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the women of the past keep
there was another yesterday
arrived from out of
she wanted to see
I told her

I don't want to see
I won't see them.
it would be
gruesome and

I know some people who can
watch the same movie
more than

not me.
once I know the
once I know the
whether it's happy or
unhappy or
just plain

for me
that movie is
and that's why
I refuse
to let
any of my
old movies play
over and over again
James 7d
The decline of western civilization is in full effect
it feels like I’m dancing through a dream
Time killed in its tracks
shot twice in the heart
I’m stuck doing life in my bedroom
the walls are deeply perverse
they toy with me
one day they smile brightly
the next they scorn me
looking at me with furtive eyes
plotting to **** me  
or wist me away on a cloud of dust
sometimes the room cries out in pain with me
our screams and tears float to the ceiling
and linger there like apparitions
who died ****** and gutted
screaming out for justice
a hideous parody of life
victim of banality’s steady bow
arabesque hallucinations
my left hand snakes the devil
paranoias familiar grip
vultures circle over head
James Jul 26
hunger pains, the whiskey full
emptiness begot my cold dead soul
wrote and wrote and found no peace
nor my solace amongst sallow trees
but found reprieve in sweet absurdity
god is dead, and demons reign
magnificent parades of the insane
sorrows smoke drifts away into ashen skies
‘‘twas God my love, ripped out your eyes
James Jul 22
Water sits placid
Moon reflects a bright white glow
luminous beauty
James Jul 22
Life, death and rebirth
The eternal cosmic dance
Day will turn to night
James Jul 22
Honor thy self

Fate shall evaporate like the morning dew

Do what thou wilt

watch a useless world devoured by dreams

We are stars burning brightly

Madly creating reality
We are Athena and Apollo in the flesh

Eris and Eros dance through our eyes  

as the universe expands within us

we slice our raging wings of desire

with nerves of steel sharpened pure
James Jul 22
vile proposals flow out of slitted eyes
ultimate jihad under exploited skies
Wretched earth, Christ’s severed head
wind carved bodies of the holy dead

dragged behind in spiritual shambles
whilst sacred fires rage in the bramble
Of the hidden precincts of the soul
which expand into an endless whole

the moon shines bright in timeless disorder  
Chaos availed of its quiet horror
The saint inspires less than the rebel
to the poet who fears not the devil
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