#ouroboros
The scarlet thread unwinds
Our crystalline entanglement –
Once resplendently designed –
Now drips from your bloodied fingernails
As you drag them deeper,
Deeper down.
You tried to keep me with you –
Tried to have me stay –
Pleading, begging – Forcing
Your heart upon mine, just to say
"This is how True Love feels –
This is how True Love grows –
That is all I’ve ever known,
That is all I will ever know."
Meanwhile, the manifold of stars
We used to admire as one
Across incongruent climes
Become misaligned
And dangle sharply over our heads.
A sword is there, too,
Held above you
By a paltry thread.
I tried to warn you of it, once I knew –
Tried to pull you out of its way –
But you told me you had grown
Accustomed to its shadow
And its looming fulminations –
A culmination of all you ever knew
And all you ever grew to love.
That was years ago –
The stars have since shifted
The thread has feathered and frayed –
The sword has since fallen –
And You have fallen with it,
Into a place of deep, silent sorrow.
This place of sorrow –
I once knew it well,
For we once fell into it
Together –
Crashing through mirrors –
Cutting our fingers and tongues on the glass
As we passed –
And we found ourselves falling
Again – and again –
And again –
In circles –
Mar 29
Mar 29, 2026 at 9:52 AM UTC
When thoughts begin to dream,
they branch into an endless tree—
roots spreading through realities,
each shoot carving its path,
its own line.
Breathe.
Another fold,
another layer of truth
expands as we choose.
Up and down at once—
direction becomes perception.
Grows.
Thoughts of prey circle
in the shape of the serpent god—
Beginning is the end—
deception of decision.
Divine.
Sep 4, 2025
Sep 4, 2025 at 12:43 PM UTC
Ouroboros lived in a forest,
He could’ve been like anyone before us.
He lived his life filled with pride,
Masking plenty of issues on the inside.
Ouroboros always believed he was in the right,
Despite the many times he was on the wrong side,
He lived his life filled with pride.
A constant cycle,
In the shape of a circle.
He never learned from his mistakes,
He just brushed them off onto another day,
His friends and family wished he would change,
But he remained the same.
Ouroboros lived in a forest,
He convinced himself that it wasn’t due to his poor choices.
He could’ve been like anyone before us,
Poor Ouroboros.
A constant cycle of believing you're constantly in the right,
A never-ending circle consistently spinning because of pride.
Is it worth it to throw everything on the line,
Just because you can’t accept that your side,
Of the issue isn’t the only one on people’s minds?
Poor Ouroboros,
A somber chorus,
And the poor forest can’t ignore his cries.
All this strife due to pride.
Jul 13, 2025
Jul 13, 2025 at 2:46 PM UTC
Ouroboric concatenations of antinomian design,
circumvolute within circumspatial paradigms malign,
as obmutescent theogonic vestiges coalesce
in the eidetic zymurgy of aphasic largesse.
Metagnostic palimpsests, fracto-linear and obtuse,
catachrestically wane in hyperchromatic profuse,
whilst locutions, effulgent yet contrite,
obumbrate the paramorphic tautology of night.
A transcendental abecedarium, paralogical and vast,
consanguineous with the inexorable umbrage
of our shared Jungian past,
germinates within the syntagmatic—
Ever relaxed or ecstatic,
Coalesced to pragmatic,
Lugubriously emphatic.
For naught but vacuous profundities remain,
a simulacrum of the arcane mundane,
where in sesquipedalian grandeur lies
a syllogism clad in grandiloquent guise.
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 8:56 PM UTC
i get so lost in tomorrow
i keep forgetting
this is exactly what i wanted.
i become myself and become myself
til i blister -
it hurts but it's me.
i shed my skin, bite my tail,
and never learn.
i dig my nails under my face and
chase something i'll never earn.
Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 1:24 AM UTC
A wolf in the bushes. A deer in the clearing.
I know you are looking at me
because I too am the wolf.
You know I know, because you are me in my knowing.
We are so quiet in our hiding, and yet the deer raises its head.
You sprint to me now.
Here our ever-loving, this sacred tragedy.
O beloved Ever-Creature,
Will you chase me into Godliness, or into the end of It?
I will chase you more–
My precious enemy, again and again.
Divine Ouroboros.
How fragile the leg that snaps, how ****** the neck torn.
You slip and I catch you. I fight and we die together.
The antlers today, the doe eye tomorrow.
Forever this day, no matter the way.
We are the running, the forest, the hooves and fang.
The twig that catches my leg, the corner that traps us.
God is when I **** you.
It is your teeth in my flesh, the tear in the widened eye– my precious thing, and then we do it all again.
A wolf in the bush. A deer in the clearing. You make no sound, but I know where you are. I lift my head and see you. I know you. I know you. I have always known you.
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021 at 10:13 PM UTC
I asked her, why?
Why she couldn't hold my gaze
Despite the indescribable connection we feel for one another.
And she told me
That we were like two sides of the moon
Always longing, but never meant to even see each other.
And nothing good would come from the fight to understand
The fight to see one another.
The fight to stay alive as two halves of each other.
For we do not complete us
We love so deeply we swallow ourselves whole
Trying so desperately to have more of what we cannot have.
We are two polarities
And we cannot co-exist together
Not like this.
I bid her farewell
Leaving her only in my thoughts and in the sky
That I often see her in.
The moon never seemed so dark as it rushed to four quarters
Of what it used to be.
-Kore
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 2:37 PM UTC
The ouroboros of eight,
mouth full, speaks forever
of doors and portals cautiously opened
from times past when scared eyes
scoured woodlands for sacred evergreen
and feasted to last the dark,
through the missionary rewording of the same,
to now, the snaking trucks
of the cola company
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 1:32 AM UTC
(These are what never was and could not be.)
This is the world that never was.
(We sit at the edge of the world.)
If one door opens when another door closes then does one door close when another one opens?
(We are at the beginning so it’s after the end.)
Before thought.After thought. Same life.
(Nothing left to do but swallow each other and ourselves whole.)
Let yourself be cut to ribbons.
(Harm one, heal the other.)
We consume ourselves constantly.
(We are never satisfied nor disappointed.)
What is unseen is known to all.
(Are you far enough yet to return?)
We’ll eat ourselves alive if we keep on doing this.
(Good.I’m tired of all this, so let’s start again.)
We sit at the edge of the world.
(This is the world that never was.)
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 1:51 PM UTC
Nothing matters.
Therefore, everything matters.
The world is devoid of meaning,
except for the meaning we give it.
Whatever we do, whatever transpires,
all is an act of
*holiness.
We are creators, we are the ones who create.
We are He, we are She, we are all, we are none.
All is change.
Permanence is found in impermanence.
There is no death.
Only a change in form.
I sit and ride the wave.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 9:14 AM UTC
I’ve been down to this place before
Devouring my flesh like a self-cannibal
Another lap around this body
Swallowing the serpent’s tail.
It hisses just behind me,
Covering every track, I make.
When my inner eye turns to see its trail,
It will be consumed by the snake.
Is my preacher a liar?
Is it in my nature?
Am I no different than the animal?
Are my thoughts even mine at all?
I am not alone in this body,
There’s a stranger here with me.
Making every choice for me,
Dug out of my ancestry.
Muscles expand and contract,
Pulling me further in.
I feel myself dissolving,
The past is the future again.
My own ouroboros.
**** the lights,
Take my eyes.
I don’t want to see,
The serpent that’s swallowing me.
It feels like I’ve done this all before.
Swallowing my tail.
**** death before it is born again.
Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC
Tell me, my moondark one, how come that
our journey remained untraveled;
from mirror to mirror into eternity
our passages were left uncrossed?
For the mirage of shedding a light,
we rather chose to immerse into the outer world
than become one with each other's.
Since when were we this hollow
turning into shallow ones,
who are unfaithful to their dreams?
Tell me, that how come
that the snake is already bitting his own tail
for the circle is full now,
and I still wish to tell our never-ending story?
Oct 20, 2019
Oct 20, 2019 at 4:36 PM UTC
dont follow the green
dont follow the snake
it'll eat you too
on its way back
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 10:50 AM UTC
torn free from the ground of
pregnant ideas and withered
internal dialogues.
aloof in the face of destiny, crying
for refuge among the disowned,
the dismembered, the disinterested. i
alone exist in the maelstrom of abstraction
crafted painstakingly through my ages
and seasons.
a mind as sharp as mine
to raise me without feathers
and place me
among the mulch.
i blanket my canvas with
woes and worries alike, neglecting
the foul-mouthed begotten son
arranged among the pillars left standing.
crooked trees and iced stone to
vibrate
through these ears of clay.
i miss the days of youthful
ignorance and exuberant hope shot at my
future like a cannon of pride
and confidence.
today the final summer flowers exhale
notes of sweet becoming, ever mingling
with the hum of nature's eternal embrace.
the bodies celestial in ambiguity spin and
swirl in irrevocable sincerity. from rise to
fall, through night and naught, the world
recurs again to weave itself anew.
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 4:20 PM UTC
I want to sit at the edge of the world
with my legs hanging
and wonder how my life could have been
If I have lived that other life so far away from here
It might just probably be the same cycle unfolding,
The same old dusty vices, same me eating my own tail
And I pretend that is my consolation
to think everything could have been the same.
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 4:22 PM UTC
Nas palavras da mulher que viveu em 1910
Os "anos 80" eram 1880
E suas reclamações da nova Rússia eram tão atuais quanto as nossas
Em meio a semi ditadura e intolerância política e religiosa
Eu, que quase achei que estávamos progredindo e crescendo
Esqueci que esse é o maior defeito dos seres humanos, o esquecimento
Esquecer que isso tudo já aconteceu
E vai acontecer de novo e de novo
Mesmo eu, assim, maldizendo.
Talvez uma ou outra coisa melhore
Como disse um conhecido certa vez
Mesmo que o mundo se afogue
No consumismo, e exploda de vez
Em puro esquecimento
Afinal, você não pensa?
Sim, sobre isso mesmo
Sobre o sentido de tudo isso
Em meio a minha juventude nunca entendi a complexidade desse pensamento
Hoje, perdida entre sentimentos, compreendo
Não é sobre o sentido da vida
Mas sim de tudo do mundo
Afinal o ser humano gosta de se ver como uma dádiva, uma criação
Mas não pára para pensar na simples ocasião
De ser fruto de um erro de equação
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 7:06 PM UTC
cardboard crowns (awash with)
liquid laughter (cascading)
all around (litany)
empty eyes (searching)
borrowed bliss (enlightenment)
stale sorrow (breaks me)
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 1:08 PM UTC
Partition my bones,
break my soul.
Constricting every breath
as you run;
tail in mouth,
soaked in venom.
This,
our beautiful nightmare,
an infinite cycle.
Are you far enough yet to return?
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 2:28 PM UTC
Helpless from the caress of your fingertips
Painting tender words, echoing in my lips
Inhaling your scent as my breath grew thin
Dying slowly from the friction smoldering my skin
Consuming my being you numb the pain
Together we’re bind and do again
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
Before thought. After thought.
Tides roll on. Nails dug deep. Toes curl. It's the end of the end.
Cities fall. Footsteps retraced. Tides roll in.
Before thought. After thought.
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 4:56 AM UTC
Ouroboros
Writhing about in man’s mythologies
Is a completeness, itself to affirm
Scriven in the ancient cosmologies:
The self-ordained perfection of The Worm
The Samsara of the self-seeking soul
And a self-admiring self-causation
Itself entire, a universal whole
Devouring its tail in auto-phagation
But metamorphoses have come to pass:
The endless worm’s head is now up its own (self)
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 3:30 PM UTC
Feel the burn of desire scorch your insides
Feel the warmth from the spilling of seed
My darkness is deep within you
Setting out on this campaign of lust,
Our bodies tangle, indulging in the pleasure of the flesh
Eat me up, swallow me whole,
As I fill myself with you
We are ouroboros
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 10:42 PM UTC