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Harry J Baxter Mar 2014
With great power comes the shirking of great responsibilities
I am the super zero
so **** justice and right and wrong
the track is stuck on a loop
and it sounds like insanity feels on fingertips
in our hedonistic heathenism we tore the palace walls down
only to make room for something far more beautiful
she taught me that
behind closed eyelids we all look the same
and the floor rising up to meet us
feels more like flying than a crippling fall
our time here is flying out the window by the second
like paper debris in a car going sixty with the windows down in the summer
my source of most frustration stemming from my own warped principles
let them all go
because we’ve all got life left to live and as nice as dreams are
the concrete of the pavement outside is always real
always there
consistently mundane
so make an adventure out of macaroni paintings
and smash all of the clocks and wristwatches
let’s act as stupid as we did in middle school
lets burn our caution at the stake
and say ***** to your paranoid thoughts
the paint has to dry before it can chip away
charity the most prototypical example of how self-serving
and alms aren’t always mutually exclusive
so keep on driving outraged fist into the metaphoric faces of all of your excuses
and keep on burning at your own fiery temperature
you owe us to try and shape this world into a painting of pure beauty
and **** all of the other irrelevances
she taught me that
Ben Holders Apr 2013
With ever sign espousing the dangers of heathenism,
This cigarette tastes all the sweeter.
I’ll gladly trade another year of life
For a calm head
And a deeper laugh
Jonathan  Oct 2020
We Dig
Jonathan Oct 2020
Is it blood or birth?
Too dark to tell.
Is it heathenism or hope?
Too dark to tell.
Is it faith or freedom?
Too dark to tell.

The night is now
Too dark to tell.
In the trenches, we dig
Our graves of friendship.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2019
Orléans, the maid Jean (Żąn of Arc)...

i have made peace with the paganism revival
in the medium realm of music,
i once entertained the idea...
but upon watching Floki crawl into the heart
of the mountain
  (vikings t.v. series)...
and seeing a cross at its base,
                   rather than a hammer of a dwarven
master smithy...
  breaking down and crying...
          and then recounting his ambitions?
for a people to adopt an approach of a people
to do not consider revenge?
          him screaming, from the mountain's heart,
which resulted in a volvanic eruption...
what god was he seeking,
to begin with?
             i moved from pop, rock, alt., punk
etc. into pagan revival music,
but i also transitioned from pagan revival
music into the realm of the templar chants,
byzantine chants, the gregorian...
and it was so soothing,
         my faith, my heart lies with the music
that appeases me, my angers and my doubts...
it's not the most spectacular of examples,
but its the only honesty i can ever give,
i cry at beauty...
   when i spent the whole night
watching the indian sea pillage and ****
  the kenyan coast...
when i first heard ola gjeilo's ubi caritas,
when i first heard
vaughan william's fantasia on a theme
by thomas tallis...
            it is so hard to cry when presented
with beauty...

     i side with the christian chants...
akin to the gregorian: libera me domine...

  after all... the post-roman scripts are
not pretty, esp. the english language
pretending to know the existence of orthography...
which it doesn't: given it has no diacritical
marker applicability...
             hardly a diacritical marking system
if...   ȷust so, as ι saιd... and also... they disappear
upon the CAPITAL STATED...
  JUST LIKE, SO...

               but at least the post-roman
latιn remaιns allow, more for a language to be
sung... than could ever be saιd...
hardly to claιm... ι, I, L, l...
   (after all... what of the asiatic people?
they have a complex phonetic encoding
system,
   last time i checked...
      they drew beautifully...
     but when it came to singing?
                  i find crows to croack
more beautifully than their peoples singing;
i guess you really need a castrato harem
of choir boys to reach the sort of pop
established by 20th century artists...
     how almost wonderful...
             castratos ascribed the governance
of song, rather than disgruntled harem ******)...
                
now... please excuse me, whιle ι translate
the lyrιcs of lιbera me domιne
   (in pig latin)...

     libera me domine
                      de mortem aeterna
           in die illa tremenda
     caeli movendi sunt et terra
        dum veneris
                   judicare saeculum per ignem
     tremens factus sum ego et timeo
        dum discussio venerit
      atque ventura ira
                 quando caeli vendi sunt et terra
dies illes dies irae
    calamatis et miseriae
         dies magna et amara valde
dum veneris
                 judicare saeculum per ignem
    requiem aeternam dona eis domine
  et lux per petua luceat eis
  liber me domine
                  de morte aeterna...
in die illa tremenda...

    free me lord
              from death's eternity
into your godliness that's awe inspiring
  (as also terrible)
heaven moves both sun and earth
while love judges heathenism
    by fire
    rest from the eternal gifts as
does the lord...
   and the light from its "petulance"
to continue to shine...

   will gregorian chants be censored?
templar chants? byzantine chants?
                   i tired of pop songs,
of 20th century "innovations"...

    petua...
                 in english... the word implies:
advice...
ah!
     et lux per petua luceat eis
   and from seeking advice from the light
that shines!
so much for: petulance...

what a contradictory song...
               still...
                                what's next,
they ban gregorian chants,
   and fall flat praising and clapping
the next adhan?!

— The End —