The Victim

if you looked at the knives in his back
buried deep with edges so fine
you'd want to change his name
to Mr. Pommel Porcupine

he is the victim, crouching
in the pool of his own tears
the water is now dirty and cold
ripples rending reflection unclear

he tries to reach for the knives
at least he pretends to do so
the look in his eyes is pleading
his wounds never stop their bleeding

does he seek sympathy?
pieces of silver, or time?
the teeth are filed on the piece of shit
that we called the Pommel Porcupine

-----
The potential to rage tirelessly is strong with this one.

cannibal love

a shy gravity
that pulls at our skin
till sinews and marrow start
to revolve around each other
like snakes in heat
the beat of our hearts is out of sync
creating a music
that only we can hear
like drums at a ritual sacrifice where we
cut the heads of all sense and logic
for what did they ever give us?
but doubt and pain
and we eat the brains of our enemies
sitting on our haunches
laughing
in the light of the fires
burning
with flames that lick the moon
but it's alright, you touch my face and tell me
everything is in tune
----
Have you ever wanted to scream? Did you?

drugged on punishment

Hark the bite of winter
Fangs dripping blood of sinners
Intolerable and unforgiving
Punishment seeps in deep tissue

The pain it hits
Like an off-market drug
You are out of your body
Floating on thoughts

You view yourself from above
Writhing like an animal
Trapped in the paroxysm
Of an alien passion

Then comes the silence
In the aftermath of violence
You watch the magic leak
From the bones of the world
-==-=-=-=-
Alien visions of a world traumatized by pain and lust. The hunger that sits in the pits of their bellies, snakes unfurled and ready to strike down those who disobey. There is nothing sacred, there is no truth. There is only what we do and how we suffer.

And of course, I love you. 

regurgitator

all wisdom is a reflection
on the dirty glass of self
chew shit and spit shit
that's all there is to it

regurgitator
motherfucker
did you ever
think a single new thought?

words strung in a dirty litany
plagiarized emotions
tedious contortions
do you even know the meaning of the shit you preach?

the sound coming from your face
is only noise without meaning
even you would hate yourself
and then think that it's demeaning
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Just getting it all out of my system.

Hang on, or don't.

The Eerie Sound of a Dying Heart

It's a mess
a royal mess
feelings and concocted emotions
clamped and shut in a fuckin drum
snowflakes falling
on a lost battlefield
bones broken like promises
litter all that once was
painted in shades of black and purple
lost prayers to a dying sun
the army of souls crowds the passage
to above and below
angels weep
demons howl
death walks
in a crimson cowl
he reaches through
through and through
time and memory
to shake your fucking hand

---
got a beehive in my bonnet, motherfucker.

remains

what is left to say now
when all is said and done
bartered tears, still bitter
fall like acrid bile

the lack of words is peaceful
a void muttering dirges
a cacophony of disgusting sounds
the tides bring forth only bad news

a murder of crows circles the skull
a crown of black menace
screaming at everything in the world
gloomy feathers stick to face

the rage is vomit that threatens to spill
through whatever exit it can find this minute
but clamped shut, giving no fucks
till critical mass implodes this structure

silence

should have barb-wired my lips ages ago
what use are the words that fall on deaf ears
when the meanings change, re-arrange
depending on what they want to hear

should have plugged my ears with wax
what fun in listening to sermons
that make sense only in a make-believe world
while reality gnaws on the edges of the sanity

should have broken my fist long ago
before it became an accusing finger
to point at the logic they never understood
now the words forgotten, bitterness lingers

silence is golden, it costs the same too
now the silence eats me from inside
on the surface everything is calm
on the inside, I scratch the wounds raw
-\-
let it all out, right?

New year,  new fear.