Archive for the ‘Enigmatic Poetry’ Category

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.

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I wrote this last month, but never posted it. It’s from the point of view of an asexual person.

Key Hole

I’d like to see you naked
Uncover the mystery that hides under your pressed on clothe
That cold, silky, pale skin, like a mannequin
I would like to see you dance when you’re unaware that someone’s watching.

‘Cause you’re you when you don’t care if nobody notices
You’re you, in the dark, in the loneliness, in the silence.

I’d like to see you transparent
Without all of that bullshit that you put on for the audience
Those lines that are drawn on your face when you smile
I would like to see you undone, raw, in the verge of a spontaneous combustion.

‘Cause you’re you when you don’t have to hold the ball
You’re you, in the fragile, shameful, reality of uncertainness.

Sulkier for the stalker whose eyes are restraint
You’re like that portrait I would like to paint
You’re a web and I’m tangled in your strings
You’re like that song that I would like to sing.

Your soul is like a key hole
Whose spectators are looking in
I want to unwrap you whole
Grant a place for your bare being.

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.

Absurdum Excedunt

Void, when the spiral closes
Just a vast of endless darkness
Like being buried in charcoal
But gravitationally weightless.

When all science fails
And the conclusion’s flawed
All of the mathematical method
Spurs like blots across the drivel.

Incongruent and inconsistent
Where’s the strict impeccable exposition?
For those who are dull minded
Like moths drifting towards the bright.

Eternity and energy in a fragile vessel
How can you sustain such accumulation?
Myths and mysteries drawn in numbers
Where the true enlightenment slumbers.

Singular Purpose

Dimwits own the world
Damn the day they were given a voice
Dumbfucks rule it all
Damn the day they were given a choice.

“So much potential wasted
Contained in my low self-worth”
She says to me with tears on her eyes

I’m self-destructive
My arrogance is brutally honest
Fuck the god in all of us!
As useless as the one above this world.

My agnostic thoughts contrast my belief
How can I be another stupid atheist?
This knowledge cannot fill the gap in my soul
I’m feeling the fragility of being a human.

Share my story in order to gain wealth
Make me useful, sell my soul to y’all
I don’t care, take it, just take it all
Free me from this excessive freedom/boredom!

I cannot find my singular purpose
To rape all of you with my every lie
Come, come out and give me the choice
Maybe I need to feed the shadow inside.

To make peace with the demons that lurk
And accept the things I cannot change
I’d be bending spoons, but all I have is a fork
Which I use to stab the nerves in my brain.

Inexorable

Oh, it shaken me
Like a big storm
I felt it on me
Like a premonition
Out of the depths
Coming from the lengths
With furry,
In flashes,
In great speed
Knocking me off
This gallows
I was hanging from.

Face down the ground
I’ll rest here awhile
As the crowd steps over me
Best to die by a hoard
Than to die by the claws
Twisted enough to
Bend their own fingers outward;
The ones who wishes to dissolve
The ones who wishes to dissipate
The once centered focus of
All of the things that are right
All of the things that are wrong.

My mutation of a name
Is not a result of a miscalculated
Alchemy attempt, no
It’s just the bastard,
Almost aborted son,
Of the many fathers
And many mothers
Who have whored
As I bowed down
Before their presence
Knowingly the crookedness
And end results.

Wind blow me again
The Widow still calls my name
For so many lives
I have sacrificed, trying to figure out
How to relate to the human race
How to become more of a god
I feed on, and I rape all sense of sympathy
For my excess and for my lack of humility.

From the perspective of someone else

Bodhi – Seoul (Erudire)

This one goes to my father
To my mother
To my God
And all the intentions they had for me.

Implant fictional memories of things I never lived
In this imminent break up, make me choose a side
Such a diabolical plan to take a child to manipulate
Push that love for a cornerstone deep in my insides.

I’ve found my shattered self
In a higher realm
Inside my own
Right where you left my dead pride and soul.

Move me with your strings, like the puppet you think I am
I’ll be bowing my head, waving my hands up, side to side
Dictate all the prayers, and the rules I’m set to understand
Push self-love in a small bottle that I must drink until I die.

This circus that you made of my youth
You made a pact for the cult that was set to sting
To praise a God that never gave a fuck
But now I’ve found a way to be again enlightened, liberated.