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Tyler King Mar 2015
Bohemia
When will you be angelic?
When will you empty your graveyards and let your cities fill with the music of the ******?
When will you sing for me, for you, for us?
For your children looking for God in the halo of a street lit drug deal gone bad?
For your forlorn lovers shooting up with sub-par sadness off the street?
For your crying, bleeding masses that scrape their knees ****** at rock bottom?

Bohemia
I'm addressing you, directly
Devourer of culture, ******* of pretense
Let they among you without sin be the first to burn
Hold you nothing sacred?
Have you not the decency to scatter your ashes somewhere clean?
Somewhere beautiful?
Somewhere perfect?

Bohemia
When will you learn?
Is there no context to your suffering?
Is there no reason for your guilt?
Is there no honor among street rats?
Where are you going with this, anyway?

Bohemia
I am not your prophet
Not your God or your king
I am your vessel
Speak your will through me

Bohemia
I need to feel it
I need to see it
I need to HEAR IT
For the mind destroyed by madness
For the heart shattered by shame
For the spirit, for the blessed ******* spirit
I need to HEAR IT

Bohemia,
Let me hear you
If you are outcast drawing the curtains on your insecurity
Let me hear you
If you are restless heart itching for the next sunset
Let me hear you
If you are just barely scraping by
If you are waiting for God to explain himself
If you are sick of sacrificing your mind to television screens
If you are just trying to make it in America without selling your soul
If you are broken, beaten, or damaged irreparably
Let me hear you
Let them hear you in the streets
Let them hear you in the grave

Bohemia
You are angelic enough
For me
Tyler King Mar 2015
You are in the waking light that hits the pale skin in just the right way, seraphic
And the hazy nostalgic appreciation for the way it can slice the room
The first cigarette of the new day to take the grating edge off
And every cigarette after

You are in the sigh released just after sleep and just before dreams
Pure and total catharsis
Something just more than coincidence, and just shy of fate
The York Peppermint Patty after some grand victory

And I watched you fall in love with the music you've known since childhood
Mystified as if it was the first time
Breathe with the room, the world and everything in it
And sing, from coda to coda in the cadence of your own vision of angels

I watched you laugh through the narrow streets just before the dawn,
On another spectacular adventure
With the knowledge bright and vivid
That your thrill of life was still alive

And blessed or cursed as we may be
We don't have to talk about it
Because the lights are on for both of us,
And we truly just know
So if this curse is my cross to bear
I'm lucky to have you
And if you need me, I'll be on the outskirts of the world
Waiting to throw popcorn at the stupid ******* players
In their stupid ******* game
That you and I
Just get
Here goes nothing, Kid Icarus
Tyler King Mar 2015
Fluorescent messiah born in a haze of marijuana smoke,
Baptized in stale beer basins to be sacrificed to the hallucinogenic sunset
Half blinded by the stars like iridescent angels swimming in the reflecting pools at the edge of periphery
And of their blood and body the people lined up for miles to make offerings,
To pay tribute at the feet of the once and future king of the wasteland
One by one by one the wisemen wept and the shepherds sang blind hymns to the flock
And the Sphinx was the only one brave enough to ask the question,
If the form is blessed and the essence black, should the Son be blamed for what the Father lacked?
Swept up in a tidal wave of holy disgrace and blissful in deranged glory
Hallelujah, he is Risen!
Like the flag hoisted above embattled Eden
Kicked in like a broken door by savages on the prowl for petty victory worthy to hang above their mantle
But indomitable still, even crucified, martyred on a cross of felonies
And on the day of Last Judgement, when the Second Coming is at hand
Will Paradise echo the elation of the believers?
Will the kingdom of the Most High relive it's former glory?
Will the wasteland know peace again?
Maybe, brother
Maybe Eden is for the birds, and Paradise is better off burning
But the faith, and the love, are not so easily destroyed
For the end of an era
Tyler King Feb 2015
The Western World split open and out from the acid washed sky spewed forth calamity, bright and feverish
And from the ever dimming divide emerged a crow, with a face like Christ and Charon's crackling throat
And he spoke sweet apocalypse, like caustic vinegar dripping down my body, burning holes in my hollow chest
"Come join the ******, wayward brother on the razor's edge of ruin!
Come drink from the lip of the sunrise and watch the nuclear bombs rain down!
Come burn down the courthouse where they put your youth on trial and sentenced your weary heart to hang!
Come exorcise your evils on the altar of our blood and conquest, my love, my seraphic saint, and be reborn in the water of the sinners womb
Drink down poison and spit up fire into the lap of every **** and paramour and prosthetic companion you've ever had
And let them wonder how you escaped from prison,
Exhume the bones of the demons you aborted and hoist them victorious over your head,
Because you ******* earned it"

And I listened, I took to heart
And so here I am, alive
Here I am 19 seasons in the abyss later and bursting with electric heat
And in case you haven't heard,
I'm ******* vicious now, honey

And I won't mince words here so here we go:
On the first day you were conceived in a flash of cosmic brilliance, unveiled to the ****** Earth like the masterwork of a sculptor
On the second day you calmed the raging sea and brought the mountains to their knees
On the third day you blew a fiery kiss to the circling specters of your fallen heroes
On the fourth day you signed an autograph with your sugar tongue in the small of Satan's back
On the fifth day, you took a ******* nap, ****'s exhausting, no one blames you
ON THE SIXTH DAY, on the sixth day you raised a rallying cry to the four winds, for the artists sculpting chaos from the car crash wreckage, for the anarchists burning bridges to nowhere from nothing, for the young streetwalking heartbreakers, the desperate twitching addicts, the ******* and the dying black boys all unvindicated, to JOIN THE ******, to pull the trigger and let the world go supernova, to shatter your nervous breakdown heart and scatter a thousand pieces of yourself to a thousand different heavens because you are a being too ******* brilliant to be contained, don't even try it
ON THE SEVENTH DAY , on the seventh day, you held it all in your holy hands and became something new entirely
On the seventh day you became the most powerful version of yourself
On the seventh day you put every dead star still burning out in the palm of your hand
On the seventh day you laid your weapons to rest and for the first time, the first time you knew what peace sounds like in the early morning, drifting in with your first smoke of the day
And I'm not a betting man, by any means
But in an arm wrestling match between you and God
My money is on you, every time
This is kinda my first attempt at spoken word so y'know
Tyler King Feb 2015
I felt you, Hemingway
Ghost lit in pale blood electric lights
On the downslope of the Holy Spirit's introspective nightmare
Cacophony in the bathroom stall, savages at war in the gutter
Kings in their drug fueled conquest of modern man's spatial reasoning
Angry cyclops guards the gate to the Fourth ***** Garden of Eden
The learned alcoholic in wino wonderland bursting at the seams for a halogen fix
Cultist camoflaged in black leather combat boots spiked iron altercation
Public domain genocide for the demure nihlist lower class
Never give those ******* the satisfaction
I felt you in Rapture, like lilac swastikas dripping melted candle wax down my frail spine
Blunt force trauma tinged lunacy for the jet engine martyrs, screaming at the empty spaces
For the imposters stigmatized by yellow journalist hype men
And the psychos just along for the ride
Be shameless in your insanity,
Be reckless in your love
Live forever to spite the mad god that molded your angry heart
And **** the sun with your empathy
Tyler King Jan 2015
Travelling higher than God through my former wasteland
Skyline was littered with star spangled pariahs
and the Earth swallowed the bones of the believers
And for the street youth, burning rage into their skin and choking the ashes down for supper they left no shelter
These are the spirits that sing your soulless chorus
These are the ghosts that bear your unborn demons in utero
These are the convicts that kneel humbled outside your door, crossing themselves in fervor every time you walk past
These are the junkies that sketch your morbid admiration in dull sidewalk chalk
These are the con men that pace restless across your bitter heart
And these are the children you lead to ruin, baptized by filth and fury

Wasteland, I gave you my youth
The screams of the lovers I buried with you haunt me still
Though the cathedral of the ghosts I made has long since emptied
My brothers, my sisters, my dearly departed psychoses
For you all I will return, a martyred liar,
Crucify me atop the graveyard of my artwork
And paint shades of vivid gray with my ashes
Wasteland, I've given you all and now I'm nothing
Tyler King Jan 2015
they sighed
The 5 o'clock mass of late winter apathy
Borne ceaseless to and from and back again
To Salt Lakes to frozen sky to unfeeling supermarket self checkout lane
To the dawn that brought life and the dusk that killed again
From sea to shining sea to burning bush
and a grand halo for all the art majors,
scathing editorial for the industry people
On the freeway passed out stone black sinners under veil of Southern sky
And narcotics agents circling up and down the block
Cancer dependent martyrs all,
The Saint, the Wolf, and his ****** Lover
Trash can fires turn to frozen hellscape
To Babylon out West past the Rockies and North of the Gulf
Mother of ghosts slaving away at an impotent family supper
And she let a single tear fall and whispered,
"This one will bring me luck,
It may not be much now, but just wait
There's gonna be a ******* riot when the Wolf comes home"
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