The writings of Oddpoet » angst

Invisible

oddpoet1 — Sun, 02 May 2010 09:44:27 +0000

Can you see them?
There!
Over there!
Open your eyes Mother Fucker!

Yes
They’re wraiths
Specters
Chimeras
Light does not touch them
Slides off em
Like Teflon
You walk through them
Never around

At little Johnny’s soccer game
You step on their heads and laugh
You pull their arms and legs off
Use em
To push their dreams away

That much further from their grasp

Their tears harvested
By your corporate catchers
Who use them
To grease diamond studded pussy

Tasha, 1989
A real good year for pussy

Why?
You don’t fuck
You own
Love will never
Touch your soul

Oh yea
The blind cunt with the scales
Giggles
And says
“I can’t keep a straight face“
“Surely they must know“
“I’m not only blind“
“I don’t even give a fuck“

Laugh
Laugh
Laugh

The Invisible
Do not laugh
They do not smile
Do not enjoy
Golden sun rises
Nor
Nature’s palette
Such beauty is not
For them
They’re angry
Percolating rage
In
Dollar store Haute couture
Dreaming of disintegrating empires
Of castles
Torn apart by bloody hands
Of a World in flames
Of upside down crucifixes
Shoved up God’s pretentious ass

They huddle
In despair
And
They
Plot

Revenge

Justice

They Come for me

oddpoet1 — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 05:00:42 +0000

As if the beats of my heart were unique.
As if I were a star in a long dead constellation
To be resurrected by sad eyes

Layers of false hope strew the stage
Genetically predispositioned to save the gene
I am more than that fuckers!

Climb they implore
Can you not see the light?
I can not be blinded by false hope

Their penciled stick figured God
Would embrace me
Like some chick’s cheap fuck toy

Would you cheapen insanity?
Make it a crawling insect
Searching for death?

I stare at the world
In a ring made of cheap dreams
It ain’t good enough

I go deeper into the maze
The path is down
Not up

I am the last magician
But I ply no tricks
I just dig

Deeper

Silent Death Within The Tomb~para

Para — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 03:34:50 +0000

There are so many suffocating images
On the second story
That they jump for their lives
Like glories on fire
Flaming the sky
With the backdrop clouds
To liven the entertainment
For eyes dry
And clouded over by judgment
And for the tries diminished
At the wake of shrouds
Revealed.

Images that witness their own death
Forced stillbirths
For the sake of held breath
And the measuring of penis girth
Of mere babes
Sealed upon impact
To be memories
Held tight as momentary fact
And glimmerings of what could have been
Of what cannot defend itself
As reality…
Too late
Just another casualty
Of feeling blackened
By the great pharaohs
Elated
Berated again.

They were
But cannot be proven
Again as uncertain
Cremated for blurting the words
Into the volcano of the sun…
What was begun
Was heard
Then spun
Into a thousand shattered webs
Weeping
And keeping tracking of each tear
Sleeping on the edge of the pillow…
Each creeping silhouette
Dissolves
Upon the light of day.

There’s nothing left wide open
And nothing left
With more to say or groom…
The will cuts the
Umbilical
As death screams silence
To echo
Within the pyramid’s tomb
As a bereft womb.

©Jen2010 2–5

Another failed suicide attempt

Eddie Mount — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 18:31:49 +0000

My brothers hear the crash and break the door down… Absurdly, I mentally curse Home Depot and their cheap fucking doors. So there I am with a belt around my neck and the entire drop ceiling strewed about the room. I fucking hate failed suicide attempts. I mean what can you say, “Whoops?” It’s like getting caught by your future ex-wife with your sweat pants draped about your ankles waxing your carrot to the Fredrick’s of Hollywood web site. That has happened to you, right? Please say yes.

I briefly wonder how woman masturbate. Probably with environmentally friendly solar powered dildos. I hate Women.

So my older Bro says, “Dickweed, stick with drinking yourself to death, suits your style.” Gotta love my Brother.

So I decide to go outside, which is a feat in itself because I haven’t left my room in about three months. I find most people boring — I really hate rubbing elbows with the fuckers. I leave the belt around my neck; I figure maybe I can pass it off as some kind of new sartorial style.

I see the mailman and I was going to tell him to stop delivering me mail, I don’t open the fuckers– what’s the point. But, I figured he worked for the Post Office and therefore was in his own private hell.

So I make it to the overpass, beneath me is the New Jersey Turnpike. I read somewhere; it was one of the most traveled roads in the US. I watched the social insects whiz by. I dig the sound. The World is full of songs; you just have to know how to listen.

I notice the inward curving fence and it pisses me off. (I’m always pissed) I mean it’s not like I can’t get some C4 and blow a whole in the sucker.

I know they are trying to stop jumpers. Not because they care about human life, they don’t want you fucking with traffic. I once saw a jumper splattered like sea gull shit on the asphalt. People were getting out of their cars and kicking the dead fucker saying shit like:

“I got a massage in 30 minutes I’m late because of you dead shit”

“I have a two hour window to cheat on my husband and fuck Ted the insurance man”

And my personal favorite:

“Someone scrape this dead fucker off the road”

So I mosey down to the local Dot Head store. What’s his name is at the counter. Cool dude but he has far too many consonants in his name. Hence “What’s his name?” Now, he has this pet Anaconda who he loves, so I ask him if he has any new pictures and his eyes light up and says: “I’ll be right back.” He runs to the back room and I run to chest freezer whereupon I start stuffing frozen Ice cream sandwiches down by pants and in my pockets. I love stealing shit and I love Ice cream sandwiches.

So he comes back and starts showing me the pictures of his pet snake and in the meantime my balls are freezing from the frozen Ice Cream sandwiches stuffed in there and let’s face it, who needs frozen balls.

I give him a fake smile and I split and start eating my plunder. Oh yea, then I went home.

Crossroads

Eddie Mount — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 11:59:53 +0000

Screams

Demonic

Drowning out heavenly choir.

Cherubs

Laughing

Creatures of despair

Singing

Armed only with smirk and pain.

I sit and wait

I already know my fate

My guardian whispers in terrified pleading

“It’s not too late”

Seeking comfort

I comfort.

Wanting relief

I relieve

Needing someone to catch my tears

I find I can no longer cry.

“Go! And salvage the salvageable”

Its screams sucked down by Newton’s insight

At the Crossroads

No color

Battleship grey

Tis a place

No one need be

I am no longer

A Man

But a coruscating semblance of

Forgotten dreams

Transparent

My essence

Displayed

Like a cheap dime store mannequin

One approaches

Glides

Not deigning to step

Another

Flutters down from angry heaven

Two creatures of absolute

Good

Evil

They Vie

“Take my path” they cry

Why?

Mozart and Wagner

Hess and

Cervantes

Approach

Enter

The debate

Cervantes speaks

“Take neither left nor right!”

“Heed Don Quixote’s quest”

“Fight the windmill.”

“There will you find”

“Heart and soul’s true test.”

I cannot

Smile

Wince is all

I can

At the Crossroads

A myriad of paths

Good and Evil

Cry collective disbelief

As they merge and blend into

Logical inconsistency

Pock marked Mozart

Catches my sightless eye

“Only through music”

“Can”

“The heart be sung.”

I

Try

To dust off the pain

But it is alloyed

Fused with my heart

I stand

Knowing my last act

Will be

Defiance

But

One last song

I need to

sing

Here there be Demons

Eddie Mount — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 10:55:33 +0000

It was a rickety old thing…

The train that is…

Filled with busted dreams

And

Salty tears

And faceless people

Who no longer cared

There were not many there to see me off

Just a few…

They begged me not to leave

Where was I going

I had no idea

I was just going

Who can answer such questions

Their tears were touching

As If they knew

I was never coming back

Take directions

No point in that

I never follow them

Go right

I go left

Besides

No matter which way you go

You always arrive at your destination

Looking back

I wonder if I had a choice

If I could have changed anything

Might as well try to change

The color of your eyes

The way you laugh

Will the rain away

I arrived

It was a cold place

The Sun seldom shone here

Twilight the best you could hope for

There were no flowers

Just twisted green things

Reaching out

Towards an invisible savior

In that struggle

They were beautiful

There is much beauty here

A daunting will to survive

Which permeates all life

A dour moon

Which paint all in glimmering ice crystals

An incessant breeze

That orchestrates

A heartrending dance

A Landscape

Hewed from Earth’s tired bones

Stabs out at the night

Proclaiming In painful epitaph

“I am Alive“

But here…

There be Demons

The Envelope

Eddie Mount — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 23:32:42 +0000

I AM SKIN STRETCHED TAUNT

I AM EVERYTHING AND NOTHING

BLOOD, GUTS, BONE, SINEW

AM I MORE THAN THE SUM OF MY PARTS?

I AM ENERGY’S SWIRLING DANCE OF ELECTRONS

I AM THE SCIENTIST’S CONFUSION

TO UNDERSTAND

THE UNDEFINABLE

WHAT CONTAINS ME?

MY EMOTIONS SEETHE.

A MAELSTROM OF NEVER FORGOTTEN DESPAIR

ROOTED LIKE CORAL

SURROUNDED BY TURQUOISE MEMORY

TRAILING TO AND FRO TOWARDS MYSTERIOUS LOVE

DESIRE’S MISTRESS, COLD HEARTED AND FAIR

ALABASTER

STONE

TASTELESS

I AM KINDLING

MATCHLESS,

CONSPIRING DRY

READY TO ERUPT INTO MAJESTIC DANCING TONGUES OF FLAME

I AM THE BLANK SLATE.

AN ARTISTS HUMBLING YEARNING TO BECOME

I AM DEVOTION TO RITUAL

I PLAY OUT IN ENDLESS SCREAMS OF FRUSTRATED CONSTRUCTS

DEATH WHO DO YOU SEEK?

IF NOT ME

I AM THE VAGABOND

HOMELESS

BEREFT OF KINSHIP

WHAT I EAT OTHERS HAVE NO NEED FOR

NO CHARITY

SIMPLE EXCESS

I AM THE BLADE OF GRASS

THE LENGTH OF MY LIFE

DETERMINED BY THE TILT OF THE EARTH

AND THE PARCHNESS OF THE SOIL

I AM THE MISFIT

NO DESTINY

NO FATE

MERELY A CONFLUENCE OF UNRELATED EVENTS

A MUTATED STRAND OF DNA

REPLICATING

BECOMING

ME

DEATH SMILES AND OPENS IT’S ARMS

HE SMILES PLEASANTLY

OLD FRIEND

WE SHALL MEET SOON

I GOT NOTHING BUT TIME

I DO NOT FEAR THEE, REAPER

AM I DIFFERENT THEN THE FALLEN LEAVES THAT FEEDS THE TREE?

OR THE CARCASS THAT THE LION DEVOURS?

SUCH A SMALL PRICE

I AM ILLUSION. YOU CAN NOT SEE ME

I AM THE CHILD READING HESS, CAMUS, FREUD AND DOSTOEVSKY

SEEKING TRUTH

NEVER FINDING

I AM ODIN’S THUNDERBOLT, HERCULES STRENGTH, THOR’S HAMMER AND DIONYSUS LAMENT

I AM THE CASTRO’S BALLS

ROLLING…

TOWARDS CHANGE AND REVOLUTION

I AM THE FORGOTTEN POEMS OF LOVE

I AM BEAUTY NO ONE WILL SEE OR HEAR

LONELIER IS THE WORLD WITHOUT ME

HOPELESS REFRAIN

FEEL WHAT I FEEL

SUCH HURT

SUCH PAIN

I AM A MISTRESS’S BEAUTY

LUST SO PURE

LEAVING HEART’S BROKEN

TEARS

AND PAIN

I AM THE ONE EYED JANUS

I SEE THE PAST

NO FUTURE

NOTHING

BUT DARKNESS

I SEEK MY SOUL

THERE MUST BE MORE TO THIS…

AM I BUT WORM FOOD?

OR A WEAVE IN THE UNIVERSAL CLOTH.

I AM INFINITELY FINITE

I AM LOVE’S LAMENT

I AM GUTS AND BLOOD

COVERED BY SKIN

STRETCHED SO TAUNT.

ORIGINAL SIN

Eddie Mount — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 21:09:36 +0000

WAS I THE LAMB WHO STRAYED FROM THE FOLD?

WITH BLEEDING HEART BEATING SYNCOPATED RHAPSODY

BLIND TO THE TENEMENT CITADEL THAT LIES

WITHIN YOUR FALSE HEART!

CALLING SEX’S’ DESIRE,

YOUR LEGS FLY OPEN LIKE SCREEN DOOR SUMMER!

YOUR MUTATED DNA LAYING CONGEALED AND FERMENTING TOWARDS PATHLESS FUTURE.

WHILE YOU’RE MOANING FORGED PASSION!

CAN HE HEAR YOU?

AM I LAZARUS FRESHLY RISEN

ONLY TO BE SLAUGHTERED ANEW EACH DAY?

PELTING ROCKS AND UNCHIVALROUS ARROWS STRIKING MY FACELESS BACK?

FALLEN HEROES RISING FROM ANCIENT BATTLEFIELDS CRYING HAVOC AND ATTACK!…ATTACK!…ATTACK…!

AM I COMPELLED TO BECOME ODIN’S SPEAR, VISHNU’S POWER AND ACHILLES WRATH?

DO FORCE MY TREAD UPON THAT PATH!

WILL I METASTIZE MALINGNAT CANCERS SCREAMING MY MORTALITY?

WILL THE SAME WIND THAT CHILLS MY SOUL TOUCH EVERY ONE AS FATALLY?

WILL I EVER BE PART OF SOMETHING GREATER THAN I CAN EVER BE?

ROOTLESS AND ALONE AS DECADENT SUMMER’S STORM TOSSED TREE?

IN DARKNESS SO BLACK NO LIGHT CAN PIERCE NOR EYE CAN SEE.

WILL THE LOCKED DOOR OF WISDOM DENIED, FOREVER BETRAY ME

DO THE DANCING PLANET’S CONFORM TO KEPLER’S LAWS

OR ON A WHIM.

AM I FOREVER CONSIGNED TO PARADISE LOST AND ORIGINAL SIN…

The Chrysalis

Eddie Mount — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 21:02:48 +0000

I slithered out of the Chrysalis
The all knowing Raven chuckled
“You have not yet devolved.”
“You will be back”
thought briefly I should snap its neck
But he was stronger than I could ever be.

I parted the veil
And entered the night
Darkness is a gift
To be treasured.
A blanket of false deceit
Truth’s revelation.
The light lies
Darkness knows all

The cold air
Washes over me
A brief stilling of molecular motion.
The caress of an icy hand
Tells me
“Warmth makes you sleep”
“She is the false touch”

The Cold is Dark’s friend
Not so secret lovers
Eternally conspiring

I knew I was trespassing
Treading paths not meant for me
Yet I felt the need
To see
To feel
This abandoned Playground

Sleeping Mannequins
Being recharged
Reprogrammed
New dialogue being written by wraiths
Their toothless smiles planning new heartaches
A child will be raped on this stage
A human heart will stop beating
I could not stop it
Tears froze

I slithered back into the Chrysalis
The all knowing Raven chuckled
“I knew you would be back”
“You have not yet devolved”
I wanted to snap its neck
But he was stronger than I could ever be

Apple Scented Madness

Eddie Mount — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 13:19:04 +0000

I suddenly became aware I was
Distinct
Separate
Alive
Covered in blood
Wondering
What it was
This
Thing
Called life
I heard the cries of aborted fetuses
Seeking repentance
Seeking absolution
For imagined crimes.
Their sin
Inconvenience
There wails drowned
Muted and masked
By heavy machinery
Operated by manic thought police
Dressed as sailors
Carrying hypodermics
Filled with mind fuck

I was to be the trained seal
In the circus of garbage
They didn’t know
I was broken, incomplete
I escaped to
The nightmare of the real

It was not really reality

Nor was it Lies
It was a halcyon era of apple scented madness
Laced with truss rods of greased despair

Blindfolded visions of genetically altered circus midgets
Playing mime to blind audiences

Painted virgins with jism stained dollar bills
Rolled, shaken
And stirred
Inserted Into for sale orifices

The screams of severed heads pleading for body complete

Mutated Pheasants armed with automatics
Butt fucking hunters who scream why?

The dead become annoyed
Seeking eternal rest
Screeching alarm clocks
Awaken them
As the sadistic Gods laugh

Pissed off Zombies crying “Brains”
Can’t find any

Bankers molesting children

Lawyers blowing bankers

Politicians laugh a creaking rusty hinged sound

Sightless lovers seeking fulfillment
Feeling only whores and lies

Mirrors offer no comfort
That swirling mist of promised magic
Merely confirmed who we are not

Truth that cheap FILTHY WHORE

Screams orgasmic shouts and moans
Body quivering
Pretending
She is not a willing sacrifice at the altar of convenience
The victim of lie’s serpent tongued promises?

Engulfed in an ill-fitted black robe of the lonely heart

They are all out of solace

Tears always pave the path to surrender

Emotions seethe and boil

Critical mass reached.

I no longer sleep in a bed.
Beds are for faggots

There can be no comfort here

I roll on the floor
At home with roaches and the denizens of the night

Leathery wings Play serrated whip saw sounds

Only I can hear

The sounds of bare survival

They laugh at joy

Chittering knowing words

They speak
Whispering

“You do not belong
You never did”

Yet they call me back
“YOU WILL JOIN US!”

The sound of cocked pistols
And lawyer lies
Congealed like Hyenas
Barking on an asphalt parking lot

Baby’s heads greasing the treads of wheeled deceit

Yet their vampire smiles
No longer frighten me

“YOU WILL JOIN US!”
The Zombie choir sings
Feigning Mozart

They do not suffer alienation
The law of lies and madness will prevail
No sanctification
No absolution
I ignore them all
Mere tuneless wind chimes
Playing discordant existential sounds of phony despair

Death knocks at my door
He claims us all as his own
He drips drool like Pavlov’s dog

I smile
I have been seeking you Death
Your lies stink
How can you claim one
Who has never lived?

His steps falter
His sickle
Becomes
A broom
And I charge him to sweep the pain from this World

The though police
Captured me
Finally

Kafka was the judge and jury
I was convicted
Of seeking meaning in the meaningless

“Don’t you know?” he laughed
“Life is just a halcyon era of apple scented madness”