What sank the Titanic is no secret,
The ice berg is more famous than the ship.
King Arthur is modish man,
Laying with the young.
Jack the Ripper was a psycho,
Or a misunderstood revolutionary.
It's later than ever to turn around,
When I've given up on expelling my demons.
King Midas would have done much better,
Were he to choose dust.
Dracula was thirsty,
And, ironically and unintentionally, God provided.
18 April, 2009
+The_Death_Of_Marat.jpg)
High and Mighty, Also Slow
I struggle to think,
To write.
Its my life,
The only thing making me feel
Alive.
All of this worrying I do,
And my mother shrugs and hugs me
Saying,
"Everything is difficult and this world is cruel."
Grueling pain in my tenuous ears.
Justice is served a meal of grog and bread,
And sent to the halfway home for addicts.
Addicts of life.
Slaughterhouses,
Like the coffin here.
Orion, Orion, steady light,
Save me now, in this bright night,
I see too much, I know too little,
My soul, in stride, the irons whittle.
Say it again,
And again,
And again,
And again...
To write.
Its my life,
The only thing making me feel
Alive.
All of this worrying I do,
And my mother shrugs and hugs me
Saying,
"Everything is difficult and this world is cruel."
Grueling pain in my tenuous ears.
Justice is served a meal of grog and bread,
And sent to the halfway home for addicts.
Addicts of life.
Slaughterhouses,
Like the coffin here.
Orion, Orion, steady light,
Save me now, in this bright night,
I see too much, I know too little,
My soul, in stride, the irons whittle.
Say it again,
And again,
And again,
And again...
Still
Every time i see the sun
Be it in the morn
High noon
Dusk
I see within it's radiance
The might of it's rage
And i see
Time and time again
It seem to move
When I know
That
Like me
It is still.
Be it in the morn
High noon
Dusk
I see within it's radiance
The might of it's rage
And i see
Time and time again
It seem to move
When I know
That
Like me
It is still.
17 April, 2009
We are Legion
Happiness.
Long ahead.
Long ago.
What's your name, my son?
WE ARE LEGION.
Heathen.
Decadent.
Deadly.
Completely, now are you in Hell?
WE ARE LEGION.
Greatly introduced,
Joyously praised,
Born of the State.
Who are you now?
WE ARE LEGION.
Long ahead.
Long ago.
What's your name, my son?
WE ARE LEGION.
Heathen.
Decadent.
Deadly.
Completely, now are you in Hell?
WE ARE LEGION.
Greatly introduced,
Joyously praised,
Born of the State.
Who are you now?
WE ARE LEGION.
How Long Until Infinity?
Time and love, like a living being,
So thoughtless, they may be.
She sat there, making faces and giggling
Like a hyena,
Like a damned woman
Under possession.
Who knew you would work so efficiently?
So Effortlessly?
Dear god in heaven, my frivolous head
Teeming with the dead lives of fragile days of old.
How i long for those days.
How i long for the infinity of the world to submit itself to measurement.
Tear my body from this ashen earth,
Like frothing billows of maddening girth.
Look to my eyes for belittlement,
For loving hatred,
That this American society lays down for,
That it worships.
Die, die like them all.
It's okay, my beauty,
I wrote words for your love,
Stay here a while,
We could play a dirty game,
A game that old Jim called "Go insane".
Lets let the worms crawl in our brain
And clear the ever flowing stain.
Spanish words will slay our way.
Still, I think your beauty swells
The powerless mind into this hell
That makes the world seem upside down
And gives infinity it's crown.
Zephyr run with dried up leaves
In loo of judgment, time or taste.
And make us see the growing debt we owe to God
Or the Devil's clutch.
So, sicken me now with your tyrant qualms, or kill me with
Your healing storm of growing strife.
Time and love, like a living being,
So thoughtless, they may be.
So tireless upon us, it may seem.
15 April, 2009
James Morrison...Destroyer of Worlds
Tonight the computer tried to eat me.....in the form of jim morrison....
14 April, 2009
Knowledge from Hell
Little by little, the little are defeated.
One by one, the good may die.
Two by two, the kings are crowned.
Three by three, the kings are drowned.
More and more, the big fall down.
Ten by ten, the timid burn.
Thousands by thousands, we all burn.
Dig and dig, the graves in mass.
Rolling and rolling, down they go.
By and by, we sense our doom.
Then again, we know our doom.
Why O! why, does this hell insue?
Because, because, because of you.
One by one, the good may die.
Two by two, the kings are crowned.
Three by three, the kings are drowned.
More and more, the big fall down.
Ten by ten, the timid burn.
Thousands by thousands, we all burn.
Dig and dig, the graves in mass.
Rolling and rolling, down they go.
By and by, we sense our doom.
Then again, we know our doom.
Why O! why, does this hell insue?
Because, because, because of you.
For the Love of London
London fair, my beauty sweet
To you, to you i send my heart,
Through blackened plague and restless mind
The thoughts, the thoughts i yearn to find.
London fair, my frivilous deity,
To you, to you i throw my life,
Through the fright of loneliness and plight
The paths, the paths i yearn to light.
Rose within the patch, so boldly
You may rise within my eyes,
Through the overpowering red
Your white, your white may strike me dead.
My sweet blonde, grown weary from spite
Washed from the shores of your kingdom come,
Through the window, upon the graves
I see you amongst the ashen names.
"Whence you came here, i did see
The joy in life, and all its wonder.
Now I've dipped into the lake,
And now i ask, when will I wake?"
"My London so fair," i say through my tears,
"You've not even begun to feel the pain
Of what death has brought, and what Hell will bring."
I grasp my head, and my ears now ring.
"What manner is this? You've put me in pain!
My London, my sweet, why do you retract
When all I do is make light of what has happened to you?
Do you want your cake and to eat it too?"
To you, to you i send my heart,
Through blackened plague and restless mind
The thoughts, the thoughts i yearn to find.
London fair, my frivilous deity,
To you, to you i throw my life,
Through the fright of loneliness and plight
The paths, the paths i yearn to light.
Rose within the patch, so boldly
You may rise within my eyes,
Through the overpowering red
Your white, your white may strike me dead.
My sweet blonde, grown weary from spite
Washed from the shores of your kingdom come,
Through the window, upon the graves
I see you amongst the ashen names.
"Whence you came here, i did see
The joy in life, and all its wonder.
Now I've dipped into the lake,
And now i ask, when will I wake?"
"My London so fair," i say through my tears,
"You've not even begun to feel the pain
Of what death has brought, and what Hell will bring."
I grasp my head, and my ears now ring.
"What manner is this? You've put me in pain!
My London, my sweet, why do you retract
When all I do is make light of what has happened to you?
Do you want your cake and to eat it too?"
Things Behind the Sun
Hurricane,
Endless test of time...
Said the birds of the hill,
"Little known the ways of man be,
That we may die and you may see
And stop it not though you know it wrong.
Ye may just yet stop and think
That maybe all the killing be
Something bad that sets none free."
But they may listen never, for they want naught the little birds alive
They want but life for themselves
And to witness the unknown behind the sun.
How may anything be left to chance,
Like the death of another or the life of a bird?
Is it right to be a dead man in a time of unrest?
So it may be said the birds may burn to those who see,
And little may they understand or care
Because the birds are different,
And they don't speak their language.
Return to the beginning
Of the Hurricane.
AHHHHH!
A fright in this dark end of the world
That splays the comfort of home and family.
Going back to the television, or radio,
Unknowing and believing in the solidarity
And content of the American household.
Direct result of murder in their sleep.
We know this violence
We know it's shadow,
It's name,
It's place and time.
Why do we die?
To heed warning to those oblivious?
Nay, we never die for any reason.
We just
End.
Set in stone, beyond the light,
Is spotted dark...
Endless test of time...
Said the birds of the hill,
"Little known the ways of man be,
That we may die and you may see
And stop it not though you know it wrong.
Ye may just yet stop and think
That maybe all the killing be
Something bad that sets none free."
But they may listen never, for they want naught the little birds alive
They want but life for themselves
And to witness the unknown behind the sun.
How may anything be left to chance,
Like the death of another or the life of a bird?
Is it right to be a dead man in a time of unrest?
So it may be said the birds may burn to those who see,
And little may they understand or care
Because the birds are different,
And they don't speak their language.
Return to the beginning
Of the Hurricane.
AHHHHH!
A fright in this dark end of the world
That splays the comfort of home and family.
Going back to the television, or radio,
Unknowing and believing in the solidarity
And content of the American household.
Direct result of murder in their sleep.
We know this violence
We know it's shadow,
It's name,
It's place and time.
Why do we die?
To heed warning to those oblivious?
Nay, we never die for any reason.
We just
End.
Set in stone, beyond the light,
Is spotted dark...
13 April, 2009
C'est a toi?
Jessie does as jessie do,
Sure fire crazy
And so are you,
Like the tides and ambrosia new,
Jessie does as Jessie do.
Sheets of iron, sheets piled twice
Hearts on fire
Heads on ice,
When the world, in two, is spliced,
Won't you, won't you be so nice.
Sure fire crazy
And so are you,
Like the tides and ambrosia new,
Jessie does as Jessie do.
Sheets of iron, sheets piled twice
Hearts on fire
Heads on ice,
When the world, in two, is spliced,
Won't you, won't you be so nice.
Abundance; Cow Herd
I thought that this life would bring me to a height...to somewhere beyond the rain...ive never been one to be afraid...but abundance in fear leaves me feeling flawed and unimportant in my ventures...do i have the volition and drive to put together my ideas?...ive seen others fail...and fail again...but within the confides of this life, this much is certain...that a life without permient reason or wontoness in whatever it is you want, is no life lived or even remotely given...ive been to hell and back...ive seen every person in this life find nothing because from the very second they join this existence...they are taught to love everything their parents tell them...acceptence is the product of apathy...we are all lost to apathy...i sometimes wonder if what i write down everyday even matters...if what ive been striving to convey in things i give people has any substance...then i think if i could ever write anything good at all...i think...for hours i just think... and then...like every cow in the field must do when the duress of insight becomes too weighty...i graze...unaware...until a day comes where i must see...
Inauguration; Flitter Flutter
Like the days when the light used to shine
Tides of Ice upon the falling side
To feel the flowing essence, we will radiate the power of affluence
In conjunction with the lucidity we all enthrall ourselves with,
I shall convey this heretofore mentioned upon the days of now.
Though little lights the sun in days of now
We may be able to find such elegance in the amalgamtion of our sun-drenched heads
And it is here, in the valleys and plains, the low-lands where so much is set free,
where we shall inherit the meek and the world shall ascend,
But lo and behold the projection of our souls, for it is the fear of light that ends the fear of dark,
Though all otherwise noted, we have been led to the believe,
That though we think
Our thoughts matter little.
NAY! i exalt!
NAY! I retort as the belittlement continues.
I say rise and meet the light.
I say rise and fear the dying of souls within this so sought after life, And i say now,
To those i have long loved,
To rage against any hinderance, and rise against any flaunted, daunting haunt
And break the bonds so helsd within these valleys,
And rise, like Icarus, to heights unimagined by those stuck in the purgatory of the valley,
And preach my love upon the hills of time.
Everyone lives,
Everyone gives,
Everyone crys,
Everyone why?
Everyone dies, though justice is flown away, and little is explained.
Who dares the might of the colossus?
Who fears to mourn the impatient?
May it be said to those who disillusion themselves by pulling hard on the rope of fate
That all we may percieve is a faulty, gregarious disertation on the look of life?
Put together by some spouting madman on the hills of thought and reason?
Again?
Find yourself.
Tides of Ice upon the falling side
To feel the flowing essence, we will radiate the power of affluence
In conjunction with the lucidity we all enthrall ourselves with,
I shall convey this heretofore mentioned upon the days of now.
Though little lights the sun in days of now
We may be able to find such elegance in the amalgamtion of our sun-drenched heads
And it is here, in the valleys and plains, the low-lands where so much is set free,
where we shall inherit the meek and the world shall ascend,
But lo and behold the projection of our souls, for it is the fear of light that ends the fear of dark,
Though all otherwise noted, we have been led to the believe,
That though we think
Our thoughts matter little.
NAY! i exalt!
NAY! I retort as the belittlement continues.
I say rise and meet the light.
I say rise and fear the dying of souls within this so sought after life, And i say now,
To those i have long loved,
To rage against any hinderance, and rise against any flaunted, daunting haunt
And break the bonds so helsd within these valleys,
And rise, like Icarus, to heights unimagined by those stuck in the purgatory of the valley,
And preach my love upon the hills of time.
Everyone lives,
Everyone gives,
Everyone crys,
Everyone why?
Everyone dies, though justice is flown away, and little is explained.
Who dares the might of the colossus?
Who fears to mourn the impatient?
May it be said to those who disillusion themselves by pulling hard on the rope of fate
That all we may percieve is a faulty, gregarious disertation on the look of life?
Put together by some spouting madman on the hills of thought and reason?
Again?
Find yourself.
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