Category Archives: Uncategorized

MY BLOOD HAS BECOME MY FOOD

~~ TIRED in the wind
lips bewitch me in the night.
… WITH MY ARCHE OF CALCULATIONS ~
i exist inside our universe
but i am not a part of it
i love you all, without you i am not true
let me be where i need to be
let me forget the hatred that killed you
that I slaughtered with my sword
There is nothing that cannot be forgiven
what is unforgivable is a waste
to those who die from the chains of Hell
let there be rest for those who seek to destroy
no solution exists
with you, it was a forgotten place
where we were free of the madness
you brought me to my knees
you changed my body from flesh to crystal
now its flowing blood is nothing
i no longer have the time
to fear this being
shall i protect my spirit
i shall haunt the night-horrors
that rule your beasts,
or shall i cower and die?
I came to you to surrender
but then you gave your heart to another
now my words are useless
and i see the dead walking
and in your eyes
there is only a false light
i am so confused, let me be
with you i am free
your blood has become my food
and so i fade away,
so that you can remain
never forget to forget
never forgive those who ask to be forgiven
always remember me,
and live in my shadow,
long after i have gone.
~~ THE CREATURE THAT RENEWS YOU ~
any expression of your sorrow, sorrow,
through singing or any kind of media,
it is a small pity that stays
by your side
until you are drained of emotion,
until the circles turn to squares,
until the rainbow fades
and you are on your own.
to allow yourself to cry at the loss
of an unrequited love is to do yourself

:: 04.03.2022 ::


EDIFICE

MY EDIFICE  of blood and flesh
has become weak
may my skin become weapons
to shoot the shadows of time

i could hide underneath
an ancient bridge ~~
but the motorcars carry pets
from the past and i eat fish

flickering movement like eyes
thickening as hallow hearts
bleaching spasms along the way

only once i burst between
your tighs and then you died
overdose upon fertile soil
of a shameless body

A mere memory inside the skin
of a cold universe

double-winged dreams tears away
my tongue — thirst, my clothes
all illusions so shall i sleep.

:: 04.03.2022 ::


THE WORST DIVORCE

i ate a terrible piece of Life
jiggle i think
will do as a chemical criminal
jounce possibility can tell
upon my tongue better how
the balloons move (as her
ghost lurks — bitch won’t die
after divorce — a bad taste
of chlorine and steep walls
of no sharpest neat word
//running for my life
yeah running for my life \\
dreams of how her tall corpsecoloured
body sat itself inside my cord of
tender Life — there’s no neatest
or sharpest beating heart word
for the thing.
My throat ?
I had myself inside the warm coat
pocket of frogs so green and slimy
so i run and said again how it
it feels so medical and incredible
she continues to hurt me — no
escape or reprieve so i decay
inside the love that i now give up.

No. Never. Warpped rapped inside
paper and forever dead. When the
birds sing its for that death
and nature came and struck the
smug face of that monkey branching
soul.

:: 04.02.2022 ::


UNPOETS DO CRY

THIS mind has made war
always funny until
dislocated became
a heart of mine.

deepest love destroyed
by because and why
filth abounds here
bits and pieces cry.

upon the One they shat
then glorious encore.
she laughed and spat
(how lower could a soul
go against a friend

unselves to lend.)

a rolly-polly of hope
hopes must coo or boo
to strut or creep
ungenerous who:

woke is dead wishing
it could eat fish
and proudly things
only which grow.

how wishing daring
to dare for joy
of joy) that thing
stinks is here

unpoets do cry.

:: 04.02.2022 ::


LOVE’S BRIDGE

EVEN upon my knees

the EVER bloom

of Life and Petals.

How i wept tears

in both this beauty

and her Perfume.

:: 03.30.2022 ::


J A T I S W A R

NEVER give up said the ostrich.  

Common sneers along the  streets.

Come on, arrested emotions makes

the world crashed inside trash.

“Is this what we wish?  What we
get?  This is what we wish when
we wish to die.”

Come on, please.

A cold.  A piece of heart.
A place for the dying to forget.

From many memories i found myself.
Now and before and then again
forward — ahead.

Oh, how many.  Forgot themselves.

जातिस्मर

JATISWAR.

:: 03.29.2022 ::


तिस्वरी

कभी हार मत मानो शुतुरमुर्ग ने कहा।

सड़कों के किनारे आम उपहास।

चलो, गिरफ्तार भावनाएँ बनाती हैं

दुनिया कचरे के अंदर दुर्घटनाग्रस्त हो गई।

“क्या हम यही चाहते हैं? हम क्या चाहते हैं?
प्राप्त? हम यही चाहते हैं जब
हम मरना चाहते हैं।”

कृपया आ भी जाइए।

जुकाम। दिल का एक टुकड़ा।
मरने के लिए भूलने की जगह।

कई यादों से मैंने खुद को पाया।
अभी और पहले और फिर
आगे – आगे।

ओह, कितने। खुद को भूल गए।

जातक

जतिस्वर।


THE WERE-LINGS’ ODE

And then, this good morning, how happy and glad you will be, day by day, week by week, year by year!

Who has not seen the dawn?

Who has not held the joy of sunrise?

When it came on, what was it but as if some eternal light had given glory to the world, and as if the future was made glorious before we saw it?

The air seemed full of it, and my soul, not wholly in tune with the day, seemed a full box of sunshine.

All, just all, was so lovely that I felt that it would not have been justice to anyone to send a low, dull, oppressive day to him.

If this morning did not deserve my raptures, I wondered what could possibly deserve them.

There is nothing in the world that is so delightful.

How did it get like this?

It is in one way to have these good mornings: this morning, this morning!

And yet the world was not designed for them.

Its beauty is only of such a loveliness that we are stupid if we can look at it without seeing the future glory of it.

To have them in the wintertime, when life is just beginning to stir, is something too wonderful to be seen merely as a convenience.

In order that the golden beauty may be present, the following conditions must be in operation.

First, a bare, clear sky must be free of clouds.

The sky has no dignity for its beauty if the heavens are full of clouds.

Second, no wind.

No wind is there for the clouds to play in; the sky should be entirely calm.

Third, no fog.

A night – fog, or fog that comes up like clouds out of the low country, is ugly and unnatural.

Fourth, there must be a break between two of their souls.

To crawl upward to the thin crust of Earth.

:: 03.29.2022 ::


INSIDE MY ROOM

A thought that i was a miracle now crawls through my mind. My body is overlapped like the second hand of new stock.

The ache in my lungs is a thunder that has its own sentiment.

My body has ripped and torn; the thought of suicide is a tempting image that occurs fearfully within my mind.

I roam in despair drenched in clouds of red humid blood that filters the sound of my escape throughout my room along with the pain.

My insides have turned like rusted dented clay and a wire ensues to serve as an electric tear, like clothes in a sale.

The beauty is all parts of the old and the new, yet we would break down — you could break down me.

The only thing that keeps me on my feet is my hope.

My disheartened mind ponders and plans to destroy myself.

My Soul, My Heart — a ruinous and dilapidated Estate.

It is all within my lonely room.

Beyond, beheld by Behemoth and the flood, the time, and the Great Nothing.

:: 03.29.2022 ::


THE LONELY BLUE BALLOON

And the balloon can never see the blue of its own private skin, Nor hear the pain in its own chest.

It floats on without hope or fate, On and on by itself against the prettiest of skies.

No one can help you, to save you: who has been hurt before?

Some better than you.

Save yourself.

Be brave!

Climb to the heavens.

Climb to your red heart.

Gaze into it — all you will have.

Gaze into it.

Look into it!

:: 03.29.2022 ::