"baphomet" poems
Spoke to a Baphomet
Down by the willow
He was watching the moon bathe in that same river
That dissolved everything in its way
He whispered:' This is your version of Aegri somnia'
I tell him that this is not a bad dream and that
I really am shattered in thousands of pieces
And that
I came to lay my burden down
So, he offers a rope and I suddenly see a brighter season
He plays me ***** one for the shepherd none for the sheep
I asked for my own Beatrice back
she burns in a pit
9th circle - still have her knife in my back
And only then he tells me the rules-the waiting game begins only when the lights go out
But
I
Can't
See
In
The
Dark
Game over.
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC
Roaming in the dark
seeking life to take apart
Once a creature with a higher purpose
But after your missteps you began to hurt us
Destruction is what you live for
You want us to suffer because of our nature
"Baphomet I know it's hard, you don't know regret."
Try to be logical avoid your hateful thread.
Helping you is like a deathwish;
we know the dangers but we still accept it.
There he stands the creature of deception
In the eye of the beholder, he makes no exception..
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 6:55 AM UTC
The world's greased, watch your step or you might slip and fall off of it,
Serpent in the garden where you're walking, show cautiousness
And nothing really grows there in the shadow of the Pyramid,
Of our plutonomy,
But honestly,
from the top the image probably isn't that vivid
That we're rats in the labyrinth scolded for eating cheese,
That we're lepers on our island rebuked for our disease
Once a pigeon ascends with doves, all in the name of peace,
The thin air is too comfortable, to return him to the streets
Hypnotized by a box framed with Rose-Colored glass
While The Owl burns bright and The Baphomet laughs
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
6% alcohol content
In the bathroom binge drinking
Again Beer,
Cigarettes have always been a vice and
Bourbon Blitzkrieg!
My friend once ****** on a statue
of The ****** Mary but
Blood is not suitable for children cause
Macaulay Culkin scares the living ****
outta me and I
Desperately want another kiss
from that baphomet I met in Brooklyn
SHADABOOM!
“English ************ do you speak it?!”
Marsellus’s soul was in that briefcase but
He don’t look like a ***** praying to
birthday cake, Praise the Lard!
Whiskey tastes sweeter with honey and
another night down, another **** in my mouth
In case of flame(er), beat him.
Off with the good book because
GodisdeadandsoamI
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 5:41 AM UTC
This day your either caught up in Baal, Baphomet or Bethel.
Since I was a kid they was trying to trip me in a fairytale..
Dragons are Good and alittle magic won't ****
So far from the truth but some say who's gunna make these scars go away... Well tell me where did the scars come from?
Cause we know evil is bad and good is the truth!
If your caught in a lie dosent that mean that God told you?
Certainly not!
It came from baphomets mouth, so why are listening to liars mouth?
Dragons are real and so are unicorns
But dragons destroy and it takes a sword and one man to overcome him..
Maybe it's me?
Maybe it's you?
I just wanted to show you Baal is what we create for fantasies and selfish ways.
Baphomet is the Devil who lies right in your face.
Bethel is a holy place that keeps truth as it's king and good as it's God.
Wake up!!! For one day we will be on one side or the other...
It's hard to tell the truth and love someone who dosent know Good, but it's easy to fall and give up for a lie and at the end never notice that lies were getting life from you.
Forgive me.
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
this is a poem about happiness.
this is also a poem about how great life is, see? here's a metaphor
comparing nature to the faultless
form of a pedastalized lover,
here's a description of the
effect of changes in air pressure
and localized temperature
fluctuations
on physical matter in a given area.
here's a bland truism that
anybody can relate to.
here's a couple rhyming stanzas
about the ethereal shifting of
connecting threads which
cause all life to dance upon
the cosmic stage like food poisoned marionettes.
here's an ode to the wrinkles of
my ******** and
the bits of fuzz that occasionally
find their home in my *****
here's a sonette to the drop outs
doing better than me
here's a dirge for the businessman
that hangs himself
and a jubilee for his widow
who earns nothing off his death
because he left his entire estate
to his catamite.
I'm writing a symphony in color,
notes of fermenting wood
dogshit and coffin dust.
the violas swoop and drone
the piccolos trill fast enough
to excise your gastrointestinal system
the barotone sax wheezes
and the timpani drum rumbles
(the flutes sit motionless because
**** flutes)
the pianists fingers are bleeding
hes banging with stumps now
his face contorted in ecstatic glee
as if the face of god has parted
the clouds just to scrape his gums
clean with his dietous ****
and lo faint is the whisper
which climbs and slithers
between the
false,
bash upon life with both hands.
here is life here is death
let me show your life
let me breathe your wretching
like squandered
like roots in the soil,
paint your everlasting cave drawing
in the face of your kitchen
and dance around a fire
let the embers lick your heels
til pagan viciousness overtakes
your quivering form.
gasp it in
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
when i heard about it,
when i heard of “free art:”
i thought of free bread and wine,
and celtic sirens,
i laughed though... you made the earth
so ******* boring we all wanted to become astronauts.
when art became free we tried to moralise
drinking wine (as a portent of richness)
and eating bread (as a portent of the russian revulsion),
i bought my art.. and waited for the ones who
discouraged it complaining buying their bread “well fed.”
the celtic sirens hung on though, singing softer and softer
but more prone to the acid tongues dragging the democrats into
a hope of kings and village kindred elders,
but i still didn’t hope for free artistry that was akin to circus,
caged the gypsy have i?
i have, but i did not warrant free food or free aquas of variation,
i simplified freeing the demands with the demands freed into excess,
well... if i were kingly i’d still have provided free bread and wine
rather than music and the curbing the excesses of lyricists;
making music free just discouraged all originality, all creativity,
it just became a realism of a struggled acting -
i feel cheated having missed the antics of britannia in
the 1960's and '70's like it was greek and roman without
the epileptics of watching a documentary on trans-sexualisation
of brazilians and ******** disco to gag on an excess of flashy lights
just to sell lipstick... and have these quasi-epileptic shivers
without having an opposing opinion to counter the freely stated & fluxed.
i guess my convulsions were due to the fact that the men
didn’t call it either homosexuality nor trans-sexuality,
and that i was actually looking at two dodos talking, meaning
i was seeing the extinction of the human race through the ****
meaning i was watching the knights templar idol, baphomet,
realised 2000 years after the crucifixion in that crown of thorn dreams,
perfected in thailand... of all places;
that actually beats the identification of ibn saud as the dajjal,
moving further east of mecca than riyadh and
the assassination attempt within the framework of muhammad’s hadith of ‘no entry’ into mecca by the dajjal.
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
Death affirms and is the term of life;
flesh and firmness, egg and ***** the means.
Breath interred within a Word and light,
deftly perched perpetually in-between:
born to discontinuous distraction,
borne through a contemptuous nadir;
but in a moment, all's destroyed,
and in the black and empty of the void,
a helix (and a hollow core) appears.
Baphomet the emblem of Its power,
sacrament the reverence revealing
devilment to Wisdom yet to flower,
absent comprehension of Its meaning.
Pan personifies the All unbounded,
flouts the misconceptions of the seeing:
Hermes the unmaskèd death,
Aphrodite's basking cleft,
the androgyne transcends within its being.
O - not called "the little death" in jest,
Gnosis vaunted in the ebb of Lust,
though is Not, the know'r of Life and Death:
know that All It Is is what thou Wast,
Its continuity the end thou seekest
in contemplation, *** and wist for death:
Thanatos, eternal sleep,
Eros, infinitely deep,
Generation poised to manifest.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
glide the sharpened blade
of a sacrificial knife
up and down my wrists
then up to my throbbing throat
so similar this seems
remembering her fingers
glide across my skin
as we became like the Sabbatical goat
neither her nor I
were either inside or out side
we were as Baphomet
and we did float
brush strokes, of our blood
used to paint the figure we were becoming
something worthy of worship
as our nails dug into eachothers sides
Oh, I could feel her ferocity
trying to get inside of me
Oh, though she could only follow me
as I follow her-like the moon and the tides
her soft lip, whispered something to me
up against my warm throbbing neck
as her hips continued to sway like the seas
and she said something to me that put a shake in my knees,
"I love to feel your heart beating
deep within me, like a serpent's in me
now feel mine on your lips
can you feel us?
Can you feel
when our souls kiss?"
I had to hold on tighter to her
as she did to me
as we spiraled away
into certain bliss
our bodies were no more
nothing but ecstasy we became
boom, bloom, eyes like blackholes
and like nubulas, we came
and there we drifted
within what is us
I am not sure if she ever came back down
her presence now is like a winds gust
so I sit here
with this sacrificial knife
teasing my belief
in tangible life
finally, I get a smile from her
as she stands in front of the sun
an so innocently says,
"Ooh, that looks fun"
"It is,
it's better than pictures."
"Even a mirror?"
"Yes, even a mirror"
"How do you do it?"
"Just breathe, and remember."
"But, what if I bleed?"
"All the better, take a sip and remember."
"We were dead, weren't we?"
"Yes, my love, yes indeed."
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
An owl of fine repetition,
Coaxes me with ancient persuasion.
His allure of virtue, facile in nature,
Reaches the darkest corners of pure being.
The simple white noise masks my thoughts;
Screaming so loud
The euphoric sound cannot be fought.
The masses flow towards the falsity of ease,
But simple is a contradiction
And erudition blossoms from anomaly,
Which the white owl cannot see.
Imperceptible to those beguiled,
And deaf to the enthralling calls,
Seduction cannot overthrow me
And Temptation remains illusory.
I shy away from no fabricated Baphomet,
Facing desolation and veracity.
Exposing myself and my entity,
My eyes cannot be shut.
Am I seduced by contumacious ignorance?
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
A glance towards the innocent
Only you don't see it that way
You put your hatred into others
to make sure they will obey
Use and misuse the human rights
"Oh Baphomet your wicked ways"
The diversions you desire
The perversions sought on earth
Since dawn of time, your presence
brought men satisfying lies
Lust in the holy ****** her eyes
Baphomet a name full of essence
Praised by those who found you
To provide destruction
Hang the skeptics..
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC
Smoldering
Field of filth
Gurgling, gasping
life giving
Life Stealing
Enabling the choice to exist
To fumigate
But please
Look past me
she taught me all I know
Grotesque
An impassioned frown
Stitched with threads of action
I wear the robe of
Blistered goat skin
he wears the crown
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 8:52 PM UTC
Madness?
Nay, gnosis--
remembering how to kiss
the waters, remembering
how to embrace the flames.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 9:58 PM UTC
My true feelings are obscured by pure bitter intellection.
My brain is the main heretic of my soul.
My thoughts… I know them well.
To each his own cognomen but yet I am confused.
Auto-Da-Fe…
But that won't work.
When I try to fathom I break.
And when I behold myself I shake.
No matter what I do, I will be held beneath the rest.
Because a sane person would help himself.
What's worse is that I know better but yet…
Perfidy…
I used to trust myself.
That’s why I write.
That’s why I write in a way that leaves all doubt behind.
Because that's how I clear my mind.
My condition hold's a banner that reads "Don’t Stop!"
But my conscience feels the need to make me be a better version of me.
So I will stop. Eventually…
Procrastination turns into never.
I am on my death bed now.
Toroidal chains erupt from thin air around me.
They tighten their grip around me in lento.
I hear a crescendo.
My sense of hearing finally decodes the glass that just fell from my hand.
I don’t see a grim reaper or Baphomet anywhere.
That gives me a little solace…
The end is near and once again, after all this time,
All I can think about is…
"What if?" ...
Jan 27, 2010
Jan 27, 2010 at 2:18 PM UTC
Somewhere sequestered in the Baphomet brain
Hemispheres destroy logic while creative bliss reigns
And waning in expression the intellectorus knot forms
Above the neck and below the skull
Choked once more in doubt’s unwelcome swarm
I hitch the rope to Sun’s post and
leap
before
the end
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 1:45 AM UTC
Is there anything purer
than the gaze of a dog, laying
across your lap or curled to
the motion of your legs?
Feeling their heart beat
on your calf, ‘_protect me_’
they say, ‘_as, in turn, I protect thee_’
They sigh. Warm breath on cold nights.
Amber eyes if shone
directly at them.
Growling at something in
The corner; a moth or Baphomet,
but whats the difference in their gaze?
Loyal to the touch,
Loving to the heart,
Linked to the soul
And then;
they depart.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC
Demons build their nest in your throat
Strangulating
Led by a black eyed goat
Baphomet
You sin then renounce your sins
Hypocrisy
And lay down your arms to the battle within
Damnation
Nov 18, 2020
Nov 18, 2020 at 8:45 AM UTC
Throughout history
in a Diasporic condition
and through the pagan
goes
another Jew sacrificed to the flesh
the World
and the devil.
Not in hiding
but seeking
redemption;
the purge--
only comes
after death.
For the next generations renewal?
Woe unto those limits of human freedom.
Let those seeking salvation convert; or let God present a sacrifice completely consumed by fire: burnt offering.
While Jesus suffered still...
those elected to **** Christ; as Judas was also chosen.
Compelled to sin,
by obligation,
on the cross of the Baphomet.
Where flesh is offered
as sacrifice
to that lord satan,
guiding them,
to hell on earth.
While having you hope
for Rapture.
As the Jew takes the place of the Church and Christian.
I reach for the Cross
aiming for the heart of the vampire
and brain of the zombie -- pogromed of glory.
Have your way upon the World especially ******
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
Blue paint for him
I think he'd be red when he reads this
Sulfer tightens the air
In a celebration for yakuza
hierophant dont **** my vibe
A brainless information shrouds us
baphomet wont **** my vibe
Except the darkness sometimes, they whisper....
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
It will all be over soon
And I'm always where the sun don't shine
The tears don't show, won't hurt me now 'cause
Heart's been broke, I hate myself, but
It won't show, I constantly lose all
My remorse, and it's ten for the wolf and
Three for the shepherd, and it's one for the sheep who
Led by your leopard, often gave his perception as a
Handle of weapon, took a bite of your apple, give me
All you can offer, now I'm trapped in a changing maze
Setting my soul ablaze, couldn't control the pace
Where is this going? Hey, heartless is recklessness, it's
Word of a pacifist to war of a ********* I'm
Off of the map,my Lord, I spoke to a Baphomet, he
Said he would save me if I gave him one thing he needed
"What is this thing?", I pleaded; boy, it's the key to even, yeah
And as I spoke, my fangs were shown
Taken aback, he smiles and tells me
"What you crave will soon be yours
But what I crave is already mine"
Anima vestra
Anima
Anima vestra
Anima
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 12:46 AM UTC
i went from being 77kg
to being 115kg,
add that to your Newtonian
concept of gravity via
jenny dinski;
comrade Kane rather
than citizen, and we just about
buried Stalin next to the
new age mummy of Lenin;
so hoorah ******* Ra: an iron eagle
to boot, pecking the hairs of
Jesus' rubric of the monkish crowns
of abbreviated hairlines, receding,
or if not receding then encapsulating
a chanced oasis; still the monks though;
and given the Templars... trouble,
either militant Islam revisionism
or Baphomet idolatry to counter
homosexuality.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
This illness in my mind is terminal.
There is nothing that can cure it.
It speaks oh so nonsensical.
It’s to be honest, quite hysterical.
Well.
I shot myself in the end
Whilst lamenting in my bathtub.
The hysteria was just too much
For my shattered heart to handle.
The judge declared her the winner.
I whimpered in defeat.
I didn’t even place.
Maybe I’m just not that unique
Or damaged enough for poetry.
The metallic taste of blood
As I drown in senseless grief
Tells me I’m not good enough.
To get back on my feet.
Her flared trousers tell me.
She has a great sense of style!
My black eyeliner.
It tells others I’m a coward.
A lamb ready for slaughter.
No Baphomet or Muhammad
Just a lost girl.
Locked in a vault of failure.
Being served defeat.
Getting grimaces from the waiter.
It’s th-the illness.
It’s forming cracks in my bonce.
It’s preventing me from winning.
From ever being at the top.
Y’know what?
She may always win.
With her pale moon skin.
Her suction cup stomach.
Her body so thin.
But me?
Just another **** failure, aren't I?
Laying dead in a bathtub.
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 11:01 PM UTC
The Baphomet at
the bottom of the bottle
said he'd drown if I
didn't drink.
He said he'd drown me
if I tried to throw him out.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 5:55 PM UTC
for scores of beings in existence in this lonesome hive as chemically comforted bees with many queens
for slaves who enslave the enslaved in the illusion of time perpetually counting down an esoteric clock of immortality
for dreamers still sleeping and sleepers counting sheep contently humming the sacrificial lullaby while ignoring the world at their feet
Listen to me!
for moloch and for baal and for lucifer and for horus and for baphomet and for satan they have you singing their heretical praises of christianity
controlled by the illuminations of an omnipotent flat screen TV force feeding you expired symbols all moldy with blasphemy
sexualized by the iridescent rainbows of the pedophilic Disney, ****** by Donald Duck in parental apathy
enraged by the deceit of the politically correct who suggest you obsess over unimportance and label obliviously
blamed when your grain burns at 180 degrees as a systematic shaming in the name of psychology
killing our expression by beheading creativity with an adderall laced guillotine
killing our knowledge by slitting the throat of wisdom with a callous false doctrine
killing our happiness by asphyxiating joy with a shopping bag all the while mocking
killing our legacies by ****** communities with the cold hard ***** of corporations
killing our togetherness by drowning human connection in the electrified oceans of a delusiinal social media
killing our faith by infecting our children with the spiritual disease of viral anti-christianity
Holy holy holy!
...the zombified mindset of this somnambulant society
Holy holy holy!
...the ever present sepearation from Love being free
Holy holy holy!
...the sleepwalking lemmings are cursed by their greed...
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 7:11 AM UTC