He grazes in revulsion his besmirched wings, and dolor tints his iris -
And doubts of queries race, luring him forth with their everlasting fires -
Tints to azure hues, like daunted blemishes of sarcasm on lily-white red.
Defunct, this serried folk shall serve humanity forevermore as dread.

The constant frissions of the sifters have severed meat from wicked blood,
The self-conceit has quaffed souls, like vampires sinking teeth into a human heart.
His Father sows and reaps, and breathes in the sacrificial smell,
And few discern a puerile reaper in his dull and straddling stand...

And scars form decors on his back as he descends into the sultry hircine depth -
His acts retold and smeared in lies, inducing no less fear than unfair wrath.
Holding his head up high, puissant, walking away with might and main -
No one shall know of mystic wyrd that followed the polemic angels twain.

 

 The boat sailed amid an ocean where darkness painted the water black, the stars added sequins to distant waves, and silence was like an endless song. Mark stood on the bow. The insomnia monster got him when he was in his quarters, and he hadn't been able to relax ever since. He glanced at his watch and realized it was three in the morning. He smothered a yawn and thought about going back to bed, but he knew trying to get some sleep would be like trying to find a piece of land in that isolated Atlantic spot.
The crew, still inebriant from the bacchanalian revelry and obeisances to the chief which were occuring a day ago, was sifting through the doors ajar to the sultry poop deck of the vessel that was not subject to any major gusts of wind. In wonderment did Mark heed his attention to these scullions - as much as he had deference to the captain, he couldn't share the deck without an opprobrious frission, much more daunty and fastidious every time he descried these vermins sprawling all over the ship.
 
Then Brian heard it.

It broke the silence, but not abruptly, for it was the sound of a sweet voice, as if a bird was floating somewhere in the ocean, yet it wasn't a bird, for the mellifluous voice had said his name.
 "Mark.."
 There, in the distance, there was a face, accompanied by long dark hair that shone under the silver moonlight.
 She was beautiful, but what was she doing in the middle of the Atlantic ocean? He looked once again at her: her hair was wet and black, but she was white. "It's probably hair dye" - thought he.
 She had voluptuous breasts; it was easy to notice once her torso came out of the water. She stared at him, with her big round eyes. Then she grinned, as if she was about to do some mischief.
 And when she submerged, Mark saw the rest of her body. She had no legs but a tail. A fish tail.  She was a siren. So he took a fishing rod and a placed a teddy bear with a postcard upon the hook and cast it into the waters. He smiled and waited for the siren to take the bait. His penis was waking up, already pressing against the fabric of his white pants. This was his chance to have sex with a siren. Back in high school, his brother Ralph had been the school's playboy, always bragging about how many cheerleaders he had had sex with, but Mark had screwed a siren. What were the odds of that? Her tail flipped on and on, manifesting the amalgamation of the platonic and astral climax. But she didn't surface, making him linger his time.. With his zipper half-open, with his eyes bulging out trying to catch a glimpse of a single scale. He was there, out in the dark, trying to catch his breath, yet moan silently with all the fibres of his soul as he caught sight of a fish tail. Alas, it was a mere shark.. And the shark had the teddy bear with the poscard in its mouth, and it was moving away from the boat, and it tugged Mark overboard.
 Mark felt the cold water touching his skin. It was like being stabbed a thousand times with a thousand knifes.
 "Help," he screamed, but he knew no one would listen. Everyone was either asleep or partying. The shark turned around and moved toward him. The only chance of getting saved there was reading the postcard out loud. But he had to get it out of the teddy stuck in betwixt the ominous teeth of the fish. "At least I'll die with a boner", he bethought of his final erection. But still, reading the postcard out loud to the shark and marrying it would help him live.. His sight wasn't adapted to the underwater reading but he was lucky enough to evade the adroit assailments of the shark and his hard member managed to take the postcard out of the shark's grasp of the maw.
 And he held it until...
 He saw these eyes from afar, from her, she was gazing at him, and although the water gave no allowance for the shedding tears, he could swear he saw the drop rilling from her mermaid eyes..
 "You slut!" - she said, and all he heard was "GURGLE! Gurgle!".
 And by letting the card slip out of his hand he did all but dodged the attack of the shark..

Was it the end? No...

 In her deep sorrow for the mortal, she swam ferociously towards the mortally wounded man and the crimson waters surrounding him. She hoped that once she got there she could use the healing powers of the sea to sustain his life. He had been eaten from the waist down. She promptly arrived and fended off the shark with the power of one whip of her tail, but she could use her powers to turn him into a merman. She summoned the powers of Neptune, the blood began returning to his body from the sea. In a deep regret for the harsh words he angerly threw her way and he looked at her, mystified as she swam up and slapped him. 
"Eat shit, jerk!" she screamed at him/
 She then swam off, as the shark circled around and began its attack once again.
 

Lost Hopes

Oh, moon, with beauty glorified throughout the ages of the strains,
Your presence indelibly etched the ones who walk under your mass,
Oh, teal seas with high tides, unbridled in their flow,
Will you all witness my last throes that soon shall cease and go?

My kind shall crawl into the tomb and breath by breath, I'll pass away,
With somber fortitude I'll tame the wart of life, the light of grey.
This lecherous drear gift that keeps on retieratively teasing,
This sickly bewitchment shall be broken, for it is now my very quisling.

In contrite sang-froid my resolute hand reaches out for a gun,
All, please condone me... And in one motion swift, I am gone...
The single thunder has become a demarkation of the rest,
And banished, life no longer moves my chest.

The glutted night ascends from the silent, tranquil room,
The quenched waters ebb without a single sign of gloom,
Slight breeze stirs the inkstand-pressed sheet of the last muse,
My eyes no longer see the wane; the world had naught to lose.

03.03.09


.


****

Lo and behold! In listless slough my useless soul has slept,
But thou has shed the light of Lucifer whose endless knowledge is adept,
Unbirdling forthwith everlasting hopes and ardency of love,
May Ashtoreth witness the floridness that thee continually engraft.

Mine heartbeat races when thine countenance is nigh,
It's a lucid perfection and I drown in this mire,
Lachrymose Luna, and the watery moon,
The weeping crescent - always at full.

The runes with the futhark art cast and their gist is clear -
Thou art adorable, my mistress and queen,
Thou art higher than God; or all gods, if thou please.
Prithee, I'm confident - my lief feeling shall never surcease.


Reneging On Life

The doom I have sought lingers no more,
The meaningless future faces no wonders at all,
The absence of valiance looms visions forlorn.
Mendacious hopes - I reject your foul call.

Solemnity stays, as I pine away slowly,
Adverse ennui, protracts a dour folly,
Conferring no option but to cull out lunacy -
Solve the riddle of death, disentangling its intricacy


Ephemera

Each transient season casts a trough of my prowess,
Each autumn cause fitful thoughts of the past days,
I'm faltered by it, it's dulling my senses,
And days last eternity, the woe that I witness,

I have gone through the changes, yet the passion remains,
It controls my emotions, holding their reins,
Smothered with infinite, strangling by mind,
I wade through the darkness, thoughtful and blind.


Internecine Promiscuity

Noxious reek contorts the olfactory sense,
Blood osculating the palate is dense.
The duo of anguished clamours stiffening the basement
Is imbued with salacious laughter never in abatement.

Abhorrent human cubs are dismembered in the attic -
Leading them to my apartment was an ingenuous trick.
Withering their life, escapes their rendered bodies,
Recalcintrant, my deflowered gamin grovels.

Inveigled, those hapless victims are quaintly writhing,
Punched in their frames, tearing their clothing.

They're suppine, sprawling on children bones, bleeding,
Still alive, with a hope, soliciting me for freedom,
A flash of lewd, vicious love, inundating my mind,
I commence my indulgence with them from behind.

Flesh, still resilient, grafting with me,
Engraving my perception with its fatal finesse lee,
The fitful paroxysms climaxing the feast -
Coming to the church, they thought I was just a priest.

Gingerly, I inter one by one the remains.
I am stalked by their night reminiscence,
Even the night cannot blur the amatory regret
Of burying the elder of the two of these dead.

"Because I will publish the name of the Lord:
Ascribe ye greatness unto our God." (Deuteronomy 32:3)
Passing Jesus' word onto our life,
I realize I was in love.

The Surrender

When I perpend 'pon the quiet shore of Lethe,
With intentness of imminent doom met with gree,
The cruces of strains are yet unforgotten,
Cerebrations of will are still safe and unbroken.

Malodorous waters are ladled with lust,
Lending themselves to purloined trust,
Eris' naiad swirls away with that spoil,
Now, all of my thoughts disappear and foil.

Altercations of infamy mean naught in this world,
Careless felicities are lost and forgot...
Inebriated, menial, at the gates on my knees,
I implore to get in, oh, omnific Hades.


09.26.08

Heartsore eddying of horror, objurgated, scorned and lost,
Permeate my dingy body - the chrysalis, thine humble host,
Oh, the tableaux of relumed - seat thy henchman to His left,
Let me dip in things forgotten and beget a wicked craft.

Nascent spells, born 'ere, swathe me with thine nourishing curbs!
Give me cloyed taste of broken, shattered, crumbled godly hopes,
Seeping from a cramoisie grimoire that is unearthed!
Let me espy exultantly adust entities aloft!

Adulate the Seventh Seal of the firmanent once steep.
I am pleased, for it is open - fulgurous, thunderous and breached.
And in luster powers coast in, whereas I gloomily stand,
Whencesover they'd appear, He shall take His rightful land.

04.02.08



early 2008

    "Two moons floated over a barren planet where the abandoned cities proved that life had evolved and perished, leaving behind nothing but rocks and dust and crowds of smoke that were like remnants of a bloody war. The starships descended upon the planet. They were like metal monsters that could devour entire islands. They had been built for conquest, and the cannons attached to their hulls made it clear they were space predators. Their engines were silent, so they could sneak into any unsuspecting world, kill thousands, never encountering resistance. Their landing gears touched the ground,and the gangplanks were lowered with hissing sounds that resembled a thousand whispers. The Skyrrons marched out, boots tramping over metal. They spread all over the desert, looking like marauders who would kill anything that moved and devour it.  In the distance, Jennifer looked at them through infrared binoculars. These were the bastards who had desecrated her world, killed her friends, family, everyone. Now she was perhaps the only human left, alone, but not ready to stop fighting. Knowing she could never defeat thousands of beasts all by herself, not with a petty machine gun, she was devising a plan that would end the Skyrrons' reign of terror. She just needed to entertain them, so she could sneak inside their vessels and plant a nuclear warhead. But, knowing the Skyrrons were stupid, Jennifer sold them opium. Now stoned, the Skyrrons pilots crashed their starships against the sun and burned to death, laughing maniacally as the opium turned them into complete morons."