alfred-vassallo
Maltese
Born 11/04/56 in Malta Alfred produced and directed several plays as a semi-professional. / He wrote various radio plays and documentaries for radio, and poetry. / His latest book “In Search of a Pessimist” has been published in October, in January 2013 “In Search of CRAZED Love” followed it; with “In Search of Confusion” "In Search of Specific Truth", “In Search of Relenting Emotions”, "Guid Gear in Sma Bulk' are also published on Amazon Kindle alongside and “I Killed Hercule Poroit” a comedy thriller in 2 acts and "I Was Jeshua Friend" a historical Drama in two acts. While "Not Your everyday Poetry" compromises of all the poetry books in One volume. All these books can also been borrowed for free from your Kindle device. / My English website is titled "GUID GEAR COMES IN SMA BULK" and can be found at www.guidgearcomesinsmabulk.com / My Maltese website is titled "POEZIJI MALTIN" and at the moment can be found at / http://poezijimaltin.wix.com/poeziji-maltin
For the day of wrath
I will yell,
the grotesque heaven
is waiting,
to take me to the wide antechamber
of hell,
there I will encounter
the master of darkness,
around,
I shall feel magnetic spell,
the wonderful sound of the exquisite,
pensiveness,
of the souls that fell.
The old prophecy is coming,
my new belief
enhanced.
The hallowed hidden truth
the day of morning,
the day of night will disperse
the world in ashes.
His angels,
and effigies will be waiting,
will protect me,
from the old god,
who has been found wanting.
The old one is now trapped
in cold heaven,
that resides
in the secluded sepulchre,
waiting
for his demise as he’s beaten.
Fear of heavens
will cut out all,
the ancient and boring god
has now been broken.
The mighty expressions of the saved souls,
now residing
in their assured haven.
So appealing,
charismatic and alluring
will be the inspirations
for my heart and mind,
the trepidation
of this great majestic king,
will gladly and freely save me.
I am worthy of my redeeming,
From
the agonies of ancient,
and primeval beliefs,
which trapped me
into a world of disbelieving.
The descendants of Satan
are united,
in a new era of the virginal power,
the bitterness of silence is incorporated,
the forbidden secrets of the infernal,
by intense feelings
are exhilarated,
which will **** up
the darkness,
from our jubilant minds
pitied and restricted.
The chaos of stability
will take full control,
and will enchant
our enriched wisdom,
from developed seeds of our darkest soul,
while the heretic outcasts of heaven
will devastate
the earlier earthly goal.
We will become
like wolves among sheep,
in a weak herd upon their raw and inflamed soul.
Let us fight
the good fight,
and may the power of death,
remove
those who are reluctant to incite,
for the sake of the kingdom,
belonging
to the Lord of the fright,
mocks the priest
who preaches justice,
for he is the worst of the contrite.
The might of the unholy spirit
arises,
it will reproduce
in abundance.
this ungodly creature
who amazes,
with their eyes that glow in the dark,
searching
among networks and mazes,
who are rebellious and outcasts,
and will actually become wretches.
Angels of darkness
we have become,
to haunt
the weak and capture their spirits.
We are mysterious beings
living in whoredom*,
taking the form of the profane icons,
staring
into the jealous eyes of God
who became lonesome.
Satan
will strike violently
into the earth,
where in his new kingdom
everyone is welcome.
Behold the king
who is the wonder of wonders,
the master of the horn
the healer of the repelled souls,
enter the darkness
with your new chancellors,
unconsecrated
spirits from the heretical sites,
exploding
into a blazing fire of demonic colours.
The burning effigies
shalt strike into the heart of the pious,
and shall burn forever in all corners.
For that which is written we shall rejoice,
the strong winds will carry Satan’s voice,
I say out loudly
I have listened to the inadequate cries,
gazed deeply
into my devil's eyes.
The Lord of darkness is awakened from his eternal sleep,
and I can hear the father, the son and the ghost weep.
*Whoredom as :- Unlawful ****** relations
Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 1:13 PM UTC
Can I illustrate beauty
without the help of my eyes?
Will I be able to see the sunlight
the clouds floating above
the marvel of the skies?
Having tried it and succeeded
I was absorbed with fascination.
The blind described as unfortunates
yet now I can enjoy the mystery of touch
become suspended with satisfaction.
I can touch anything with my eyes folded
from animals and other objects.
yet the human bodies are far better
they’re so warm and so soft
can’t be compared with other subjects.
Feeling bodies so atmospheric and tense
especially the sensation of a woman’s skin.
The touch of women’s flesh befitted my addiction
their faces, hips, thighs and legs
fondling them like playing the violin.
Touching flesh became my fixation
spending most time contemplating the feeling.
Night and days eyes shut in darkness
caressing bodies in my over imaginative mind
satisfactory, but not so accommodating.
Pictures, portraits and views for the eye
soft sounds, loud sounds for the ear and the mind.
I have touched pots and pans, table and chairs
establishing for good the power of feeling
the forbidden touch prudently refined.
----------
I didn’t notice anything not around me
I felt my whole behaviour very strange.
I was crouched at the foot of her body
what happened next was totally unexpected
it seemed my body was about to interchange.
My body was becoming entangled with hers
it felt like my hands and hers were divine.
Every time I touched her face I felt it on mine
same with messaging her thighs, stroking her legs
so frightened it sent shivers down my spine.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 10:19 AM UTC
Luxuria (Lust)
Asmodeus demon of lust
carnal manipulator
****** captor
Castitas (Chastity)
Embracing virtue
honorable wholesomeness
not through one’s weakness
Gula (Gluttony)
The egocentricity
with which the Lord of the flies
upon us relies
Temperantia (Temperance)
practicing restraint
prudence to judge with regard
remaining on guard
Avaritia (Greed)
The Mammon demon
controlling the warmonger
with vows of power.
Caritas (Charity)
Crave unselfishness
give unreserved empathy
love and sympathy
Acedia (Sloth)
Deny grace and God
so evil shall become fact
when we fail to act
Industria (Diligence)
Fortitude is a must
persistence in conviction
zealous for passion
Ira (Wrath)
In its purest form
presents violence and hate
Satan’s fate
Patientia (Patience)
mercy to haters
receiving the grace to forgive
rewards are massive
Superbia (Pride)
Lucifer’s downfall
for excessive vanity
destroys humility
Humanitas (Kindness)
Sympathy without bias
belief without bitterness
inspire kindness
Invidia (Envy)
resentful passion
an insatiable desire
potent cause of dire
Humilitas (Humility)
think of yourself less
and not think less of yourself
don’t exalt oneself
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
Concerned,
my wellbeing doesn’t come into it
neither does my wife’s;
but worried I am,
for my children’s future,
my children children’s future
and for my great, great grandchildren too.
I listen with horror,
I watch and shudder,
I read and feel misery;
when the wind blows,
because time enough at last,( or is it?),
I gaze at the old man in the cave,
with a little peace and quiet,
will it be shelter skelter?
Are we in quarantine?
Chosen?
For a new place, alas, Babylon
with perhaps Dr Strange Love?
Maybe there is no soul
within the man,
unless the balanced man became unbalanced,
what reason has a man got,
(even if he’s people are suffering from punishment),
To justify such actions?
Perhaps Pak Pong-ju is not a man,
Could he be God’s apprentice
God’s messenger
God’s terminator,
to emulate ***** and Gomorrah or Pompeii?
Why should we shoot the messenger?
If this is the case
then truly I should be concerned,
my wellbeing doesn’t come into it
neither does my wife’s;
but worried I am,
for my children’s future,
my children children’s future
and for my great, great grandchildren too.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Where goes the time when it flies?
Simplified by expression, and stained by clarity.
Smudge by lucidity
smeared by simplicity
tainted by intelligibility.
Tempus fugit as in time flies.
Sharply distressing with painful feelings
to the point of mental instability
morning or night
we become possessed with its mystic dealings.
Where goes the time when it runs?
Not a solitary explanation is found.
It happens and it won’t stop
until life terminates as well
without cause.
Derived of rationalisation
lacking understanding
short of justification
bursting with vindication
persistently and with conviction.
Where goes the time when it sails?
From the second that we’re born.
Where were we existing?
We cannot be so sure
Cannot recollect the past
Not for the first five of our years
Memory so blur, so shadowy
Hazy with distortions
obscure and confusing
Unit our mind starts slowly to recollect.
Where goes the time when it escapes?
The chronology of life so mysterious.
Nothing can solve its ambiguity
for time is a complex case
with an infinity of secrets.
What’s the obsession when we have so many setbacks
drawbacks and obstacles
obstructions and conundrums
to take care of before time perishes away
and leaves us stranded in oblivion.
Oh time, you magnificent of all mysteries,
the high and mighty of ambiguities.
Show us mercy and explain
we are not detectives of secrecies
your spell with us reflects on the whodunits.
Oh time of things past and yet to come
give us a clue as to what is to derive!
“Remember”
it softly replies “Make most of your lives”
“Once I fly away no one can have a replay”.
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 6:11 AM UTC