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 Jul 2018 Ophélie S
nihiliti
god's plucking petals from the sun again
and his sister's spinning something new;
beads and burs into silver strings
as only gods may do

the Great Aunt sings sordid smells
like scents spilled from the jewels
of little men of the stone tools
no magic for mortal fools, no

the Wizened Father flirts with Death
just to scorn his mother, the Lover
and she in turn ***** his skin off
just to feel it burn going down

the Kettle Kids quip about adult ****
that ought be kept out of the room
such nonsense makes goodly gods grim
and sentences us all to doom

rebellion!--cast down idols in scorn
lashes! many and long as millennia
spent idle in heaven's tomb
break the womb of spirit stew
that cesspool what begot these fools
burning stakes into hearts awake
with the fire of bothersome issues
destroyers and usurpers, curse them!
cut them down two sizes smeared
cream their corpses into copses
of deep and dark and buried fears
forget, forget, good children
about whatever you may hear
coming from the brimstone basement
we locked up just for you, dear

we teach our children unknowable fear
A dark star over a dark sea.
 Jul 2018 Ophélie S
Jeff S
cut quick—! quick!
unshackle, ship off, shuffle—
and if the Cuss crack some ten becrossed
what heaven have you?
cut—! amen, wha'cutting counts
the abacuses
of a

quake and halo'd curt
accountant named
in kneeling cerulean crib—
The Caucasus, the
Caliphate, the Croesus—

(you quack!—cut!—)

—ah, Christ.
!
 Jul 2018 Ophélie S
Morgan Gail
we've taken our salvation into our own hands
it's no wonder we've turned to worshipping alcohol and ***
you see, the Godless are never truly godless
we just become our own gods
wrap every beautiful thing around your wrists
draping like precious stones
until it becomes unholy
we bruise any purity with our splintered hands
raising our empty buildings
cathedrals where we all stand
we pledge our allegiance
to "self"
and to flags
adopting false idols
raising them to be like us
until they start looking just like us
well, a god just like me would be a fearsome being
that god would have killed everybody
including itself
inheriting my self-destructive tendencies
i've built myself up so much
in my attempt to feel worthy
it's a wonder my spine doesn't snap
from all the weight
an altar with one too many golden statues adorned
wasn't i supposed to be past everything
wasn't i supposed to be reborn
i guess we're never so far from our mortality
that we can truly be safe without our boundaries
 Jul 2018 Ophélie S
Aa Harvey
Kiss The Light


Broken heart’s litter loveless streets;
The disheveled people are the only people left to meet.
The happy people were taken away,
By adultery, lies and hate.


Save the day; don’t burn a hole in your conscience.
**** to death all plans you had of suicidal fantasies.
Decorate your first new house, with the love of your wife.
Sell your art, to pay for food, to feed the kids,
Before you kiss her goodbye.


Dance on ice and break your back.
Sell your tanks to the Salvation Army.
Jesus saves, but only on Sundays;
So bring us back redemption and a whole new saviour.


Kiss the light and ask it why,
It shimmers so, on her skin.
See the light that shines so bright,
Whenever I read Within.


My Wife I hope she will become;
For transparent to my eyes, she is now.
Unable to grasp her hand; what have I done?
My love is with her always, but she is gone away with the clouds.


My sunshine, my bright light, my guiding star,
Has disappeared and left me alone in the world and her heart has been taken so far.
I’m in love with you my dark light nightmare.
Oh my God!  How I only wish I could have you near.


Once more with me, in sin on Saturday.
I hope to God; I truly pray,
For her to simply allow me to say:
I love you always.  Keep my heart until the grave.


Something random springs to life,
In a box below, in search of something right.
It has been given the green light!
So all systems go!  Forward into paradise!



(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
We’ve had forever to get it right
  this religion we hold dear

But why the ****** and ‘holy wars’
  that underwrite our fear

We stand in judgment and wield belief
  with weapons poorly thrown

Our eyes rejecting while spirit’s cry
  —our futures poorly sown

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)
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