Archive for the ‘Analytical Poetry’ Category

The Math
(Written on June 5, 2016)

So the sky fell into the dark days
So the road turned into a swerve way
And the mirage of the divine
Turned your beverage back from wine.

Such a perfect picture of disenchantment
When the wolves hide within the sheep
And though now you’re blinded by this excitement
Pray to God this doesn’t drag you in too deep.

If the result doesn’t add up with the numbers
There’s something certainly wrong with the formula
When fire weeps sound like roaring thunder
Then the conic section is an ellipse instead of a hyperbola.

So it was written a long time ago
But we were encouraged to believe so
When the devil talks like a Deity
We tend to turn our faith into absurdity.

Such a deceptive way to be captured
When our wounds become compulsion
And though then we waited on for the rapture
We decided that this was true absolution.

If the result doesn’t add up with the numbers
There’s something certainly wrong with the formula
When fire weeps sound like roaring thunder
Then the conic section is an ellipse instead of a hyperbola.

I’ve heard the voice of the devil
And he sings like the sweetest thing
I’ve seen the deep roots of evil
And they look like the most heavenly beings.

So when the waters rise soon to drown
We still will never learn the line needed to be drawn
For the greatest fear’s being taken for granted
But we again ignored it for the sake of feeling wanted.

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There’s a lot of “old” poetry that I’ve never posted. I’m gonna try to post some of them in this blog. Here’s the first of ten poems I’m thinking of posting.

Omnes Opus
(Written on May 31, 2016)

Give it up, give it up
The stone is in the way
And you need the angle
Turn it up, turn it up
To meek is to betray
Every one, every single.

Seal it with the scarlet dagger
Before the scarlet letter gets to you
Seal it down like no other
Before it all caughts up with you.

Seal it with the number seven
Before the nine catches up to you
Seal it until they are all even
Parallel to the one mirroring you.

Omnes opus
I’m ready for the transmutation
Oh, Father Levi
I’m ready for this transhumanism.

Actinic Salacity

All you need is something long enough to keep you satisfied
And I’m coming short with my words, my love and metaphors
And all you need is something stiffed enough to leave you mystified
And I’m coming weak with my open soul, open heart, open arms
Cause at the end of it all, all we need are the most mundane things
And when you’re not a spiritual whore, you don’t lust for implemented invisible beings
All you seek is for what the eyes can feast on, full body on, no protection required
No need for math for what comes after, this signal here burns with growing fire.

All you need is something that can hit you hard and continuously
Even if it’s the kind that’s developed by tempered physical manifestation
All you need is something that will make you sweat and scream infinitely
Even if it’s the kind that comes synthetic and not from a fleshy incarnation
Cause at the end of it all, all we seek are the most degrading things
And when you don’t have an ethic anchor, you don’t go for the sense of consenting
All you crave for is a carnal touch to caress us, press on, course through and across
The only agreement available is in wanting to be molded, fucked inside and out.

Our instinctive animal desires dictating what the outcome should be
For the lack of love, be that self, or from being shorn, this transforms our characters
In this upside down, backward world, where our perspective perception is deformed
We praise the physiognomy that leads into misogyny and depravation assertion.

Laurel (v2)

Oh, this thunderstorm here is no surprise
Lilith is for the hunt and she smells blood
Saving the grace of the Children of Sunrise
Fugitives of the left hand’s grasp of Ehud.

I was raised to sit down, listen and obey
And though these shackles were strong enough to hold a mountain
It came down to traits I simply cannot feign
‘Cause that voice in my brain filled up with pain is now shouting.

Oh those whackers!
Don’t they love it when snakes crawl beneath the grass?
Those mother rockers!
Don’t they love it better how it was then in the past?
They do, they do, they do!
Cause every prince needs a trophy princess to set on display
They need their mechanical mannequins to advertise their victory
To boast their ego as their golden halo’s glow beams blindingly like the sun
I don’t think these majestic pimps need a golden rod but rather a golden gun.

La-la-Laurel
When are you going to stop these men from claiming us as prizes?
Maybe when the stream of the Rose Sisterhood rises
Not until then, not a minute earlier, not an instant later.

Oh, this rattle noise here is not uncommon
Eris is looking for harmony and finds none
Unravels the principles of events to summon
Being sanctuary to those in need of a home.

I was molded by fire, steel and diamond cut
And though these pillars were designed to keep my monster confined
It came to the point that the weight abrupt
The pontifical colloquial symmetries of this cyclical cylindrical sine.

‘Cause every ruler needs a maiden maid right by their side
They need their long string puppets to put a on a good spectacle
And all the mistress they can get for the when world seems just a bit empty
For when their servants contravene after the fact they cannot find any sympathy.

La-la-Laurel
When are you going to stop these men from claiming us as prizes?
Maybe when the stream of the Rose Sisterhood rises
Not until then, not a minute earlier, not an instant later.

Oh how they ride inside their modern day cortege
As they always seem to be late for their own funeral
Well I should apply for a brand new confident entourage
One never knows about those things that might become ephemeral.

Undeniably Undependable

A stingy sensation on the pit of my stomach
Laying there are broken dreams and dead butterflies
When an intention breaks into such a remark
You become the judging eye of who truths and who lies.

Lifted up from the remains of what was once alive
Walked away from the traces of what was once conceived
If I knew that you would’ve taken me for such a ride
I never would’ve stepped foot on that shelter where you lived.

Hard to envision anything any other way
When your wine is strong, with a bitter sense of convolution
Any lap dog would find it easy, to go stray
If they knew the true intentions of your so called revolution.

A peculiar sensation in the back of my mind
Sitting here with such familiar features of things I doubt
What could develop here, what could be left behind
Whatever trail I follow that will for sure become my route.

Leaped from under the fire and all of the debris
I crawled away from the crumbled pieces of my palace
If I knew that past beyond “forever” you would flee
I never would’ve exchanged my heart for this lack of solace.

Hard to position you in any other place
When your rope seems strong, but breaks from its fine line
Any beggar would want to witness your grace
If in their very naivety they didn’t conceive that you are lying.

Walking straight, with my breast held high up
If you need to say something here, you might as well cough it up
‘Cause once I take flight, I won’t be looking back for signs of life
‘Cause I’ve witnessed all you have to offer and it’s all in bitter strife.

You’re undeniably undependable
A plugged-in toaster unexpectedly thrown at my water filled tub
My dignity is certainly not negotiable
And the blood stain you’ve left in my heart is one you cannot scrub.

Amaurotic

This world crumbles
Crumbles down at your feet
Have you ever known?
Ever known of defeat?

The disarrayed poetry
That makes you feel high
That makes you feel complete
It’s nothing but a discarded array
Of supplanted supplemented supplies
Of apparent cosmic prophecy,
An exponential perfidious of
An illusionary romantic morale.

You’re emotionally amaurotic
Stoic to the fact that not always
You’re gonna hurt
This partial loss of your sight
Becomes part of who you are
Of how you feel inside.

This world crumbles
Crumbles in front of you
Have you ever known?
If any of this is true?

The intrinsic intention
Turns the right into obsolete
The distinctive effort to inert
It’s nothing but disjointed display
Of insufficient, insufferable insertion
Of palpable parables paraphrases
That deviates the real objective;
Forcing you into being subjective.

You’re emotionally amaurotic
Stoic to the fact that not always
You’re gonna hurt
This partial loss of your sight
Becomes part of who you are
Of how you feel inside.

Gamble the one thing you have for real
And you’ll lose at the end of this deal
Cause blinders seem to hog onto your eyes
You can’t tell what’s true from a lie.

The Swindler

You seem to like the taste of the dragon’s fire
But you don’t seem to like how it burns
You seem to like to walk on that thin wire
But you don’t seem to like how it turns.

When the lack of shimmer in your golden cups
Make them look like copper to those around
When the mighty head of the higher ups
Seem detachable enough to roll on the ground.

How are you to soar with those giant scissors in your wings?
Trenching everyone from lifting off when they are ready
How are you to wear that blood crown and reign as a king?
Pushing everyone off that precipice when they hold steady.

You seem to like the taste of this devil’s brew
But you don’t seem to like how it fizzes
You seem to like to weight on a scale that’s skewed
But you don’t seem to like the truth when it whistles.

When the lack of glimmer in your silver plates
Make them look like aluminum to those around
When the rising line of the higher rates
Seems collapsible enough to fall onto the ground.

How are you to sail with those heavy cannons in your deck?
Blasting everyone from steering away when they’re ready
How are you to wear this captain hat in this sea of wreck?
Throwing overboard all of those who wish to remain steady.

It seems this big world of yours is captive in this tiny globe
And you spin it around in circles until everyone gets dizzy
It seems your lackeys are the only ones worthy of your love
While you in this quest of indifference keep yourself busy.