who re-marrowed this hollow tree ?
thought themselves of mythology ?
processed death into the dying **** ?
blunt   blackened hope
           buttering up what god ?
                                   what mischief maker ?
: Loki the crow with his promethean nose ?

covering his crooked actions
                          the defiling of a life
  murderer
  a coward of failed coupling
congress    a night down the pub
    the gender polar pair collided
            sottish upon their union
genitals bragging through urgent gaps in clothing
but that urgency deflated
it muttered away
he felt baited
and
  humiliated    
             he committed to ******

crude amateur throttling
  a ***** sogged brick  
an indiscreet botch up
    and a stolen wheelbarrow  
        to ferry her away

'The Mourning Tree'
           despondently sifts for nourishment
its gummy combs of branches
  sashing particles  from the night solution
the tree ; a cavity
too verrucose and fleshy to whittle the winds
                                               or fife a tune
a rubbery craggle     foreign against the landscape
should   rather   make out its' habits
                  off the floor of a deep sea trench

roughing in the corpse
head first   down the gullet thirstily
skirts up and claustro
between spread limbs
to ***** puckle in the hollow tree
evicting the bird of Minerva
      ‘whoing’ into the charged sky
  blooded over
             the night blackens further
               brooding on the event

who re-marrowed this hollow tree ?
married themselves to a mythology ?
force fed life   engorged within deathly seed ?
upended crime     in lieu of a sacrifice
           he offered a glass of woman
               to oder the night
he strummed teasing fingers
      raked them humming
         through the heady resistance of the air
electric creeping warmth   over the skin
                        erecting the hairs
   museum silence
   an arena    as fraught equal    between magnets
       clouds cut the moon
      moon cut the eye
    sinful kiting to mend a link
ramblings kinked
he makes sparking incantations to the gods

one scatting madman
one corpse woman


that same bled night
where the furrowed fields
            meets natures disarray
children approach this woodland border             
children with empty baked bean tins
      that they joined with lengths of string
trying to reach out their ears
    extend their timid range
       to sprites, nymphs, pucks or faeries
an older kid strikes up a cigarette
one of the younger ones squats to ***
         and be mocked

one brave girl of ten years
  runs a tin and the line into the woods  
it jerks taunt after about thirty paces
she wedges it in a tree fork and runs back
the children crowd the receiver tin
spooking themselves
eavesdropping   
        upon the hollow wisdom of small gods
            that mask their shame in the dark

The mage with her sage
was cleaning her cage
imagining tragedy's
angels engage

She erected a sigil
protecting her vigil
a palindrome had in Rome
angst to assuage

As she brought out her cards
she thought of the bards
had her spirit inherited
some of their ways?

When she put them away
she had nothing to say
and the guides of her writing
were silent for days

The mage with her sage
was cleaning her cage
imagining tragedy's
angels engage

She erected a sigil
protecting her vigil
a palindrome had in Rome
angst to assuage

As she brought out her cards
she thought of the bards
had her spirit inherited
some of their ways?

When she put them away
she had cart loads to say
and the guides of her writing
stayed by her for days!

Blackest nights and hearts of hearts
As the feeling hits my bones
Vast illusions take their hold
Welcome evil to its throne

Embrace the stars that guide my fate they've often burned when I arrive too late
It seems I'm running in a vector leading myself back to what I hate
I picked the crown from all the roses, chose to drown yet dreamt of floating, spending precious time just hoping, loves a drug so now I'm doping, heart so broken no use coping, all this ink black blood is flowing, spilling from my tongue it stains the ground pollutes the mud

Wasted words, from wasted tongues I think I've fallen out of love and now this freedom cuts me open just to rip out all these pieces, voices, words, and thesis I've been Clinging to this life, God should just hand me the knife, I'll carve myself a new beginning.

Stab myself with a thousand needles to drive it home once more that there is no growth without pain and from me all the hues of red and black come pouring out in a catharsis of the self inflicted damage I've pursued in the twisted notion that accepting this pain will leave me with nothing left to lose and everything left to gain but as it turns out the gods were never so cruel and never so kind as to let me weather the entire storm to prove to myself that I was truly alive.

No.

No.

Take me, break me, shatter my illusions, drive my mind into confusion, take from me everything I hold true and run it through the strainer that's
you, God of wisdom take my hand and drag me through the burning sands, and take from me right as I bleed through every wound you set me free, crush my faith, tear out my eyes, if I don't make it death is fine, gifted wisdom from divine, is worth this anguished mortal life, show me death and show me light, show me plenty show me strife, cast upon I beg of thee, make me listen make me free.

I've opened one too many doors inside this labyrinth of my mind
I've seen the birth and death of light in endless dark I will reside
I see the truth as sharpened knives to bleed the eyes from shameless pigs
I see the coffins filled to brims and all the graves we have to dig

I watched the heavens turn to ash and gazed upon the empty throne and as the burning angels fell I realized I felt at home a fitting end to holy tomes a burning city kin to Rome and as through concrete flowers grow the seeds of chaos will be sown

The sea it turns from red to black the sky applauds its thunders clap from whence we came we shall go back into our saviors endless trap

Pursuit of peace no shame be known as wisely told by three blind crones and all the secrets we'd be shown to break the cage we've much outgrown

And now upon the lofty sands we stand together hand in hand and to sing of battles long and gory remembering  our hard fought glory

The venom seeps, the fangs that shred, the warm embrace of those thought dead, the sons of evil took their toll, the sun is dark, the jester folds

And when the end has had its run we flee to halls and fill with *** and give the praise to those we've lost to see this day but at what cost
For now they leave but never gone the tale of Gods will still live on they said our God's have met their end but see they lied they rise again