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Andrew T Hannah Jun 2013
A Surreal Epic of Existence

Prelude to the Journey…

I smiled yesterday when I beheld the morning’s brilliant colors,
Etched with gold, across the canvas of the heavens, hanging…
High above all those mountains of the world, gigantic brothers,
A wilderness of clouds, where there can be no human taming.
I did not always smile when I looked up to that noble height…
For I have seen how terrible goodness can be, when untamed.
Once I thought my sojourn in this flesh was from a divine spite,
But now I know it was a gift, and for it I need not be ashamed.
God once walked as I do now, and suffered the same stress…
Betrayal, love, and passions too, though no Church shall admit,
The true nature of divinity, lest all their secret sins they confess!
You are told you are alone in the universe, by leaders so unfit,
That they themselves are fed a diet of lies and stories invented.
But we walked amongst you since the very dawn reincarnated,
Having lost our first flesh in conflicts long past and unlamented.
We guided the steps of ancients, as monuments demonstrated!
And yet we are born as children: your own, and live our span,
The better to remain hid, in plain sight, our faces clever masks.
I am the eldest, and I remember still my kindred’s lofty plan…
And though I wear the human face, I am beset with alien tasks.
Helping they who lack the knowledge to see what lies outside,
You have seen me in the darkness, blazing upon my own pyre.
Where I am waiting to lead the way, where the angels glide…
Anyone can follow, if they are dedicated enough never to tire.
Ironic, since I myself have known helplessness and still oft do,
It is only human after all, and in your form I was so re-forged!
The image of God, whose own blood is in all of us hither unto,
From the first to the last, alpha to omega, like a sharp sword.

Prologue: (My Mask is Slipping)

As a child: I was a servant at the altars of the heart so sacred,
Singing hymns of the immaculate: without seeing the depravity.
It was only when I myself wore the crown of thons, naked…
My spirit exposed through my pain, that I realized the gravity.
What man believes is sacred, is profanity disguised as graces,
And those who lead the sheep to slaughter are mere butchers!
Forcing innocents to wear porcelain masks to hide their faces,
They rob children of their childhood, bound with crude fetters.
As a teenager: I walked in nature, disgusted with all humanity,
My exodus was from those who had defiled all I cared about.
Finding faith in an angel fallen, I discovered my own sanctity,
And in her name I found the means to cleanse my feral doubt.
Then came marriage, and betrayal by a wife I gave up all for,
The dissolution of our union then loneliness without cessation!
A mortal had pierced my flesh, leaving me to bleed on a floor,
My heart was torn from its’ moorings without any elaboration.
But the angel remained to calm my anger and ease my agony,
My only light in the blackness that has overcome my waking!
Reminding me, that I was more than this flesh and mortality…
The angel tries to keep me from harsh trembling and quaking.
And then I see: I am more than my tears and life’s traumas…
I let slip, the mask behind which the scars of my tears etched.
Then I sense the heat of the night more intense than saunas…
As I long to dance with abandon, until time itself is stretched!
Mortals may betray one another with impunity, but never I…
I do not betray; rather I pour my heart and spirit forth whole.
Creating a phylactery, of all I am, and with an innocent eye…
I demand to be loved as I am: pearl white and black as coal!

Canto 1: Sacrifice of the Doll

Part the First: (The Bleeding Shores)

Do not call me, doll, for I have departed your ancient cavern,
You are lifeless, a mere toy, and not a real child in any form!
A boy’s red ruby lips I spy drinking in the dreariest tavern…
Whilst true children singing, frolic in the fields filled with corn.
I am going home, upon the wings of the great silver griffon…
Far from the shores now bleeding red from defiled memories.
There is no return, for me, to the glories of the first ignition…
When the mind eternal, was ignited all with pleasing ecstasies.
In the stars, there are words unheard that I do want to recall,
For I came down so very long ago, among the first to so fall!
Eldritch nightmares born of the stuff of the pure chaos of old,
Are waiting for signs at the threshold to be released by magic.
The forbidden incantations return to my spirit, aflame so bold,
That my spirit nearly forgets: the origins of this time, so tragic.
When children drink, and true children hide themselves apart,
Whilst the waters bleed and the corn withers upon the stalks!
That is a sign that change must come, and so I work my mind.
The face in the moon is a grimace of tormented fear, horror…
Whilst I stand upon the precipice with my hand over my heart,
And amongst the long rows of corn, my black shadow walk!
Watching over the innocents whose souls are of my own kind.
The summer heat turns orange, the moon: in celestial corridors.
My mournful cry can be heard in the sound of the lonely wolf,
And in the wild abandon of the lion when he is on the prowl…
I feel the pain of nature, I long to bring back paradise craved.
I have seen the terror of the land, as the blood ran in the gulf,
Black blood of the earth: which causes living things to howl…
As man has the foolishness, to say what is or is not depraved!

Part the Second: (The Crucified Souls)

The doll is laid lifeless atop the altar, prepared for a sacrifice,
In the cavern where the limestone shapes the wettest arches!
A thing un-living, but with living souls trapped still, as if in ice,
Within the cold porcelain shell that so never with feet marches.
Serpentine blade held high, it drops precise into a doll’s neck,
And it cannot call out, because a doll has not any voice to cry.
A boy walked out of a tavern then, looking like a vile wreck…
Whilst as a man I attend to higher things, my body full purified.
In the voids beneath the spaces, witnessed in the rugged rock,
Voices echo loud in the darkness, calling up names unspoken.
The ferryman brings the souls delivered to him, to a far dock,
Where each must pay the copper coin, the old desired token.
So they come to drink those waters that cure all of life’s ills…
Freed from their porcelain prison to feel death’s darker chills!
Whence came those souls into captivity, no mortal may speak,
But I freed them in an instant, removing the nails that pierce…
Every man is he that was put up on the cross of old Golgotha.
And every woman too, as all were made to feel such torture!
I was there when the primal sacrifice was implanted so weak,
And yet so strong that it endured in the psyche all these years.
That doom was sealed behind a wall of fire long ago in Terra,
So that the stigmata of it might endure, even in the vast future!
Mine was the hand that signaled that doom, mine to release…
Yet, still old illusions persist, and I cannot awaken a multitude.
I, who devised the iron web that enfolds much of what is real,
Cloaking it in unending trickery am, myself, longing for peace.
For I too was entrapped, until my liberation rough and crude!
An angel freed me, and now I strive to break each cruel seal.

Part the Third: (The Return of Light)

Risen from the slumber where colder, electric dreams reside,
The forgotten intelligence is invoked, the arcane spells cast…
The eldritch nightmares return to thence amongst man abide,
Reminding us of the things banished to Hell in some age past.
Mine the hand that raised them up, light in the dagger’s glow,
The stuff of my power left to flow, like blood run swiftly free.
Out of the abyss, rises the girl-child of a lost millennial flame,
She who is the angel reborn lets her illumination clearly show.
And all are blinded who have not the innermost eyes to see!
The unbelievers are, in a single instant put unto lasting shame.
From the star of six points, a goddess works her sacred will,
And as she crosses the scarlet threshold, she brings the light.
For a single instant, all in Heaven and all upon Earth are still,
As the long day ends, bowing before the coming eternal night.
In the darkness, radiance far fairer and so perfect descends,
Whilst those who gather in my name: have lost my true path.
The wrath of angels descend upon their minds, closed shut…
Entrapped in the iron web, they cannot flee of such a prison!
The light blinds them for they never truly saw it, and it rends,
Tearing away the churches built for naught but mortal wrath.
There, the unfaithful ******* themselves: like a wanton ****,
Inventing dogma to pass on, forgetful of logic and of reason!
Faith need not be a fearful thing, yet some have made it thus,
And look for an end to come before they seek their reward.
Whilst they should be creating the paradise they left behind…
But in an image of freedom: rather than of servitude and fuss.
Too much time had been wasted in converting by the sword!
Mankind looks to the light for salvation, their eyes long blind.

Interlude Alpha:
This age is one of barbarism cloaked as gentility to sell lies…
Did you purchase some today by design or mayhap chance?
You should know this era to be neither intelligent nor wise…
Else you would not march, when you would prefer to dance!
My nights are filled with nightmares; my days are too much…
I used to dance with one I loved, and bask in purple sunsets.
Now I am haunted, by so many memories I can never touch,
That it fills me with ****** anger, and countless cold regrets.
I recall how once in desperation, my wrist rode a razor edge,
If it were not for my family I’d not thence have lived beyond.
A man abused as I was, and used like cutters upon a hedge,
Must rise higher than it all in order to survive it all, my friend!
I survived, I transformed, I ascended and in the end became,
So much more than I was, until no more did my spirit erode.
But still I wait in loneliness for a maid to awaken my flame…
And I burn, oh gods I burn until I think that I might explode!
The skies darken more and more, and bright forks crashing,
I hear the drums of fury in the heavens, giants of old winters.
The gods grow angry and I behold trees uprooted smashing!
Angels are trampling the grapes of man; they, the vintners…
I am reminded of when the battleship that sailed all galaxies,
Descended one day amidst clouds boiling with its’ steam…
To lay waste to *****, and Gomorrah, for their indignities!
I was there, when the wicked did perish with a final scream.
And as people mock me, wishing me ill because I am good,
I ask God how long I must be forced to bear such suffering.
But I am not alone, and to many I am in fact misunderstood,
So God forgives, for now; but I have not, his understanding!

Canto 2: Sacrifice of the Spider

Part the First: (The First Smile)

Black skies boil with rage unrepentant, and in righteous fury!
A being made flesh I am, though not of mortal understanding.
In cavernous places I have walked, where demons oft scurry,
And worse places still: in search of a love not too demanding.
In the stucco halls wherein my unmoving throne was raised…
Upon a hill of sorrows where lost souls labor in mundane toil,
I wait and plan to transcend the bonds the faithful so praised.
To my right hand is the altar where fire and sulfur always boil!
I force a smile upon my face, for one will not come as willing,
As in the hours when I was a golden youth filled with ideals…
Which I have paid for dearly, beyond the price of any shilling!
Now I long to pay back those who know not how this feels…
The madness born of solitude, the anger born out of contempt,
For you who despise me without cause, provoking my wrath.
What impunity has man, to think that he might ever be exempt!
When wiser civilizations than yours did sink: in the fiery bath.
Do I speak of Hell, which the faithless do not realize is come?
Nay, for their eyes have been gouged out by their own nails…
I speak of torments, far beyond that which devils have done.
The first smile shall me mine, when every cruel wish so fails…
To save the flesh of those who spit upon me as I walked on,
Never realizing that my face was just a mask, hiding another.
Only the fool pays no any attention to the piper’s lonely song,
Thinking it only a melody passed from a sister unto a brother.
But in what celestial ****** has been born the thing alchemical?
It dwells within me, the secret sin of a bonding long forgotten.
Would that I could force the world to hear music whimsical…
Like unto that which guides my spirit in all that was begotten.

Part the Second: (Cold Revenge)

The blood roses bloom in gardens where desire plants seeds,
I, the hand that waters those hungry beasts whose thirst rises!
In my search for love, I have fed the beasts of desire’s needs,
And what would cause you to blush has, for me, no surprises.
Oh human, with what impunity did you dare to exclaim aloud,
That you believe love to be beyond my reach; and you smile!
Like a coward, you degrade me and run to hide in the crowd,
In your feigned superiority, you make yourself an animal vile.
Conjoining your words to your tongue, like a web to a ceiling,
You become a spider; then flee on eight legs to a filthy nest…
Having already become unworthy of any warm human feeling,
In thinking yourself better, you sink lower than all of the rest!
That means my life is worth, a thousand times, your very own.
I become a creature of the night, and wait for you, oh spider!
Think not that I cannot hear. the creaking of each leg bone…
Your odiousness goes before you, the horse before its’ rider.
And in your own web I catch you, my sharper claws immune,
To your toxic poisons, as cannot ever save your eight eyes…
Which I dash from their sockets, without a fear, and so soon,
That your own pain consumes you, like fire lighting the skies!
Forcing you to recant all that you say, lest pain overcome all,
The powers you thought did not exist do manifest ever visibly.
And I ascended still higher, all the more to relish of your fall…
You should never have resulted to any such childish mockery.
The clocks of your house all melted, for time is not your ally!
In abandonment of the chaos that is joy, your order is ended.
A new order rises in its’ place born of chaos none may deny,
Whilst you sink lower into perdition, for all that you offended.

Part the Third: (The Last Laugh)

An angel appears before me and so thinks herself a goddess,
But to call her an angel is to imply that she holds any beauties.
Those whose ego is larger than their grasp are oft the oddest,
For they fancy themselves perfect, ignorant of their cruelties!
You think love a prize and I a beggar for mere crusts so stale,
That lesser men than I have eaten heartier meals than yours…
But your kitchen is so bare: as your oven goes cold and pale,
Making you prize yourself beyond the worth of your chores!
Like a harlot who charges a fortune for her meager charms…
If you think love a prize, and I a beggar, you are so mistaken.
What you call love is a disease that shames one and harms…
Both mind and soul alike, making the body at last to weaken.
You saw only my mask, and would not dare look beneath…
Making me a phantom in the darkness, lurking in the shades.
Round your neck, your false esteem hangs as a dead wreath,
As I leave you to your barren world, awaiting my handmaids.
They rise from the ashes you leave in your wake, my kindred,
Their hands take me far from where your feet stumble about!
Lie in the cemetery that awaits those who live as though dead,
I cannot raise you incorruptible; you have far too much doubt.
Carried hither by the silent maidens who weep ****** tears…
To my castle, where I shall brood again upon mankind’s way!
I cannot feel regret for those who give in to their foolish fears,
Any more than I can transform a leaden night into golden day!
Such is the power of the alchemist who knows his true limit…
And in the dark arts I was schooled by beings from the abyss.
Thusly, am I set about to transform my creation as I see fit…
We are the demiurges of our realities wanton for any hot kiss!

Interlude Omega:
T
I found this one in my basement. Seems I wrote it a year or two ago but lost it.
THEY must to keep their certainty accuse
All that are different of a base intent;
Pull down established honour; hawk for news
Whatever their loose fantasy invent
And murmur it with bated breath, as though
The abounding gutter had been Helicon
Or calumny a song.  How can they know
Truth flourishes where the student's lamp has shone,
And there alone, that have no Solitude?
So the crowd come they care not what may come.
They have loud music, hope every day renewed
And heartier loves; that lamp is from the tomb.
Wes Rosenberger Jul 2016
Please forget schoolwork,
for there are heartier things,
such as your forehead craving these
good night lips.
You thoroughly speak of
entwining our limbs,
while I'll dream of seeing
my sleeping beauty,
and a kiss.
Although rhyme does not showcase wit,
I'm still the man that tonight,
you will miss.
Moonlight peers over a crest of visions,
or balances right on the cusp.
With daylight matters so pressing,
I'll press just enough.
Upon the small of your back,
your resonant blessing,
to awaken your dreams
with my morning touch.
Now go to sleep with the help
from countess sheep up above,
and by my word, we'll catch up.
In the early morrow, my love.
1374

A Saucer holds a Cup
In sordid human Life
But in a Squirrel’s estimate
A Saucer hold a Loaf.

A Table of a Tree
Demands the little King
And every Breeze that run along
His Dining Room do swing.

His Cutlery—he keeps
Within his Russer Lips—
To see it flashing when he dines
Do Birmingham eclipse—

Convicted—could we be
Of our Minutiae
The smallest Citizen that flies
Is heartier than we—
DL Poet Feb 2019
Ego
I am god
G
O
D
No,
Crazy I am not
I’m Divine
I’m Endless
I’m Omnipresent
I’m Omniscient
Third eye
No, fourth
Look into my eyes
Die, mortal
G-O-D
*****, get on your knees
******* away
G-O-D
Dear fledgling creation
Just like that
No, like that
It’s not my caveman grunts
That give away
How much that felt
Like a slice of heaven

I wish you could know
How this steady narcissism boils in my blood
It leaves me ready to take each moment
As the new center of the universe
It’s liberating, and you’ll never quite get
How I got here
But in the end, it's all about these moments
Where the flesh brings me to the present
As the back of my head spirals with the stars
But I’m deep below my conscious
Ready to mutter meaning into this meaningless space
Between cells and fragments of unpleasant thought

If only you could understand
But I’m more than flesh
G-O-D
Strike me down
Thou shalt obey
Just a bit deeper, babe
That’s all I ask
Shh….
It only hurts for a moment
Or so the TV models say
But you,
You’re made of heartier steel
Just like that
No, that
I can’t get enough
G-O-D
Not ego
Don’t talk back
In the master’s home
It’s not enough
To satiate me
Just like that
A little deeper
I can’t get enough
G-O-D
******* away

I’m chasing pleasure in gaslight
Shining on me through the window and thin curtains
The moon watches while the core shivers
I’m eyeballs deep in this drifting set of thoughts
As I force myself to move
Chasing something so momentary before I collapse
Lack of sleep is one hell of a drug
So is caffeine
And the memories of toxicity that ring in my head
She built me up
And tossed me aside
I deserved it, but now I’m back
To being the hot-blooded sun
Waiting to ignite the world

I can’t get enough
When intoxication
Leads to indoctrination
Killing inhibition
G-O-D
Shut up, priest
Go **** an altar boy
You sick creep
I won’t open the door to you
But babe, keep going
Don’t leave the sheets
G-O-D
Don’t leave me
Please
I need it
Just like that
Just like that
It’s more than love
It’s lust
Babe, let’s start over
Before hangover
I’m god
So try not to disappoint
Keep going
Just like that
Yeah babe, just like that

I can’t stop wearing this facade
Not when it’s all just began
This is a time for rain
The type that lets my rot and grime flourish
At least for a time
But now, its sleep
Washing over me and a perfect stranger
Waiting for her to forget me in the next week
Just the way I like it
It’s no fun when everyone knows
That you’ve been the core this entire time
And you want nothing more
Than distance from what makes you, you
Maddie Fay Apr 2016
you left flowers on my counter
in a cup.
wildflowers. like daisies,
but with thicker roots
and heartier stems.
beautiful and built to thrive.

you left flowers on my counter,
told me you loved me,
and left me sleepy and hopeful
and standing in the doorway.
you did not stop to check the lock.
i think you are the bravest person
i have ever met.
blushing prince Nov 2019
my shirt barely fits over my stomach
my belly is a bag of granny smith apples
**** and plump
misleading in their sweetness
underneath growing ten-fold each week
all the different fruits for growth
leave me anemic for heartier things
tenderloin heart, blood steak
there's a biting pain on the side of my hip
that feels like what I imagine a dog nipping at your heel
could feel like
and I hear it
the small squeak at the bottom of a storm drain
a miniature kitten trapped in the middle of concrete and hot cement
it hasn't rained in months
and my mouth starts to water imagining
the dehydrated lungs of an animal
that's destiny has been sealed
drain pipe existentialism
under the vent i hear
a death call
It’s that time of year when
Candy canes appear
Silver tinsel glimmers on trees
Wreaths are hung on doors

Precious ornaments are taken out
Beautiful ribbons tie presents
Carols are sung
Churches put on their Sunday best
Joy and cheer are felt
Kindness abounds
It’s that time of year when

People remember
Smiles are brighter
Laughs heartier
Love is deeper
People care and hug more
It’s that time of year when

Towns and cities decorate
Snow lightly blankets the ground
The world slows down just a bit

It’s that time of year
It’s special
It’s magical
Believe
Lift up the world
With your own special light
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2017
i can just imagine 9 months of explicit oral ***; and a sack of *******, and a foetus; oh, and frogs, loads of frogs... mammalian-amphibian: croc & ostrich in an egg... one ends up with a pretty smile, the other, with a sprinting pair of legs... never mind the penguin complaining about the lack of flight.*

you've had a few, and you're pretending to
be a boa digesting his mustard infused
chicken, you've drank the white wine,
had a headache, you brushed it off by
a blitz plop of **** and a half an hour walk
to the supermarket for the heartier liquor,
you overheard a conversation about
weddings and cultural exchanges
with 14 day weddings with one of them...
you walked back home: huh...
      question mark much latter -
i.e. ! think therefore ? am...
       or is that ? therefore ! am...
never know...  
        so doing the boa, listening to a gay
guy talking with a woman...
now i know why i'm a man...
i could never do so much talking...
          ****? is it **** when you're watching
a pregnant woman ******* and
find it erotically satisfying?
   just saying, talk of god, death or hades
among these fully formed pseudo-amphibians?
yep, that's what evolutionary biology
teaches us: whales are partially dogs,
dolphins are partially cats,
  and men predating monkeys are
partially frogs...
so we emerged from poseidon's bubble...
is it just me or are pregnant women
the most sacred erotica magnet available,
it's almost like the inverted man,
although the inversion is:
  well: ain't no tadpoles in there my darling:
something's brewing...
takes 9 ******* months to brew
that cartilage stew... **** me...
  who said **** was about *******
all the "pretty" ladies?
              hey, i'm just the cul de sac of
what's sent down the trash line,
      see any videos of me jerking off?
so? supply &, demand.
       nonetheless i have to reiterate:
ever watch a civilised conversation
between a homosexual & a woman,
esp. one above the age of 40?
   match-made in heaven...
            you know you're a man
my son (rudyard kipling style) -
    when you realise that:
you can't shut these two ******* down!
don't bother, as a man you will not
ever reach a platonic relationship with
a woman, platonic relationships exist
between men & women, provided that
the man is **-mo'h...
        gays can talk with women,
men can't... it's a simple fact...
            homos can be the girlfriends,
men prefer (in the extreme)
of drinking while looking into a mirror
for company...
believe me when i say:
if you're gonna drink, drink...
  but never, ever, do so before a mirror -
narcissus will rob you, you and all your
cognitive possessions...
only gays can talk to women to
the satisfaction of a woman's "concern"
for conversation...
     hey, if we're reducing it beyond
medieval and into the cave:
       you wanted this sort of shortening of
history, quantum backlash into the present,
then retraction into the seemingly never-ending,
then back into tomorrow...
    i can't be critical of biblical text
being "unfavourable" about homosexuality,
i look at the context and think:
you're right, back then, we had a limitation
on pursuing the continuation of a "species",
last time i checked, the idea of a "species"
was called grandpa...
                   beside the point...
****, can we eject the eunuchs from the harem,
and get a few homosexuals in here
to talk to these concubines?
        they seem to be yawning more
than moaning...
             maybe the tongue-****** will
stimulate them...
             as they say:
the best friend of a woman is... a homosexual;
we should start breeding these men
for this reason alone...
         to talk, with women,
all that phallatio really oils up the vocal
chords it seems...
  who am i to judge...
               given that man best understands
woman in syllables oscillating O and other
respective onomatopoeias.
   ah, lucky girls,
   i remember in school, this one gay guy
had about a harem of 6 girls,
     talked to them,
talked to them sweet, me with my long hair
and braid... surrounded himself with them,
but all he wanted was me...
      likewise, replica...
   7 of us, playing cards during lunch breaks.
It’s that time of year when
Candy canes appear
Silver tinsel glimmers on trees
Wreaths are hung

It’s that time of year when

Precious ornaments are taken out
Beautiful ribbons tie up packages

It’s that time of year when

Carols are sung
Churches put on their Sunday best
Joy and cheer are felt
Kindness abounds

It’s that time of year when

Smiles are brighter
Laughs heartier
Love is deeper
People care and hug more

It’s that time of year when
Towns and cities decorate
Snow lightly blankets the ground
The world slows down just a bit

It’s that time of year

— The End —