Greg, 4 marca 2014
Strange shadows follow me
Into day
The light that was relinquished
Comes with pain
To wrestle away
The waking moments
And castigated dreams
That let me sleep
That let me sleep
Hey baby
You wanna write some lines??
She says no
And bites her morning bread
Leaving the thread half spun
That I must now complete
On my own
But yet weave her in
…only getting a copy
My made up copy
But I want her
So I ask again
Hey baby
You wanna write some lines??
My hands her heart
: She’s looking soul constipated
Pushing and pushing
But nothing comes out
But dry air
And now it comes:
Hoping you’d hear my heart
Trying to correct the order
But…you can’t melt the crystal!
“I just wanna chill”
She says as she backs out of the
Poetic orgy
But now she returns, for a taste
“I want to be in your arms,
And would love some dick”
“To be one with you
And carry your baby
Wander my life with you
Take care of your chubby belly,
Bearded and skinny face”
Feed you with love
To flow back and forth
As the dams break
The cradle will fall
Greg, 2 marca 2014
Six times over
The wheels a turnin’
Pushin mud into the ground
Turning sand and stone to earth-fire
Hearth is warm
And love ascending
Pilgrimage of holy fire-wall
Down into the trenches of ecstasy
The crevices of soul
Growing moss-alive
Tortured tortured tortured
And it jumps back
Out of the terrain
But life has become so full
There is no where to be lonely
Butterfly angels swoop down
To place buttercups in the flower’s soul
In the amalgamation of natures sexuality
The vertex point that drives forward
Evolution and birth and being
And DESTRUCTION
Again jump back
And in Fear and Trembling
Utter a prayer:
Oh Holy Chaos
I come to You in mourning
For ever hold my peace
For ever keep me free
With the concept of ideation
To lose my inhibition
To rejoice in sorrow ecstasy
Lonely and afraid
The hollow mounds around us
Give shadows to the wall dust
Make mountains out of mole-hills
And the other way around
As long as there is structure
The destruction is a-comin’
Forgive me please
I have sinned
For I am-this day
Greg, 1 marca 2014
I see six points of collusion
That come tumbling down
A broken mountainside
Lonely, to abide
By the rationality that subsumes
All it loved and all its light
If only it could just be eaten away
But at the end of the engulfment
There always stays
A spark of eternity
That forever cannot decay
And so I masturbate in misery
In existential suicide
To find the loneliness inside
Of everlasting love and light
But revenge comes to get me
From the volcano that doesn’t forget
Memory and justice
Unrelenting, brings me to my knees
And I cry out
To the hollow night
Hoping that no one will hear
Envelope me in the valleys
And lay my heart to rest
Pulsating and squeezing blood
Showering the vacuous soul
Tumultuous and tormented
As the flow turns into stone
I want to stop
But the fingers press on
And so, I suppose
My heart does as well
Am I my heart?
Is there an I that I can say?
I am all that is said
The entirety of my world
Including the my-ness that possesses it
And castrates chaos into form
Castrates God into the Lord
Fornicate to subsume your whole soul
And perhaps,
By chance
The rose petals will bloom
Greg, 26 lutego 2014
The pain keeps on turning
All the heart beats away
To wake up tomorrow
On the midst of gray shadows
That lengthen in virtue
To be what’s gone dead
It’s a friendly reminder
That what’s in your head
Is made of concrete
And damned silver bills
To climb to the peaks
Of self-seeking thrills
On a meter out done
By another true name
Wrenched from the earth space
The limes and the ice cream
Upon your first face
That drops on the asphalt
Melting in spite of
All that is lost
For nothing’s worth saving
For you anymore
The glamour is fading
Out done by the waiting
To piece a false sermon
Inside of your brain
I stole this from
An artist so holy
Who put his whole soul into
A fleeting song
Mastered by rainbows
And tirades of war men
That wrinkle the time wave
Put you in the dark
Peace on your heart
The cruel silent spark
Greg, 25 lutego 2014
At a certain point
The light grows so dim
Before and after turn to grey
Dismay arrives
On the lips of those who speak
So strong in their word
Link to the aftermath
The shitty fucking poetry
The unrelenting bullshit
Of artistic constipation
I can’t write anymore
My soul has grown weak
And every time the morning blooms
The phone rings
To sweep me off my feet
I’m dying inside
But nobody cares
Because I can’t express it
In artistic divinity
As the poets of great
Who harnessed Spirit
Could
But I promise you
At least my heart’s broken
Please listen
For I have no purpose left
But maybe to resonate
With a passer by
Who will never stop to speak
But in a passing glance
Will share a tear
For the life that has erupted
In petty flatulence
The residuals of nothing
Crust upon my eyes
And leave me blind
To find nothing but fading lies
Hidden behind eyes
That wish to look
Complex and deep
But really are dirt cheap
And made of fraudulent shit
I am so so sad
But I know that no one cares
Please just let me fade away
Crying hollow screams
Resonating in the valleys
And mountains
Teeming with life
Greg, 24 lutego 2014
As moments wait
And years turn to hours
The rebel showers
Shout high above the river-pains
Together with love
Right and wrong emerge
As half-castrated recoils
Into the face of fear
Like shadows of the mystic
I emerge as a force
Not worth fighting for
And hoping to be put to rest
So that my soul may find ease
In oneness with the river of time
The shores are cold
And the more I step away from the cold splash of the water
The more rigid the air gets
The faster life passes by
In the most tormenting of grinds
Gears that shift
The war machine that rides inside
As a manifestly made
Black hole
Upon this leisure
My time-I do abide
Obedience has come to me
For once I see
The light of faith that resigns me
Not to the shore
Not to a wave
But to the river itself
For if I am-caught in a reason
In an objective, grasping glance
I will suffocate on the open air
Of possibility
And if not
Then a vial conditional
So I must submerge myself in the river;
As that which has no option
I remain free
From the constraints
Ney the utter unbearable torment
Of being-among beings
With no essential relation
To the being, that beings essentially are
As a spattering on canvas
That can never touch art
I gasp at air
Being slowly ripped apart
By the rampage of intellectualism
That rummages my soul
Holding love to the glow
Of an iridescent candle
And devolving into meager thoughts
Of that which lies Beyond
Tarantulas come gripping up
From inside of me
The hyper-dimensional resting space
Of space itself
That emerges in a form of undeniable blackness
-A reflection of my own
Dejection runs through my veins
Castration foments in my mouth
To lay barren the sentiments too holy too speak
The repugnant poet
Masturbatory exploiter of experience
As such I stand before you- ashamed
Greg, 24 lutego 2014
The dead rise from the ashes
To play lyrical assassination
With souls that bury;
Deep in fields
The relentless growth
The relentless growth
As we look out to the fields
The flowers bloom
And souls do too
Gazing a far
In a hollow swoon
To love the angel
And death the martyr
The repugnant imitation
Of celestial order
Himself- Castigated liturgy
Momentary eclipses of the sun
To make the light less bright
And we can all have fun
Without the cancer
But my poetry has turned stagnant
Perhaps it has become mine?
Another empty hollow chore
Just another waste of time
The pressure was built for oh so long
To sweep across the streets
And be mauled by all the dust
To lay strewn across the asphalt
Demolished by an oncoming car
But fuck; If I was to be revealed
The soul-crushing aftermath
Will lie dormant
The river rises to greet the swell
And an abomination of the rats arise
Hatred grows deep within
As love is turned to steam-driven trains
And potholes, letting out gasps of vapor
Harshness arising as black soot
As the trains come-lookers greet their way
Good-bye mother
Good-bye father
I have lost my way
To never be found
The night has consumed me in its cold comfort
…To never be consumed
Greg, 24 lutego 2014
Black soot ferments
Deep within the grounds
From which rises the depths
Proportionate to the horror
Of an internal spectator
Personal tragedy:
Raging against the unconquerable
By duty
By essence
Rail the box car over the tracks
And fall it will
But to stay on the tracks is a path to hell
So fire and brimstone
Against which none can avail
Only ease the suffering of lonely stagnation
Of intrepid intimation
Of that with which there is no intimacy
Like lightening that illuminates the night
In which emptiness rides essential
We are gathered here today
To pay homage to the Holy Nothing
The blank slate of immortal change
That resounds like rapids
Against the expectations of a more permanent time
A flow that breaks is the work of cowards
Torrential rain comes to me
To batter my soul
As a black rose attempts to grow
At least to be a battered ram
That maybe to one could show
That blooming is not only the martyr’s dream
But that the martyr is the conscious failure
Awareness that knows of the intimate
But has taken the wrong path
A path requiring courage
This Awareness did not have
So I drift away into chaos
For divine order is only a shadow
A pulsating wound
From where flesh was gaped open
On a sense of trust
That left me soul broken
Greg, 22 lutego 2014
Turning over itself in passion
The river comes to wait
Another moment that rushes by
To wash ashore and die
Stagnate in the finite realms
Bring peace with violence-unity
Awake from the rhythm
And prepare to march
Bring the light
Shout down
For what is the fire?
For what does the ground
Stand beneath your feet?
With what purpose of vitriol
Does the river come to stop you ?
And place you outside
Oh offensive one
You stopped to notice
And brought shame to your name
By becoming outside-to be dry
You have turned to a reference point
An untold lie
That comes sweeping up the riverbanks
To send pain to the maiden
The worshippers of the holy river
That is the manifestation of holy war
Come to the final rest
And set peace in the light
Grab a fork
It’s time to eat our well-deserved food
You have earned your keep
As a being of darkness
A fondled loner
That comes crashing round
As essential sustenance
Gave rise to yourself
To bring death-to God?
What have you done
Oh darling child!
You have forsaken faith
And brought time into being
You have become finite
Greg, 19 lutego 2014
So the tables turn round and round
And a rhyme scheme begins to emerge
From the pits of desolate chaotic fear
Rampaging against
Against
Against….
…against…against
(Drifting to a hollow whisper)
The technology takes over
And implodes my attempt at making something sobering
To drag you down into the shit and the mud
That I revel in
I say that its my pain
But the game is all in my head
Swirling rushes of winds and hairy things
Running like the apostles against the horsemen
Of four opposing winds
Left dormant on the train tracks
To touch the little child
And never look back
Sneak attack
The ego that resides
In the meadows of poetized
Living, breathing butterflies
That have beauty so true
And appreciation so contrived
That I could find it dope sick
In the back alleys of a whore house in Japan
In the meddling pussies of the young girls
Who give their life into the hands
Of Western glory businessman
Who are rapists, but innocent all the same
I am condemning for the sake of easing
Some of my inner pain
Rush rush rush down the alley way street
To hear the beats
Of feet that tell stories
And the children come together
Holding hands in cold hands
The band erupts softly
To heed quiet the land
The sand that seeps softly
Between our tangled feet
Aghast at the shoreline
The whispering foresight
The languishing preparation
Of sad gypsy songs
Hear the cries to fall hollow
Bring light from beneath ground teeth
Sink the pail
Own the reliable serpent
To come up your leg into the sacred lick
Command Command Command
I am Afraid!!!
Relinquish the background hologram
And touch the penguin’s feet
Alone in the night
Speaking of fright
Lunging at light
To feel incomplete
Jack off the shadows that swallow your head
Rail the gears and break…
The rhymes are descending back into hell
Into chaos
And the meter breaks
CRACK
I want to write more
But I want to feel satisfied
And if I keep writing we will walk on forever
Like Da Vinci who could never smile inside
But to notice the gruesome frown that ripped at his soul
And in maniacle terror
And inward asceticism
Chased down the rabbit hole
To find nothing and no one
The sunstricken grief
Of a life incomplete
Regulamin | Polityka prywatności
Copyright © 2010 truml.com, korzystanie z serwisu oznacza akceptację regulaminu.
Poezja
Proza
Fotografia
Grafika
Wideo wiersz
Pocztówka
Dziennik
Książki
Handmade
