always did
slowly and precisely, it packed the can and closed the lid
It was perfected, as any evil thing would be
I watched it reach into its pocket hiding the key
No pretty words could be spoken from such putrid lips
Quietly that pretty thing, from reality, it slips
I guess in time, in gardens, pretty things may grow again
And maybe on the wind, a pretty breeze may blow away my sin
And finally there may an enlightening answer
to every form of chaos binding cancer.
I watched this happen right under my hands, under my nose
I watched it work its filthy magic just as it always did
slowly and precisely, it packed the can and closed the lid
It was perfected, as any evil thing would be
I watched it reach into its pocket hiding the key
No pretty words could be spoken from such putrid lips
Quietly that pretty thing, from reality, it slips
I guess in time, in gardens, pretty things may grow again
And maybe on the wind, a pretty breeze may blow away my sin
And finally there may an enlightening answer
to every form of chaos binding cancer.
Our sentence, our answer....no guilt.
And she said
"I want it quick, quick
as the answer
the sure answer to
all questions...ended."
And she said
"I don't want this
human condition, and
no one understands."
I was her breath to reason
when no reason existed,
her ear to the answer.
And the voices beside me said
"Dive from the deep end when
you know you cannot swim.
Watch the flesh move and
expand."
"You will understand that
there is more reason than this."
And she said
"A pile of flesh, it wouldn't be
my fault, If you answer it for me."
"My legacy is to die and I want
it to end quickly after the verdict."
One breath, she said, then gone.
And she asked...
"Is that so wrong?"
"I want it quick, quick
as the answer
the sure answer to
all questions...ended."
And she said
"I don't want this
human condition, and
no one understands."
I was her breath to reason
when no reason existed,
her ear to the answer.
And the voices beside me said
"Dive from the deep end when
you know you cannot swim.
Watch the flesh move and
expand."
"You will understand that
there is more reason than this."
And she said
"A pile of flesh, it wouldn't be
my fault, If you answer it for me."
"My legacy is to die and I want
it to end quickly after the verdict."
One breath, she said, then gone.
And she asked...
"Is that so wrong?"
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