Invisible tentacles
Push away the sky
Demonic hoards work gravity machines
And archaic machinery
Fueled by lust and burning souls
Faces replaced by black hearts
Not deigning to beat
Flying Iridescent insects wingless
Fall
Deeper Into the chasm

The insatiable void
Devours screams into silence
Just below the slow lurching rhythm
Of organic cogs pleading
For release…
Pleading to the supreme muscle
That will never cease.

The mechanisms of the hole
Have all become visible.
Each mask of flesh
And tissue has dissolved…
The pretense of all human issues
Has been resolved
With the clarity of a single glance
Inward–
Into the eye of raw primordial reality.

Eerie calm
Amidst the howling silence
Essence distilled
Granulated
Awaiting deployment
Shape Shifting shadows
With wands made of clouds
And abandoned bones
Prepare incantations
Ectoplasmic scripts float upward
Nucleotides seeking union amidst the pulsating mass
The Hole prepares for birth

All possible data
Has been collected
The embryo
Weathered by caustic evil
Intentionally unprotected
Emits a siren’s blaring cry
Of living…
Of living…
The initial sign
Of human life unforgiving.

Like a dead fish.

Gazing at deep magic

Inside….Out.

Pillars of lust

Smothered

Wrapped in cellophane.

Locked to immoral paths.

Visions in black and white

Against prescribed standards of efficiency.



I peered out of my window

That TV screen whose channel never changes.

And I SEE!

Androids filled with pretended purpose.

Running to and fro toward mock destiny.

I see them harnessed like cattle and led to troughs of offal where they feed.

Smiles fill there vapid faces.



For this was Life!

I see them walk pass fake trees and counterfeit sunlight.

Night nothing more than an unplugged lamp.

They flash their vampire smiles

Teeth gnashing

Hunger’s need temporarily lending false passion to nothingness.

They see me and wave, “join us, and become one of us!”



I am the Last man alive.

I will never let them stick that straw of death into my head

And suck out my passion, love and being.

I will never leave this place

I shall be content to gaze out my window

That TV screen whose channel I can never change.



Tears fill eyes

Pity fills my souls

I am the last soul alive

And I shall never leave my place.

For I will never become one of them.

“To be or not to be” Any of you dudes out here truly know what question the Bard asks?
Well, not many people think about mortality. Don’t blame them.
Back to “The Bard” six words that defines the nature or essence of our existence.

I am the only jerk off, I think, who will call God a Dickweed! Just did it, not smited yet, (guess that comes later)

Anyway, I go to Heaven, and there is God, drooling and snoring on his recliner, remote on the floor, a Hustler mag on his lap.

So I wake the fucker up.

“God, wake the fuck up, your “Creation” is in dire need of your omnipotent services.”

Well, the fuck snores away, well on the 7th day he rested. I did not take that to mean a fucking permanent vacation. I am forced to slap his fucking noggin!

Well, I did and he finally wakes up, thunder, lightning the whole show!

The Archangels have blades drawn on my throat and even those faggot Cherubs are biting my ass. Cause I pissed him off.

“Poet”, he says, as he wipes the droll from his lips, “did I not kill you? Or, at the very least, it has to be on my things to do list.”

Well, that did not give me a warm and fuzzy.

“God, Ultimate Dude of Dudes, A little help is needed on earth.”

“Poet! Asshole, The only reason you exist is because you are a funny fuck!
Don’t push it BABE!” “And, being omnipotent, I bequeathed, free will upon ye. Which, ultimately means…You’re on your own.”

“God! Alpha and Omega, hear me out Dude. I understand the free will concept; but, maybe some guidance, a miracle here and there.”

“It’s a miracle you are still alive!”

“I know God, Emperor of all Creation, I am an asshole, freely given. But how bout some miracles! Maybe cure every child suffering from cancer under… say 12?”

Must have struck a chord, because I could see his Divinity thinking.

I took the time to surreptitiously kick one of those faggot biting Cherubs in the groin. I swear if God was not there I would have kicked all those little fuck’s asses

“Poet, I see your point. But I hesitate to interfere with Humanity. Free Will I have ordained”

“I dig it, Big Chief of the Universe, But Satan’s running rampant on earth, war, disease, famine and Republicans have been running the show!”

“REPUBLICANS!!!!!!” I could see the big guy was upset; however, he continued.

“I see your plight Poet, but free will rules the day. I can not interfere and that is final!”

“God, head honcho, think I can get in to see JC?”

“Poet, you are very close to being dead! get out of here. You are not coming here anyway!” “Nor can you expect an invitation in the future.”

Seeing that I was outnumbered, and the fact that he was right.…and.…. God did not give a fuck. I was ushered, not too kindly, I might add, from Heaven, And Poof I am here.

Gee, aren’t you lucky. Well, thinking of a way I can crucify myself. Got the wood, know I can nail my left hand to the cross, the problem is having, said, left hand nailed, I am unable to nail my right hand to the cross! Which requires me to plea for help!

Ring.….…..

“Hello” “Ehhh.….Don, I need a hand.“
“Poet…watts up, Dude!”
“Don, I need a hand.”

“What?“
“I am trying to crucify myself and I need a hand.”

“Christ, Poet are you into one of your to be or not to be moods?” “Fuck you!” Click.….

dial tone…

Well.…That IS the question

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

Or

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

“To be or not to be” Any of you Dudes out here truly know what question the Bard asks?
Well, not many people think about mortality. Don’t blame them.
Back to “The Bard” six words that defines the nature or essence of our existence.

I am the only jerk off, I think, who will call God a Dickweed! Just did it, not smited yet, (guess that comes later)

Anyway, I go to Heaven, and there is God, drooling and snoring on his recliner, remote on the floor, a Hustler mag on his lap.

So I wake the fucker up.

“God, wake the fuck up, your “Creation” is in dire need of your omnipotent services.”

Well, the fuck snores away, well on the 7th day he rested. I did not take that to mean a fucking permanent vacation. I am forced to slap his fucking noggin!

Well, I did and he finally wakes up, thunder, lightning the whole show!

The Archangels have blades drawn on my throat and even those faggot Cherubs are biting my ass. Cause I pissed him off.

“Poet”, he says, as he wipes the droll from his lips, “did I not kill you? Or, at the very least, it has to be on my things to do list.”

Well, that did not give me a warm and fuzzy.

“God, Ultimate Dude of Dudes, A little help is needed on earth.”

“Poet! Asshole, The only reason you exist is because you are a funny fuck!
Don’t push it BABE!” “And, being omnipotent, I bequeathed, free will upon ye. Which, ultimately means…You’re on your own.”

“God! Alpha and Omega, hear me out Dude. I understand the free will concept; but, maybe some guidance, a miracle here and there.”

“It’s a miracle you are still alive!”

“I know God, Emperor of all Creation, I am an asshole, freely given. But how bout some miracles! Maybe cure every child suffering from cancer under… say 12?”

Must have struck a chord, because I could see his Divinity thinking.

I took the time to surreptitiously kick one of those faggot biting Cherubs in the groin. I swear if God was not there I would have kicked all those little fuck’s asses

“Poet, I see your point. But I hesitate to interfere with Humanity. Free Will I have ordained”

“I dig it, Big Chief of the Universe, But Satan’s running rampant on earth, war, disease, famine and Republicans have been running the show!”

“REPUBLICANS!!!!!!” I could see the big guy was upset; however, he continued.

“I see your plight Poet, but free will rules the day. I can not interfere and that is final!”

“God, head honcho, think I can get in to see JC?”

“Poet, you are very close to being dead! get out of here. You are not coming here anyway!” “Nor can you expect an invitation in the future.”

Seeing that I was outnumbered, and the fact that he was right.…and.…. God did not give a fuck. I was ushered, not too kindly, I might add, from Heaven, And Poof I am here.

Gee, aren’t you lucky. Well, thinking of a way I can crucify myself. Got the wood, know I can nail my left hand to the cross, the problem is having, said, left hand nailed, I am unable to nail my right hand to the cross! Which requires me to plea for help!

Ring.….…..

“Hello” “Ehhh.….Don, I need a hand.“
“Poet…watts up, Dude!”
“Don, I need a hand.”

“What?“
“I am trying to crucify myself and I need a hand.”

“Christ, Poet are you into one of your to be or not to be moods?” “Fuck you!” Click.….

dial tone…

Well.…That IS the question