The Wind

Little grey husk, let the wind remind you, all those things you were. Let the wind tell you who you are, the cold bite on your skin, the wind knows what you are. An animal of the lowest sort, a man, a monster, matters not. You're both, aren't you? Oh little god look away from yourself, it'll only bring pain. But the wind will whisper, and make you naked in the cold, the wind will set you straight.

That breath, those ribs, moving moving moving. My god how they move. That fleshy thing moves, and comes close, comes so close to my heart, but she isn't mine, and cannot be. Yet, the way it moves, oh yes IT, isn't that problem, not a person as I am, only an IT to move for me. How dark and lost I have become, even now my soul cries for a shape, not a soul, a shape only, a warm little shape to make me fit into the puzzle, a husk, a nothing-person with no soul of their own, yet gods, I am so cold.

A battle, a holy crusade maybe, in my own soul, with my own flesh, that longing lustful creature in me that cares nothing for innocence and wants only to feed, and get fat on his conquest. How many little ones have I destroyed with my gaze? How many are justified in my sin? I don't know what's wrong or right anymore, and the little one pulls me close, and pacifies my dread.

Pacifier, an infantile tool, yet I need it. I need the solace of irresponsibility, and it tugs hard against my flesh. If it could flail me into submission I would let it. All skin peeled away, only muscle and bone left to bleach and wither, only a half thing, a half person, physical only, no spirit. Hail Satan! I have no soul! Jesus Christ on the cross, save my soul! Spill your blood and bathe me in ecstasy!

The wind tells me nothing, and everything. Its caress on my skin condemns and frees. I am a brute, an evil awful terrible thing, yet I am alive and well, ready to breathe the wind into my own diseased lungs.  

Father's Son

We all come from somewhere, a moist cavern or a warm bed. All placed here like pawns in a chess game with no players. Left to scribble and wander away hours. No gods looking down judging, no hellish fiend looking up waiting for his sadistic chance. Just us, and the web of lies or the tapestry of truth we weave. Heavy hands make a burning place, quick smiles lessen the burden, but bring contention. Honesty, that bare naked spirit makes us a strong armored titan, truth makes us burn like a never-dying star in the sky. Yet always we shrink away from the brilliance of our own existence, and fling mud at the other apes trying to create a steady drum beat.

Faggot, normie, liberal, SJW, cuckhold, pervert, pedophile, polyamorous bi, straight, nigger, Nazi, gook, honky, spic, gringo, left, right, trans, cis, and others more varied and lewd, all to draw those damn lines in the sand. Things to contain and control, with no love in them. Let's accept the diversity, and harm no creature. Like those ill-fated pagans of old, like those God-fearing Christians, like those Muslims who knew God is love, like the Jews wishing Shalom on all, like those atheists proclaiming the beauty of the ape-god, like those Hindus saying all is one manifestation of God, like the Buddhists saying we are the same. Like the man who loves his children, like the mother who is the source of all good, let's be like that.

And be no more the crawling sly beast of the garden, let us raise no more hell against the hedges of Paradise. Welcome all with a caress and a cutting word, love all, but accept no evil. The shades of skin, the long roads traversed, each their own universe which not all have journeyed, a little god alone in majesty needs no acclamation and no praise. Strong in their solidarity, safe in their sovereignty, all is one, and many things are blooming.

When that dark comes be ready with your own light, not the shadow of another one's flame, you own lighting is far more brilliant than an echo. Let us not be slaves to the whims of the past, or dogs for the call of the present, let us always admire our future, and worship the gods we will become, let us not be only our father's sons.  

This Town

I've lost track of how many nights I've wandered the streets in this town

I keep thinking of her face, and damn it's getting me down

Tell me darling, tell me dear, will we ever get out of this town?

I've lost track of how many times we've failed to see eye to eye

I dreamed of holding her close, and damn imagine my surprise

I endure the long lonely nights, just waiting for the sun to rise

I've lost track of all the times I've gone and worn a frown

I keep thinking if I keep this up, I am bound to drown

Tell me darling, tell me dear, will we ever get out of this town?

I've lost track of all the times I've seen bones hanging from the trees

I know that this devil inside me is damn well hard to please

I can't love a god, who wants to see me on my knees

I've lost track of all the times I've woken up facedown

I can hear my heart its beating, and I think it needs to slowdown

Tell me darling, tell me dear, will we ever get out of this town?

For the Sundress

All grace little flowers

Little rivers dry sand

And something speaks

Not with words with skin

All love little sleep

Big mountains poke

And something dies

Not with body with eyes

All sleek little soul

Thick forests dream

And something loves

Not with mind with heart

All anger little hands

Big house taunts

And something lies

Not with clothes with bones

All little lovely little

Old man remembers

And something snaps

Not with fury with vice

All sunny little clouds

Dirty rooms divine

And something rips

Not with flesh with lips

All wandering little home

Little one dances

And something rises

Not with bile with blood

All beat little slap

Young goddess pleads

And something is needed

Not with sacrifice with gift

All warm little cold

Burnt paper reveals

And something cries

Not with pain with fear

All lust little kiss

Fountain shout evil

And something grins

Now with teeth with smile

All loss little gained

Dust blow desire

And something lives

Not with textbook with lily

All rage little thought

Large dog leaps high

And something shakes

Not with hand with death

All pale little scar

Lovely thing mocks

And something believes

Not with faith with touch

All words little spoken

Once fox goes eternal

And something reminds

Not with face with scheme

All taken little left

Old fool redeems

And something ascends

Not with God with gods

The Long Game

Noise...the bloody thing in the skull, pulsing and wheezing like roadkill. No knife can castrate, and no drug can sedate this brute, nothing but nothingness can offer solace. But nothingness isn't anything you can get, so roll the dice, I suppose, play the game, why the hell not? But it's been such a long game, and I don't have a mind to play anymore.

Oh little goddess, why do you torment me so with your love? A goddess shouldn't love a filthy little rat, or a queen care for a diseased peasant. Yet she spills her blood everyday for my little wretched soul, stomping out her own majesty.

Damp things catch fire, the parched drown in her glory. Up is down, I guess. So how do I fall for her? Oh numbers in sequence, colors in palate, notes in scale, order, logic, but the chaos calls me back. The bearded beast on throne wants my soul, the carpenter, nailed to worked wood, wants my life for his own. A zombie god, resurrected from my own past life, eating away at my life now. I fall into the void they left when I found out their lies. A vacuum of purpose, a negative space for hope.

A triangle set with stones; complex wonder of man, a cross of wooden planks; simple. History is a strange thing, light grey versus dark grey, no black and white. I find it all too good to be true, and yet it is, without empty promises, only assuring the pointless wonder of it all.

Noise...the bleeding thing in the heart, writhing and whimpering like a battered pet. No love can console, and no hatred inflame this fool, nothing but everything will satisfy, but everything is so out of reach. Play the hand you were dealt, the cards are capricious, and the house mundane. It's been such a long game, and I can't wait for the next round.

Bet your life, my friend. It's all you have that's worth anything, well...maybe. Who knows? All just pieces in someone else's game, aren't we all? Those scaly fucks from another world, drinking the blood of simple men. Hm? No? Well, the bargaining chips in a celestial prick measuring contest. Hm? No? The many reincarnations of one soul then, perhaps. Perhaps not.

It's been such a long game, and I dunno if I can play anymore.

Big White-Fat Devil

Now come the blue and black

Set to make flesh black and blue

The chorus begins:

NOT MY GOD!

Fists raised :

NOT MY GOD!

In childish defiance

The masses amassed

With sardonic license

The lawmakers are lawless

The chorus reprised:
NOT MY GOD!
Fists stabbing:
NOT MY GOD!

With hate-filled slurs spur

The mongers are mongrels

In capricious wonder

The crowds are cowered

The chorus, dirge becomes:
NOT MY GOD!

Fists fallen, wrists broken:
NOT MY GOD!

Now come the blue and black

Set to make flesh black and blue