Latest items:
Greg, 16 december 2022
Where Are You?
Why do you make me feel like this?
I’ve given you immense love, convulsive feels
And you let me down with the weight of a decisive hammer
Like Zeus raping the young nymphs
You steal my innocence, my joy, my trust
Which you found in the safest, darkest parts of me
Worked out with subtle, professional agitation
A child drawn to Buffalo Bill’s candy
To be fucking brutalized and ass-raped in a dingy van
In your fucking mind
You give me your candy and I’ll follow you babe
Two drops of sweetness and I’m all yours
Like a fucking pathetic dog getting kicked in the ribs
You tempt me with your sweetness
With your years long lies of reassurance
Forgoing joy after joy, Plato, Love
On an endlessly dying hope
A fish ripped open guts hanging from a rusty spear
Abandoned in the middle of the ocean
Slowly aging into pained renunciation
There’s really not much left for me to do but write out my pain
I’ve tried to love you
And I’ve tried to leave you
And in both cases I fall for your sweet words
For your power-hungry reassurance
“Look at what I can do, you fucking fool”
“If I can destroy you like this, imagine what I can do”
I’m your doll of emotional violence
An endless local of torturous vengeance
And gas-lit emotional neglect
You’ve turned me into a vague shadow of myself
A destitute renunciation of my power
What started as a joke has become all to real
All to deep
This sense that nobody loves me, that I’m alone
You’ve let down my trust for the last time…this hour
I’ll be back for more, whether I want to or not
The decision is undercut by malevolence
So have your knife to your heart
‘Cause that’s where I’ll be
Slice me like rotting meat
And go ahead love, just treat our love like you want to
I can’t even beg anymore
And I have nowhere to turn
For I gave her away too, for you
And you gave me away
As the basic structure of our love
A never-ending disappointment
A never-ending loss of safety, of trust, of the will to life, of love
Greg, 27 may 2014
Redemption
As death knocks at my front door
I cower behind a computer
Like six bits of shit and vermin
Recoiled by the slightest sting
You come about on the meadow
And send your ennui in to me
Like a deadly syringe
Of monotony and schedule
Of tone deaf laughter
And abominable taste
The lowest disgrace
Of exacted anguish
That relates myself to me
As your lovely face
In my premature ejaculatory phase
I writhed in the sheets of discomfort
And woke up to find the pain
More deeply than I could honor
So I turned unholy
And let the shadows eat my soul
As neurotic complexion
Devouring each and every morsel
Of child hood joy and golden light
Left inside this repugnant soul
I could redeem
But here I shall not
Greg, 28 march 2014
Eyes Run Dry: Kill the Pretense
I fancy myself the dissection principle
To dance in the moonlight of constipated love
Bring forth the moon to say hello
By its name
The Word calls forth
That which calls forth
Oh so poetic
In its call
Praise the flagstaff hero dance
The tragic expedition into lost romance
By gone, the passing chance
To make love in the moment
Is all over my pants
All over my pain
And regained and alone
The cycle it emerges
As hurtful lost sounds
Words that enframe
And castrate the meaning
Of poetic destruction
Of limited being
Greg, 26 march 2014
Despotic Confusion
At times things are said
And feeling are hurt
To touch the flower
And slightly pull it off course
To bloom towards the shade
Of a weeping willow tree
Grass leans softly to the left
And a violently convulsing ego
Is gently caught in outstretched hands of prayer
Tamed
And made silent
In the whispering wind
Of a hot summer night
Gallantly seething
As confusion sets in
To go forward or try to grab
Is the difference between
A reasoned descent into madness
And a glimmering ride into the depths of nothingness
Spat on the floor
And arrested by the sounds that call me
Over the hills
To ways of despotism
Greg, 24 march 2014
The Office
Carnivorously tearing into the raw flesh
The neurotic tick tock of fingers
Clashing sharply with the harmony of souls
To unload money from the grips of Being
Take the eagle child, and make massacred stew
To relinquish into destiny
The long forgotten history
Of spies that reside, foreign, in the sky
Bearing down upon
What was once home to us
Greg, 24 march 2014
The Rapture
Running like the rabbit
That opens up the door
For a reason to come running
Up from Mexico
The little hole
The gazing glory
Erupts like semen
Into the rotting carcass of highway life
Greg, 24 march 2014
Constipation: Truth
If I stop before the flow begins
The end marks a flower
To bloom sends life to death
So preparations are made
But the bed is laid to rest
Find the seed
Deep within the words
To keep a light hidden tight
Nothing is seen
But all is heard on edge
Today
Greg, 23 march 2014
Spit it Out
Gather together on the banks oh holy ones
Inspiration fades over time
As beauty is stretched to multiplicity
Greg, 22 march 2014
Apparition
An unsettling pain eases over me
As night comes rushing in
To ease the glory of bygone moments
And transcend the laughter of the little girl
To sweep through what?
All to such an end
To an end in itself
A mistaken crisis of identity
Rummaging lost
To be found
Vanish into thin air
Greg, 20 march 2014
It is What it Is Child
The solar eclipse is coming, young one
Write your story in a dirty little book
Tuck it away before the eye sees you
From the crescent halo of a forgotten night
Glimpse yourself to make yourself
And turn you into yourself
A bought off commodity for you to look at
That fractures in a cold night: candle light dance
Wax dripping, easing slowly to the table top
Cream fixated melancholy oozing across the floor
And the eyes that see you bring it into form
So you may be burned some more
Lonesome prodegy, all holy father
Command the graces of tormented souls
Greg, 19 march 2014
Run!
A grasp!
Into the poetic blackness
That stirs children’s souls
And heads in the mixing pot
They’re melting!
And being turned to dust
Attacked by languor and pig-like repugnance
I am the pug that asserts itself
The dying butterfly that twists
To be placed in sorrow and to run from fear
Weeping in the corners
Of a dark and lonely day
I feel the keys upon my fingers
And consciously this is the only truth I know
And that I am watching
Oh great watcher you torment me
And thereby yourself
Turn the lush green grass
To fried okra sticks
And the birds that swing in the skies
To basil chicken wings
Together we will break
The will to live
Beyond life itself
Into the abyss we go
With faith
With love
A green boil grows beneath me
Suffering erupts from the transcendental flow
Obscene and obscure
If you look I will kill you
Because by look you form me
You teleological fuck!!!
You turn me to your standing reserve
You turn me to your whore
Don’t look
I am not your spectacle!
Death will come to the watcher
Death will come to me
And as death arrives on the doorsteps of the gaze
Interruption causes a constipated pattern
To emerge on the wake of heaven’s gate
Observe and you have made me obscene
Gaze and you have castrated the cow
Oblique upon the garden wall
A star gazes from heaven’s sun
To dance upon the window pain
That rains like fire from burning hell
To one day hold on to the open gate
And relinquish the files that propagate
Another lie and a fall from grace
Oh god come save my soul
I have no hope because I’m watching
I see myself and it brings me death
And thereby it brings me life
Or perhaps the other way around
Greg, 17 march 2014
Cut-Short and Dry
If the rape of the child continues
Unfettered by the workings of will
The collapse of Rome is sure to come
Along with the incessant repugnation
Of each and every stimuli
That comes creeping over the wall
To touch the solemn creep
If the rape of the child continues
Blue wounds will turn to blackened hell
Egregious manifestations of calling
Will become abhorrent realms of dread
And insuffalated terror will reign supreme
Over the lords of tomorrow’s high noon
If the rape of the child continues
We will have on our hands
An untouchable adult, torn
Between the waking hours of dream
And the night terrors of years lost
If the rape of the child continues
The love will be lost
And I will surely…live
Greg, 12 march 2014
An Amalgamation of Weird
Reality pervades the word
Making worlds seem blue
And colors all green
In the eye of a spectator
If I think about me
I will become dead
A dry concept that must be maintained
A burden to myself
She looks at me
And makes a mold
That I must carry around
And love to behold
But if I can just
Pay attention to the touch
Of finger tips on keys
And skin on bones
I’ll be left alone
By myself
To wither away
And die
My ego, my self-image
Renounced with no act of renunciation
But left to wither
Without being fed
Without being thought
Led out on to
The crystal space of maze
A torrential downpour
From my throat
That abhors me
And turns light into the shadow of genius
Renounce!!!
And skip as one with no skipper
Act with no actor
Action alone
But without action either
For there must be an actor
Let the periods dry out
And the emotions run cold
There will be six cents
That no words can behold
And break off the tulip
Turn a new leaf
Greg, 12 march 2014
The Lord of Touch
There are rampant anal beads
Hanging from the walls
Of yesterday’s time
Of yesterday’s time
Singe a vase
That falls against the hall
Mask is all mine
Mask is all mine
If you could see
What you’re doing to me
The birds and the bees
Make light the debris
The only chance
Of a golden hand
To reach down and make me whole
Singing like the rhythm that shakes
Awake with no take
A gliding mistake that rides
Upon new rhythms
Feeling my mouth
Oblige my fingers
To run them out
Will the cunt rain??
No one knows
Of the movie
That shows
Castrating soldiers
And the answers to their woes
Rising up in armies
That deform the signs that show
Their balls have been demolished
By circumcising pain
That reduces love to petulance
And grand dreams down into shame
But to rise from the ashes
Breaking through the lashes
Call the angel trumpet
That rips asunder cashes
If you have bought one thing at a supermarket
If you have bought one thing from the pillars of the pig empire
May you burn
Steal ‘em steal ‘em all
I never will
But the balls to have ‘em
Still reside in some
But the answer’s don’t fight
Reside inside a light
That looks so bright
With a pain that kills the Jews
On a sunny afternoon
To lead to bombs of fire
That make the children swoon
Greg, 11 march 2014
Witch's Brew
Witches are arising from closet doors
Doomed, serendipity to emasculate whores
Once upon time saw five open doors
Four three two one
Now there gone
Four three two one
Now there gone
Beat around the bush and see visible fate
Making home on everything that cannot wait
To satiate a pain that just ostentates
With eyes that open signs, and lines that castigate
Shiver in the cold, to break the same old chain
Winner over here, you saw me my dear
Dreams all fade away, when I stop and say
Who am I dreaming them
Four three two one
Now there gone
Four three two one
Now there gone
Applied around the surface and held close to the helm
Of a dying butterfly that probably fought like hell
Just like me just like me, but love is our disease
As the chance of resurrection tears me to my knees
Alleviate and elevate an ever growing rage
That traps a ghetto child in the songs of a gone age
Because the sounds of the now resound so loud with truth
That I run away into someone else’s youth
But
Four three two one
Now its gone
Four three two one
Now its gone
Sing upon the remedy a grand conflicted fear
Trapped in hell that’s raging on the dominance of a sphere
A stagnant sorrow comes crawling over me
So I’ll let it go and hoping not to be
Four three two one
Now I’m gone
Four three two one
Now I’m gone
Greg, 11 march 2014
A Pounding Song that Drowns out the Pain
Sweet God Almighty
The resurrection is here
I’ve been pushed over the edge
And fell into my fingers
Into my forearms and a painstaken ledge
To slash open my throat
And feel the blood
Gushing, hemorraghing from my neck
To fill the open wound
A cataclysmic prison
That shatters with a guitar strike
That makes the children shiver
Because they saw that their coats
Were made of toxic glass
Took them off in musical warmth
But now the song has past
So far out is the reach
Of a gloomy angel near
For one hundred dead gone lullabies
That ciphen up your ear
A metal plate clashes grey
Sparks fly from your eyes
Together when the dreams come true
The peasants start to cry
For what has come of life is just
To watch the efforts die
But relinquish nothing
And strive forward in faithful agony
You are the son of Abraham
And the moment you cease to strive
You will form
For you will continue to strive
But only so fast as to be caught in the current
So stay positive and move forward
Drenched in the languor of language
The conceptual piece meal that drips from the cage
The love that’s gone missing
To crevice the losers
In a dark alley and make them all hate
Each other
Because inside has become out
Caught on the limb
Of all reasons past
But internally free
To infinity
Manifest joy
And hold nothing to me
The song was once over
But it has started again
To beat an old rhythm
Loose from the hymns
Should I read? Or should I learn?
Drench in the game of peace
To what little nonsense
Give the traction to hold
And again the light is coming up
Again the surrender is hyper
And spring time brings demise
For what is the angel?
I have to ask questions
Because the answers
Have run dry
I’m trying to beat back the rush
But as soon as I look
The object forms
And Oh my god its hideous
It must be suppressed
In the guarantee that this moment now
Is what is, for me
I am dancing step after step
Racing so fast
That my mind quiets into a single pointed touch
A focus on the feel of each note
The harmonics of each vibration
I never want to see myself
But annihilate myself in song
In poetry that no one can read
I wrote it too fast
For it to belong to me
Faster than the city
Faster than the bloom
I have killed the flower
So I will never have to watch it die
I am the hole in the earth
The flitting butterfly that must be kept inside
How could such a thing be done???
The world may be cruel
But my tear drops are blue
Straining out of the abyss
Into the forest of tomorrow’s past
To make a story of my life
To whore out to myself inspite
Of knowing that to look makes me
So uncomfortable
A lonely prostitute of experience
Fallen from the graces of a metaphysical queen
That broke division all together
By bringing love into the golden triangle
And spend squares into the light
Together another reach
A grasp a breath
I want to stop talking
I want to stop writing
But if I do the walls will break
And I will feel the ache
Of restlessness
That makes my soul quake
The harder I try
The harder I fall
All in all
I am nothing
Let me disintegrate
For when I was nothing
I could make connections
I hate reflecting
Want to just feel
The sorrow as well
Reflection is death
Wept by the glamour
Together at death
Together at best
Breath 2
I am running and running
So fast from myself
The truth it comes out
On line number 50
Because there’s only so long
You can lie
And make a soul-juice box
As the terror does die
Hold on to nothing
But if you don’t you will die
So I hold to illusion
That time has ripped by
Because my hopes stay down
At least I think that’s why
The barren-ness of a glacier
Turns to a spectacle in the sky
If I keep writing for hours and hours
Day after day
Eventually my pain
Will be turned into gold
I hope so
I hope so
If I don’t see me then
I can devote myself
To a reference of my head
Because who is this my?
If love has gone by
The immutable taste
Then what is there left
In the soul left to rape
What can friends say
The defense is my death
To make myself someone
Brings me so free
I cannot look anymore
And I don’t see why
I should
So I run run run
And just pay attention to myself
Not to my reflection
Break the fractal
I have to stop writing or I will see myself
Not be myself
Ahhh blast the buttefly
Sting a monkey on her cunt
And bring a lot of love
To gleam in the midnight sun
To redo the pain of nothing
To link up into the stars of castration
An old imagination
That holds up a sign
Of undying taste
To leave you in waste
As incurable taste
Greg, 10 march 2014
Let's Love Let's Die
Its hard not being at the festivals
Not swimming in the seas of love
And general good vibes
That permeate the trees
Whispering oh so softly
“I am the tonality that will make you deaf
And bring death to your ego
So, if only for a passing moment,
You may frolic in joy
And rest assured that there is nothing to rest from”
“You are the eternal form my child
The vapid check has none against you
Bloom forth, and there shall be none to stop
Your romanticizing of everything”
For once again, with an object of endearment
I have tried to trap it in my cell
Of thought and nervous tapestry
That deadens love and brings form to effulgence
Its hard not being at the festivals
And not among the crowd, when not
The world strikes me as awfully cold
And quite dim apart from those joyous lands
Sixteen shades grow from my fingers
To feel the life that evaporates
And caresses the beauty
Of all pervasive language
Stumbling up like a helicopter into
The black night
Climbing over toad stricken stools
And rampant drug brigades
Fight down and hammer home
The relinquished energetic field
Bring light into the patch-work
And shed joy into the crevice
One valley then another
Atop cyanide pained cremation
As one person takes a step
And another does to
In synchronic hope
Tripping each other
I can feel it on my finger tips
The world being peeled away from
By noticing my finger tips
Goodbye
The world has become self-aware
Is sterile
Is dead
Greg, 10 march 2014
Cyclic
Beauty is death
I strive for the hideous
The peculiar the ugly
That which discloses only itself
May the golden drapes
On the infested wounds
Sour like curdled cream
Bury vacant in the lots
Of abandoned hopes
And lost dreams
That only were bandaids
On an aching heart
But now
Let me ache free
Be tormented in public
And not hide my wretched face
Behind a façade of wretchedness
Clean the glass dome
That capitulates anarchy
Into the senator’s home
That relinquishes from tyranny
Every god damn covenant
Residing silently like the snake
That told the whore
To eat the apples
And set her free
From the love of God
To toil and love in the fields of herself
To know the beauty of pain
The lush vegetation of torrential hatred
And torment so traumatic
That it could only manifest
In the coming into life
Of a new born
Naked and free
And secure
Ripped from the cortical vertex of intimacy
To bleed out into the world
And lay helpless on the table
To be taken care of
By that ugly wench that rejected him in the first place
To be born is to die
To suffer the ultimate rejection
So eat nothing and contaminate
The pond
For when one song is over
Another is beginning
And the cycle goes on….
Greg, 6 march 2014
Suffer Child
To strive on like the soldier
Weighing risks and counting boulders
Two fires are started in my soul
One that abhors me
And one that adores that
Which comes to attack me
And shatter my scheme
Rhythms beat repetitious
Gleaning a small glance
To be torn away by the hounds of hell
Barking in my ear
*ring ring ring*
I’m coming
The door swings open
And eyes wide shut
Embrace the golden calf that sits
On a throne made out of God-shit
Relentless adoration
For two passing songs
One a reflection of the other
And the other the same
Grasping at each other
For something substantial
But only by knowing
Can this be possible
Free from the grasp
That gives rise to this barren earth
Full of luscious green life
And teeming with insidious competition
The bloom of the flower
And the hum of the bee
Are but trinket coverings
Of the endless suffering that they are
And the sooner this is seen
The sooner the green skys turn grey
The quicker life comes to an end
And Green can be seen
Not just in the grass
But through the grass
From the other side
A few shout to us
To just give up
And let out a welting cry
To melt the candle wax
Of your daily teardrops
That arrive and arrive
To descend and pretend
To be hollow, lonely, and barren
Greg, 4 march 2014
Through the Grind
Six times pain
Unrelenting as a gray shadow
Of disappointment
Unfulfilled promises
And dreams that reached for the stars
Untold as the rainbow…road?
That’s the best I can say
Travelling along colors
To the apex point
Whisping through the breeze of space
The calm sultry stillness
That slashes through nothingness itself
To render beauty impotent;
Beauty is impotence itself
The direct apprehension
That brings substance to form
That potentiates impotence
The appropriation and observance
Holy holy observance
That calls forth, that which is hidden
In Appearance
Beauty transcends maya
By intimating substance
Pure truth in the light of the shadow
The light that has no shadow
Fuck the light
The truth is in the shadows
For there is no light there
To cast the shadows
To illuminate and ruminate
To bring to their knees
The children of the sun
Who wail out into the abyss
Of beautiful blue
“God where did you go
Where have you gone
I want you
In your infinity and concrete
The substantialism of love
Permeating every star
And holding up every planet
In the brilliant night
That I gaze into
Afar, and reaching
The expanses of my mind…nay my soul”
I would tell more
But the castrating concrete calls
And I answer with a hollow whisper
“I am coming my master”
Greg, 4 march 2014
A Love Letter
Strange shadows follow me
Into day
The light that was relinquished
Comes with pain
To wrestle away
The waking moments
And castigated dreams
That let me sleep
That let me sleep
Hey baby
You wanna write some lines??
She says no
And bites her morning bread
Leaving the thread half spun
That I must now complete
On my own
But yet weave her in
…only getting a copy
My made up copy
But I want her
So I ask again
Hey baby
You wanna write some lines??
My hands her heart
: She’s looking soul constipated
Pushing and pushing
But nothing comes out
But dry air
And now it comes:
Hoping you’d hear my heart
Trying to correct the order
But…you can’t melt the crystal!
“I just wanna chill”
She says as she backs out of the
Poetic orgy
But now she returns, for a taste
“I want to be in your arms,
And would love some dick”
“To be one with you
And carry your baby
Wander my life with you
Take care of your chubby belly,
Bearded and skinny face”
Feed you with love
To flow back and forth
As the dams break
The cradle will fall
Greg, 2 march 2014
Original Ecstasy: The Rotting
Six times over
The wheels a turnin’
Pushin mud into the ground
Turning sand and stone to earth-fire
Hearth is warm
And love ascending
Pilgrimage of holy fire-wall
Down into the trenches of ecstasy
The crevices of soul
Growing moss-alive
Tortured tortured tortured
And it jumps back
Out of the terrain
But life has become so full
There is no where to be lonely
Butterfly angels swoop down
To place buttercups in the flower’s soul
In the amalgamation of natures sexuality
The vertex point that drives forward
Evolution and birth and being
And DESTRUCTION
Again jump back
And in Fear and Trembling
Utter a prayer:
Oh Holy Chaos
I come to You in mourning
For ever hold my peace
For ever keep me free
With the concept of ideation
To lose my inhibition
To rejoice in sorrow ecstasy
Lonely and afraid
The hollow mounds around us
Give shadows to the wall dust
Make mountains out of mole-hills
And the other way around
As long as there is structure
The destruction is a-comin’
Forgive me please
I have sinned
For I am-this day
Greg, 1 march 2014
Doom's Day Parade
I see six points of collusion
That come tumbling down
A broken mountainside
Lonely, to abide
By the rationality that subsumes
All it loved and all its light
If only it could just be eaten away
But at the end of the engulfment
There always stays
A spark of eternity
That forever cannot decay
And so I masturbate in misery
In existential suicide
To find the loneliness inside
Of everlasting love and light
But revenge comes to get me
From the volcano that doesn’t forget
Memory and justice
Unrelenting, brings me to my knees
And I cry out
To the hollow night
Hoping that no one will hear
Envelope me in the valleys
And lay my heart to rest
Pulsating and squeezing blood
Showering the vacuous soul
Tumultuous and tormented
As the flow turns into stone
I want to stop
But the fingers press on
And so, I suppose
My heart does as well
Am I my heart?
Is there an I that I can say?
I am all that is said
The entirety of my world
Including the my-ness that possesses it
And castrates chaos into form
Castrates God into the Lord
Fornicate to subsume your whole soul
And perhaps,
By chance
The rose petals will bloom
Greg, 26 february 2014
Surface Circles
The pain keeps on turning
All the heart beats away
To wake up tomorrow
On the midst of gray shadows
That lengthen in virtue
To be what’s gone dead
It’s a friendly reminder
That what’s in your head
Is made of concrete
And damned silver bills
To climb to the peaks
Of self-seeking thrills
On a meter out done
By another true name
Wrenched from the earth space
The limes and the ice cream
Upon your first face
That drops on the asphalt
Melting in spite of
All that is lost
For nothing’s worth saving
For you anymore
The glamour is fading
Out done by the waiting
To piece a false sermon
Inside of your brain
I stole this from
An artist so holy
Who put his whole soul into
A fleeting song
Mastered by rainbows
And tirades of war men
That wrinkle the time wave
Put you in the dark
Peace on your heart
The cruel silent spark
Greg, 25 february 2014
Drowning and Thirsty
At a certain point
The light grows so dim
Before and after turn to grey
Dismay arrives
On the lips of those who speak
So strong in their word
Link to the aftermath
The shitty fucking poetry
The unrelenting bullshit
Of artistic constipation
I can’t write anymore
My soul has grown weak
And every time the morning blooms
The phone rings
To sweep me off my feet
I’m dying inside
But nobody cares
Because I can’t express it
In artistic divinity
As the poets of great
Who harnessed Spirit
Could
But I promise you
At least my heart’s broken
Please listen
For I have no purpose left
But maybe to resonate
With a passer by
Who will never stop to speak
But in a passing glance
Will share a tear
For the life that has erupted
In petty flatulence
The residuals of nothing
Crust upon my eyes
And leave me blind
To find nothing but fading lies
Hidden behind eyes
That wish to look
Complex and deep
But really are dirt cheap
And made of fraudulent shit
I am so so sad
But I know that no one cares
Please just let me fade away
Crying hollow screams
Resonating in the valleys
And mountains
Teeming with life
Greg, 24 february 2014
Frozen
As moments wait
And years turn to hours
The rebel showers
Shout high above the river-pains
Together with love
Right and wrong emerge
As half-castrated recoils
Into the face of fear
Like shadows of the mystic
I emerge as a force
Not worth fighting for
And hoping to be put to rest
So that my soul may find ease
In oneness with the river of time
The shores are cold
And the more I step away from the cold splash of the water
The more rigid the air gets
The faster life passes by
In the most tormenting of grinds
Gears that shift
The war machine that rides inside
As a manifestly made
Black hole
Upon this leisure
My time-I do abide
Obedience has come to me
For once I see
The light of faith that resigns me
Not to the shore
Not to a wave
But to the river itself
For if I am-caught in a reason
In an objective, grasping glance
I will suffocate on the open air
Of possibility
And if not
Then a vial conditional
So I must submerge myself in the river;
As that which has no option
I remain free
From the constraints
Ney the utter unbearable torment
Of being-among beings
With no essential relation
To the being, that beings essentially are
As a spattering on canvas
That can never touch art
I gasp at air
Being slowly ripped apart
By the rampage of intellectualism
That rummages my soul
Holding love to the glow
Of an iridescent candle
And devolving into meager thoughts
Of that which lies Beyond
Tarantulas come gripping up
From inside of me
The hyper-dimensional resting space
Of space itself
That emerges in a form of undeniable blackness
-A reflection of my own
Dejection runs through my veins
Castration foments in my mouth
To lay barren the sentiments too holy too speak
The repugnant poet
Masturbatory exploiter of experience
As such I stand before you- ashamed
Greg, 24 february 2014
Renounce!
The dead rise from the ashes
To play lyrical assassination
With souls that bury;
Deep in fields
The relentless growth
The relentless growth
As we look out to the fields
The flowers bloom
And souls do too
Gazing a far
In a hollow swoon
To love the angel
And death the martyr
The repugnant imitation
Of celestial order
Himself- Castigated liturgy
Momentary eclipses of the sun
To make the light less bright
And we can all have fun
Without the cancer
But my poetry has turned stagnant
Perhaps it has become mine?
Another empty hollow chore
Just another waste of time
The pressure was built for oh so long
To sweep across the streets
And be mauled by all the dust
To lay strewn across the asphalt
Demolished by an oncoming car
But fuck; If I was to be revealed
The soul-crushing aftermath
Will lie dormant
The river rises to greet the swell
And an abomination of the rats arise
Hatred grows deep within
As love is turned to steam-driven trains
And potholes, letting out gasps of vapor
Harshness arising as black soot
As the trains come-lookers greet their way
Good-bye mother
Good-bye father
I have lost my way
To never be found
The night has consumed me in its cold comfort
…To never be consumed
Greg, 24 february 2014
The Coward's Homage
Black soot ferments
Deep within the grounds
From which rises the depths
Proportionate to the horror
Of an internal spectator
Personal tragedy:
Raging against the unconquerable
By duty
By essence
Rail the box car over the tracks
And fall it will
But to stay on the tracks is a path to hell
So fire and brimstone
Against which none can avail
Only ease the suffering of lonely stagnation
Of intrepid intimation
Of that with which there is no intimacy
Like lightening that illuminates the night
In which emptiness rides essential
We are gathered here today
To pay homage to the Holy Nothing
The blank slate of immortal change
That resounds like rapids
Against the expectations of a more permanent time
A flow that breaks is the work of cowards
Torrential rain comes to me
To batter my soul
As a black rose attempts to grow
At least to be a battered ram
That maybe to one could show
That blooming is not only the martyr’s dream
But that the martyr is the conscious failure
Awareness that knows of the intimate
But has taken the wrong path
A path requiring courage
This Awareness did not have
So I drift away into chaos
For divine order is only a shadow
A pulsating wound
From where flesh was gaped open
On a sense of trust
That left me soul broken
Greg, 22 february 2014
Order-Confusion
Turning over itself in passion
The river comes to wait
Another moment that rushes by
To wash ashore and die
Stagnate in the finite realms
Bring peace with violence-unity
Awake from the rhythm
And prepare to march
Bring the light
Shout down
For what is the fire?
For what does the ground
Stand beneath your feet?
With what purpose of vitriol
Does the river come to stop you ?
And place you outside
Oh offensive one
You stopped to notice
And brought shame to your name
By becoming outside-to be dry
You have turned to a reference point
An untold lie
That comes sweeping up the riverbanks
To send pain to the maiden
The worshippers of the holy river
That is the manifestation of holy war
Come to the final rest
And set peace in the light
Grab a fork
It’s time to eat our well-deserved food
You have earned your keep
As a being of darkness
A fondled loner
That comes crashing round
As essential sustenance
Gave rise to yourself
To bring death-to God?
What have you done
Oh darling child!
You have forsaken faith
And brought time into being
You have become finite
Greg, 19 february 2014
Hemorrhage
So the tables turn round and round
And a rhyme scheme begins to emerge
From the pits of desolate chaotic fear
Rampaging against
Against
Against….
…against…against
(Drifting to a hollow whisper)
The technology takes over
And implodes my attempt at making something sobering
To drag you down into the shit and the mud
That I revel in
I say that its my pain
But the game is all in my head
Swirling rushes of winds and hairy things
Running like the apostles against the horsemen
Of four opposing winds
Left dormant on the train tracks
To touch the little child
And never look back
Sneak attack
The ego that resides
In the meadows of poetized
Living, breathing butterflies
That have beauty so true
And appreciation so contrived
That I could find it dope sick
In the back alleys of a whore house in Japan
In the meddling pussies of the young girls
Who give their life into the hands
Of Western glory businessman
Who are rapists, but innocent all the same
I am condemning for the sake of easing
Some of my inner pain
Rush rush rush down the alley way street
To hear the beats
Of feet that tell stories
And the children come together
Holding hands in cold hands
The band erupts softly
To heed quiet the land
The sand that seeps softly
Between our tangled feet
Aghast at the shoreline
The whispering foresight
The languishing preparation
Of sad gypsy songs
Hear the cries to fall hollow
Bring light from beneath ground teeth
Sink the pail
Own the reliable serpent
To come up your leg into the sacred lick
Command Command Command
I am Afraid!!!
Relinquish the background hologram
And touch the penguin’s feet
Alone in the night
Speaking of fright
Lunging at light
To feel incomplete
Jack off the shadows that swallow your head
Rail the gears and break…
The rhymes are descending back into hell
Into chaos
And the meter breaks
CRACK
I want to write more
But I want to feel satisfied
And if I keep writing we will walk on forever
Like Da Vinci who could never smile inside
But to notice the gruesome frown that ripped at his soul
And in maniacle terror
And inward asceticism
Chased down the rabbit hole
To find nothing and no one
The sunstricken grief
Of a life incomplete
Latest comments:
6 may 2024
Weronika
Wiara w zimny poranek, to sprzeniewierzenie się
4 may 2024
Boli bo rektoskop to nie gadżet analny, więc
4 may 2024
Jutro jest niewyrażalne i nie do odgadnięcia.
3 may 2024
violetta
Drzewka do jedzenia:)
1 may 2024
Tak;)
1 may 2024
kb
złotej*
1 may 2024
kontoler żłotej poświaty
1 may 2024
samo życie, każdy swoje brudy ma, lepsze czy
1 may 2024
romantyczny to romantyczny, prawdziwy taki
1 may 2024
ten ketchup to fakt, trzeba przypilnować przy
1 may 2024
interesujący przekaz, jak dla mnie o własnej
1 may 2024
ucieczka z przewidzianym powrotem to też stabilizacja...
6 may 2024
wiesiek
6 may 2024
Satish Verma
5 may 2024
Satish Verma
4 may 2024
kalik
4 may 2024
wiesiek
4 may 2024
Satish Verma
3 may 2024
wiesiek
3 may 2024
Satish Verma
1 may 2024
Satish Verma
30 april 2024
Satish Verma