Rain Fire

Cleanse me, mother sun

I feel so unclean

Won't you let me burn?

Scorch this filth off my skin

Slough this skin off my bones

Won't you rid me of this sin?

In your pure fire, I shall atone

Won't you bathe me in flames

From my head to my toes

If burning is in my final fate

We both know how it goes

Why should we delay

What's going to happen one day

Don't you know that I can't wait

Not anymore

toot

If I don't toot my own horn, who else the fuck will?

2014, when the poems were violent, the rhymes were nicer and the world was not as fucked as it is now. 

What a great time. Gone now. Like mud washed away in a river. 

faith for the faithless

faith is a straw 

for the faithless man

for a man drowning in doubt

silently, for help, he does not shout

gritted teeth that take in water

water that fills up the lungs

going deeper in

wasted away, in the water of sin

dare not show hope

to the drowning man

for that man has given up on his fate

only death can quench the thirst

that all this water could not

bared teeth to the gods that would not listen

dying only to kill again

The Poisoned Pages

He was looking for answers

All he found was trouble

The hammer of truth

Smashed up his bubble

Broke the bones of reason

Common sense and honesty

All that's left in his hands

Is a bible of lies

Every day he tears off and eats

Bitter pages

The ink poisons his blood

Words get stuck in his throat

He swallows and he chokes

When he speaks, he croaks

His gums bleed and his teeth crack

The weight of lies bends his back

But his eyes are open

Probably for the first time

He can see, he can really see

All it took was loss of faith

Now he wants to lose his memories

---

All poetry is simply whining while rhyming

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cube love

i twist you and turn you

i flip and reverse you

in my head the movements make sense

to look like something new

the color shift, a rainbow cubed

the axle grinds under the pressure

movements, a torrent of thoughts

faded observations of words and gestures

every action leads to reactions

the chemicals that leak from our heads and hearts

pool around, ready to drown and

continue to break barriers of thoughts

perhaps one day i'll figure you out

but why the fuck would i want to

this self inflicted torture is a guideline

to make me a rubik's cube to you

The Blizzard

The windows of the mind rattle

In a rhythm that's awkwardly obscene

The cold that creeps in through the cracks

Reminder of all that could have been

Frigid winds make it difficult to breathe

A crepuscular gloom covers it all

Shambling shadows that flit and flicker

Insalubrious intentions slowly crawl

Midst of all this a loon cries out

A shrill sound that pierces the sky

It burns through the dark of the night

Wakes up ghosts that begin to cry

The blizzard rages on 

truth will hurt you free

these words are stuck in my teeth
rotting seeds that make my voice stink
still i speak and i speak unsupervised
for nothing at all is ever a surprise
the obsessive mastication is all that is left
to ruminate, regurgitate, redecorate
the house of cards that stands
through storms and plagues alike
the decaying embellishments linger
swaying like scarecrows in barren fields
waiting for someone to come back home
words that wait for vacant mouths

Pendulum Sonata

wrapped in the cold embrace
of someone I used to be
the skin that folds over my bones
is a prison that won't set me free
the mill that's in my belly
will grind these bones to dust
powered by paranoia and doubt
turning my resolve to rust
so i paste my face onto a smile
try to look like someone sane
while i keep wondering,
what is wrong with my brain
then the fog lifts
doubt melts
the man in the mirror
looks like someone else

Black Hole Cockroach

The final cog in the cosmic machine
A fragment of a dream
Discarded and scarred
Beyond any hope of survival
The screw in the gut tightens
Tightens to the breaking point
While the flesh, muscle, tendons scream
A wordless sound from a black hole for a mouth
Conversations scurry like cockroaches
In a kitchen with a sudden inflow of light
When the focus is on the size of the dog
No one wonders about the bite
Delusions float on the surface of this lake
This sordid collections of thoughts and memories
Light up the fire, fan the flames
With broken lies and unbelievable stories
Should have listened to the shaman
Should have heeded the spirits
Should have cared more for which way the wind blew
Should have given a little bit of shit

----------
Lockdown has me slinging words together that make no sense. Or do they?

Relic of Time

should have been a shaman
reading dead bones
dredging out meaning
where there is none
finding meaning in shapes
that are arcane, obscure
spitting out truths
even when not sure
lying with certainty
dying to abhor
twisting the narrative
to suit the untold lore
to drink the poison tales
and still ask for more
should have been a shaman

chainsaw autopsy

dissect the heroes, split them apart
piece by piece, lungs, spleen, brain, heart
rearrange the jigsaw, find a new meaning
a creature new, uber-demeaning
spill out their guts, decorate the dirt
dig bloody fingers in, scoop out the hurt
smear it all in, colored in sin
what was without, is now within
a monster alive, forced to survive
leaking lungs filled, with liquid oxygen
blood that keeps leaking, heart skipping beats
brain misfiring, eyes unfocused
but the hunger in its gut, is fuel

faithless angels

the rules don't apply here anymore
these are the wild lands of our dreams and nightmares
that leak like old sores
and wounds kept alive by fingering them inside out
we are shackled to our vices
writhing like snakes in coitus
dead inside, eyes alive
will anyone ever miss us?
nothing to live or die for anymore
for once the doubts bleed out
for once the clouds clear
end of the world? Sure.
this faithlessness is apathy extreme
watching the numbers rise on the screen
feeling the face stretch out in a grin
as i sip my tea