"devilry" poems
Sailors, chanters and politicians
Proselytize our new dimensions
Warriors, weavers and priest-drawn blood
Sanctify our new haven.
The sun comes up
We chop wood
Toolerize and gamify our fun
Still the same man under the same sun.
And for millennia
The new is suppressed
Marked as devilry
To keep us meek.
Feeling crazy today
Going to have my say
But first I'll impregnate
The Chief's chief lay.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
Gathered in a dark night,
Because there lies fantasy of the final judge, my beloved servant,
The skyline set before a calm sunset is a clear memory, stained.
Like flowers, we rise and fall through life's misery.
Dream on- I love you, my dear servant, cling on to my wings,
For a world we see is true, what we manifest, is simply true devilry,
What I'll build you is a castle of crystal starlight.
Ready the flames of misery, slice through fate and shape the world,
My devil's angel, lean on to me, be by my side,
Ah, take hold of me and fly with me, through this spring dream,
Ah, believe our dream and don't let go; and I tie our fates,
Ah, the answer sought by this world's end is but a mystical square,
Ah, cascade through this thrilling, lingering, sweet darkness,
I will fill it with falling stars; like the snowfall to make it brighter,
Forgotten by heaven and hell, a kingdom forms in pandemonium,
Voving affection, does not only lead us to light, but will save all,
Take my hand, for the love of light is for all to bear.
~ Umi
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
Shrek is love, I told them, Shrek is dreck, they answer.
So I make this poem, to give them the cancer.
Shrek is life, I’m groaning, while they’re battering me.
I don’t care, I’m flying, over the devilry.
I don’t care that I bleed, because my Shrek is here.
I know he’s behind me, with strong ogre muscles.
He will venge what they did, and feel them with sweet fear.
Stronger than an army, he’s only leaving skulls.
But what if he succumbs, what if he expires ?
No, you cannot get him, he is stronger than God.
Wonder from where he comes, maybe he pulls the wires.
The bullies were all gone, thanks to my green best friend.
And just for all he’s done, friendship does never end.
Shrek is love, Shrek is life, and Shrek is everywhere.
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 9:19 AM UTC
I will rise,
Rise to paradise again
Spread my wings, free from any chain,
With only one goal in my eyes I look to the sky
Then I rise, yes I will rise
From the hellfire, no matter the price
May I burn
Take my turn
But then it will surely be my time to shine
The beauty of the heavens will surely be mine
I will not stand these flames,
Embrace my devilish distorted wings
See what good that may brings
One last judgement
On this long lasting journey
I will rise, rise, no matter the price
A future dawns dream, draws near
Make it clear
In this realm of art and devilry
Heartfelt dream scapes shape the mirror
In a world so dark that the stars will blind-
Refuse to fall!
Forgotten by both Heaven and Hell
A craft of hearts forms my kingdom!
Take my hand, all ye pariah souls-
The love of light is for all to bear!
~ Umi
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 11:27 PM UTC
Hidden in the ultraviolet,
Unseen by most yet to be forgotten by both heaven and hell,
Memories from the futures dawn, luxury of darkness,
Spin the wool and weave the fate, this world end's by my own hand,
Break loose of the lies and get lost within legendary illusions
A world so dark, the stars so blind an alluring form refuses to fall,
Rise, from the fire hell can't hold and is afraid of,
Spread the wings and soar beyond the scene, the art of demonicy
The holiest war is waged of what our hearts are made,
Do you nest in what you feel or have felt in this realm of devilry ?
After the mirror shows you all the truths you desire,
Deceived by your eyes, who do you want to trust ?
The last judgement ends with a long journey,
The nights luxury relies within my own hand, take it!
And maybe then, I will lead you to the light your heart cries out for.
After all, the love for it is for all to engage in.
~ Umi
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
.
Kalypso sports within the waves
luring sailors to watery graves
but if they make it to her isle
there they may tarry for a while.
Food and wine are given a'plenty,
they are rocked into lust so gently,
Nymph, Maidens, Bacchanalian revelry
lead the sailors into darkest devilry.
*** and sin are openly displayed,
a salacious procession, ***** parade,
And all men their vices expressed
seek the comfort of Kalypso's breast,
her hospitality soothes, allays their fears
as she slowly steals away their years.
© Pagan Paul (05/12/18)
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
Ignorance is such a beautiful thing,
But oh how toxic it can be.
You poisoned my mind with words of beauty,
Songs of joy my heart did sing,
But now that I know the truth,
Your reputation has been tainted.
How perfect a picture of deceit you painted.
Your behavior is (for a lack of a better word) uncouth.
Some warned that trusting you would be unwise,
But an underlying dissonant chord grew.
Maybe deep down I always knew,
But you spout such symphonious lies.
You devoured my helplessness in a bite so vicious,
But I wanted to live in my reverie,
I didn’t believe the tales of your devilry.
To my morality I’ve become oblivious.
My rationality has become a hindrance.
How can I be wrong if I did not know?
The only thing now (even as it seems impossible) is to let go,
But never will I forget the beauty of my ignorance.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
You
Are untamed
Reckless blood and wit intertwined
A twisted, brazen
mind.
Your mind
Is so clearly different
It leaps and soars, so acrobatic
And your thoughts appear to me so hazy and enigmatic
Your mind is simply not pragmatic
Yet your perception knows no bounds.
You have thoughts that come close to insanity
That sometimes flow in the form of profanity.
Your spirit
Is either very high or very low
Up and down, to and fro
There is no in between for you
Some say you are stupidly crazy
The dull ones say that, the ones too lazy
To see beyond the rugged surface.
The subdued and vapid ones
Will never understand the magnetism
Of your sweet, exquisite devilry.
On your face you often wear
A fierce and restless stare
A wan, discontented expression
As though you're always awaiting
Something bigger,
Something better.
You
Are fluid, swaying fire
And I will never tire
Of watching you burn
I can see you brain boil and churn
As it reels into into areas of
madness and chaos.
Your psyche
Is an endless field of dark reverie,
Of fear and vagary.
I know your night terrors
Your savage dreams of death
Screams and bated breath
Unutterable visions
The grotesque world of horror thats spins itself out
And dribbles into your drawings
All those creatures, skeletons gnashing and clawing...
You
Are gentle and thoughtful
Yet you are terrified
Of this dark thing that sleeps within you.
Your eyes - they’re stunning
They’re tempestuous,
Wild, like some fierce animal peering out of a rusted cage
Oh, your eyes
They are something beautiful, but annihilating
Like Autumn crocus flowers, innocently poisonous
Lids splaying delicately like its violet leaves.
You are tall and strong
And uncontrollable,
And your smile
Is the biggest paradox I've ever encountered
Childlike
And fatal.
You are not
A creature of the commonplace
You are not a slave of the ordinary
You are not a mindless drudge of the mundane
You are free.
Or bewitched, what's the difference
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
Today, I sent out at least another 10 advertisements of myself. It’s not fair. These potential employee seeking companies show me at least a thousand ads boasting about themselves, but I only got the time to send out a fraction of their words, and it’s somehow bad taste to show off my handsomeness. No pictures at all, just boring words, competing against the tacky hordes of plastic signs, overt lies, and labeled every things. I don’t even get any screen time, and if I could even afford it, they’d think I over did it. So I can’t use any ****** tricks to show my fluency in PR devilry? Y’all hypocrites.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
If you shot me with your gun
I wonder- if it would make me feel..?
You have had me tossed caressing what was once zaftig and turned simply into "oh, that one".
I wonder- if your mental switch-ery makes me ideal?
After everything you have said, tearing away that of mine which you find superfluous and overdone;
I wonder- if I could ever heal?
But, regardless, you have had your devilry and grotesque fun,
When you took that shot through me with your ****** gun.
I can now fathom what it means to feel.
I can now realize that this pain is what makes it all real.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 8:48 PM UTC
As with power of light and darkness i ride,through cosmos i glide Divine poetry Devilry MostHeavenly
Illusion of time shatters,starfire scatters,blood of heaven splatters
Left hand of God is my name Eating his wings is my game,to make me his bane
thane of heaven,tool no bell for me,for fell your heaven in the cosmic 7
666 or 999 to from chaos to eternity
Lament of innocence sang for a devil profound in god
Requiem thy starlight
gaze upon the spectral hellsight
witness destruction
and creation from 1 cause and effect
Omniscience Omnimastery
Enchanted Badassery
Starlight! in this night most long,for light is wrong
Starlight!be evils fright and my right on good and darkness
Starlight!Poetical poem for your ascension moment in this unholly Light and Darkness Interveniton
Secret of the universe,fire shall bleed,darkness will bleed light and let light bleed darkness
Cut god open so light and darkness bleed,on his blood i feed.
Grant power to the game
of the foolish winer
for light and darkness
power of illusion are
beyond the stars
beyond every universe,astral plane,dimension,and existence
lies the future and destiny
of my soul
for it is in this moment
as i speak
my awakening will come
2013-2021/2023
2021 a castle is visible from all sides of the earth in the sky,no one knows whome stands before it.
(in this universe doomsday comes in another castle)
-AlucarD
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
she
Eats mine emotions
And mars my veriest heed
Her arms is a fortress,a congenial devotion
The cannibal of whom I find peace
But certainly,the no creed
I inhere to●
■
Her
Breath speaks severity
But of fortune prudence and quietude
She sinks me the depths of her whims
Yet,ludicrously of null whips
■
Her
Eyes eclipse blunt my sights
And rancour the rhymes of my visions
But then,she is the fair breed of gleams
A pleasant hue of sparkles I beseige
■
Her
Tender tongue carriers coals
Of undying vengeance
Of which every touch trembles
Yet even as so
It feels finer than rosy Arabian night breezes
■
But
Her crest which be the counsel
Of which the wildest devilry passions is seeked
Chides and macerate my mastered pettings
■
Yet
She sets tables in her thighs
And serve the most but motley affections
■
She is despotic but decent
SADIST
©Historian E.Lexano
®Recalcitration With Excellent
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:29 AM UTC
I have travelled, many a weary step, so long, and for so long with baited breath,
ANXIOUS
ready to be relieved of the responsibilities of life
craving freedom from calamity and strife
frantic and frenzied
as though at some point i might find the answer
to an oft ignored question
i look up at the stars, as they look down at me
and bask in the glory of the past and present's symmetry
because there are so many of us...
all bound to humanity
now passed through the flame of mortality
the "others"
the ones who have asked themselves why they're here
the intellectuals warriors who have no need for fear
when they look into the veil of death
and sense the first vibrations on the pulse of life
when i used to dip my pen into the ink,
metaphorically, because my computer helps me to think
i used to doubt engaging in the process of creation
it used to enrage
my self serving denomination
the sensation of never quite being able to express yourself as fluidly as option b
or the devilry that comes from hiding yourself within the layers of flesh referred to as anatomy
i use to cower by act three,
run from the stage before the audience saw through me,
never receiving my final bow
but now i realize,
that at the core of my existence
imbedded in my instincts
is the ability of my creator....
and I'm a fan
so now when i dip my pen to the paper
I'm a masked crusader
cool, liek darth vader
and i aint never going back
to that tired dusty beaten track
refered to, in passing, as memory lane
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
Feel breath upon milky neck
give yourself
the sacrifice
for unchained paradise
and the gifts of life.
Thrusting forth upon such shapely form
the rise of golden **** and the
glide of swollen *******
such feline majesty
such magnificence of deviance.
Lay hands on nubile skin
deft and swift precision
straddled in muscular passion
the reins like a flowing mane
gracing the arched spine in pleasure.
Tilted head stretched
exposed form
catching dancing shadows
in the eternal midnight.
Call my name
as if a name
were a pulse wave
of unreserved expletives.
The chastity of yesterday
innocence lost in devilry
offered freely
like a gift to the gods
empower revelry
chemically.
****** Deeper**
Give Give Give
again and again and again and again and again and again and...
No refrain
awash in pagan sweat
doused and dripping wet
revel in cobalt aquas
close in the rise
of final exaltation
the Alpha stanza.
BOP/bop BOP/bop
hearts beat out of time
heaving breath
encased in bone and heated skin
consumed in the juices of forever
and the pleasure of
pagan archaic sin.
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
i
the neighbours like to shout
while the sun come´ s out
lily is off her pretty head
to the sky dangles thread
soft she spake no doubt
how did this come about
lifted shyly off her bed
and to an alien wed
(they resembled trout
that fetching pout..)
so i was duly bled
and impregnated
soon a mewling brat
star blown and stout
multi eye and headed
plasma fed..
saviour of the planet..!
born to poet..
born to lead
man is saved..!
ii
well the world is in a pretty
pickle
if waiting for her alien love
chile
the sun has gone in
awhile
the sunday sea continues
a smile
hovers upon her red
lip..
iii
lily a dream
cast her leaden
glance sky
wards..
lily takes from
her sleeve
her treasured
cards..
a **** on her
******
and she´ s set
on ward..!
the future
laid bare
a seer
a bird
a bard
her face
drops
bad..?
bad..
these strange
recollections
inducing
sad
reflections
caste one forth
to endless
circle-
mad..
nothing about
strange
that
but this
my god
free heart..
and the majestic
lady..
buttercups
to
her eyes
what is it..
nothing good
a wild wood
any black
blood
now this card
is usually benign
the goblets of
wine not poison
but swamp
and sunk
and choked
seems clear
not here
a hovel
and a grey
evoked
still trees and
stiller eye
there is dark
that walk
abroad
behind and
away soon
cries like
a unique
word
and yes
black coagulation
while meek
and there
struggle losing
purr
if we knew
the end
or even
this card
and this one
so little
cur
normally
a staunch
friend
souls want..!
you will get
what you deserve
this skull says
crafty devilry..!
another cooling goblet..
lily..a strong pull..
upon
the
pipe
of
love..
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
This senseless self-preoccupation
sends me straight to Hell
and I can’t tell if it’s your fault or mine
it’s fine either way, I’m not sure I care at this point
I’m just tired of every piece of my life feeling so painfully out of joint
my heart conjoined with assumed opinions and criticism that even Satan would call excessive
And I push you away like you put this on me
that you expect me to be just like everybody else
or maybe that perspective veils the reality that I know I was made for more than this
******* away my time and energy worrying about if I measure up to what you expect of me
I mean, you want me to look like your firstborn son
how can I even begin to measure up to that after everything I’ve done?
or at least this is the tape I run repeatedly in my head
And in a way it’s like I dread hearing anything besides it
because if I hear a different sound
I’m bound to bigger responsibility and I’m pushed to the brink
And I find myself sinking beneath the terrible thought that you’re disappointed in me
That you find me disgusting and can’t wait to be rid of me
But while I’m making self-pity my revelry I so often fail to see the devilry of my thoughts
not catching that I’m thinking way more highly of my brokenness than I ought
and we’ve fought over this more times than I can count,
I know.
God, how many more times do you have to show me that the way I think just doesn’t work?
How many more times will you remind me I’m not loved because it’s earned?
That Jesus took on the curse that I deserved
I’ve read and heard the story a thousand times
even though I forget it at the drop of a dime
so remind me again, I don’t have to try so hard
to be the son you want and that...
you’re not nearly as far away from me as I think you are
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 5:31 PM UTC
Circa 2005
& for some reason,
(unbeknownst to me)
they trusted a student
with the keys
to the high school auditorium.
Two, thick,
metal keys
engraved with three
words that would tempt
the whole of my disguised devilry:
1. DO
2. NOT
3. COPY
Eve to fruit
Pandora to box
Me—
to a couple of squeaky doors.
I’d hush you as we
teetered the catwalk.
We’d speak
in whispered contraband.
Forbidden acts
in the high up off-limits.
“The taxpayers don’t have to know.”
There was something
so fine
about making self-discoveries
in the untouched spaces
above the lights.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:44 AM UTC
she
Eats mine emotions
And mars my veriest heed
Her arms is a fortress,a congenial devotion
The cannibal of whom I find peace
But certainly,the no creed
I inhere to●
■
Her
Breath speaks severity
But of fortune prudence and quietude
She sinks me the depths of her whims
Yet,ludicrously of null whips
■
Her
Eyes eclipse blunt my sights
And rancour the rhymes of my visions
But then,she is the fair breed of gleams
A pleasant hue of sparkles I beseige
■
Her
Tender tongue carriers coals
Of undying vengeance
Of which every touch trembles
Yet even as so
It feels finer than rosy Arabian night breezes
■
But
Her crest which be the counsel
Of which the wildest devilry passions is seeked
Chides and macerate my mastered pettings
■
Yet
She sets tables in her thighs
And serve the most but motley affections
■
She is despotic but decent
SADIST
©Historian E.Lexano
®Recalcitration With Excellent
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 9:35 AM UTC
Do you dare dabble in unknown power
To crush any decrepit enemy
Who foolishly tries to flee and cower
From your unrivaled, profound devilry?
Will you wager your own fateful demise,
Even though your sanity's quite terrorized
At the atrocious nightmares you create
Which none can fathom, yet you celebrate?
They've nowhere to retreat from this downfall
You've wreaked upon their sordid sanctity!
Now, what they must heed is the final call
Of their imperative fatality!
Suffering in this agonizing Hell,
They'll spend the rest of eternity.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 4:16 AM UTC
Like an animal of the night, my wolf spirit chases,
An exquisite insanity, one in which I revel,
A slow prey with poisonous blood and sweat, with three faces
That, when caught, it whispers to me frailly, in hope to bedevil.
One face spits drunk and boiled spillage,
This one barks passionately without end.
The stock face of an accepted devilry, an advantage,
And an addictive **** that it lets out, a disadvantageous blend.
The other two look normal, but they rarely make sounds,
The deranged smoker is a thinker, a dying fool,
While the one in charge listens, teaches and knows,
While it fights with the other two.
The prey never runs away, but it sickly comes back to taunt my soul.
It tries to enthrall me with its black art, knowing my weaknesses by heart,
Sometimes I catch the prey, to which I whisper: “Feel my spit, black like a coal,
Never come back, you better hide, you haven’t seen yet my crazy part.”
And with a magical schism the prey splits
And hungry for adrenaline, my spirit chases them
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
All land begins
underneath these feet:
a merry makebelieve.
Jump
and catch a glimpse of Arabia
in red,
Birkenhead
in yellowish-grey,
Berlin's fading rainbow..
all lacking in depth like
floaters,
like foreign pain,
like your very first birthday.
Don't they?
Spend days in suspension,
don't you?
Well, look around!
You see ahead
and back
are much the same
when all is round.
And all IS round!
Unless of course,
you're
on the ground
where a single wave can
****
Doubtless fun,
boundless thrill, all
but for a price!
Here
even cloudy sunsets imply
sacrifice.
And at nights
perfect darkness never dwells,
Some devilry always tells the time
in mocking ways:
Jump
and you're on holidays,
divorced from all necessity,
sleeping in the sun
for days an altogether different
beast,
electrified,
with sandbagged veins.
At least not dead,
I hear you say.
How cute..
Alas! the price you pay for
being oh so futile is per se
a snide;
So pick your cherries and throw them
in that tide!
You know the lights in this harbour never return
in a straight line
May craft and the shimmering power
not let you be
the fog in the rye,
or the rock's inside.
You are round and everything
is your equal.
So consider your battles well.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 5:14 AM UTC
I had the bottle
I had the well
I had the population
and the cold interest
in consequences.
So simple:
tip it in, see what happens.
But it would have been too obvious.
I was not interested in being caught.
It gnawed at me,
for all my polished indifference,
the knowledge of the power I wielded
but could not use
Then one day
strangers came,
rolling into the village
in their painted caravans
And I wasted not one second.
As soon as the moon was full
I crept out
through the villagers' suspicious mutterings,
unseen by the baleful glances
cast at the foreign shapes and colours -
forgotten, in all my oddness,
in the wake of this new devilry.
It was the work of a moment,
a soft sound like summer's rain
then back to the shadows
to wait.
And now,
riding past the lynch-mob's clumsy justice,
circled by merry crows,
briefly entranced
by a burnt-out caravan
I can finally
enjoy
the silence.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 6:22 AM UTC
**** my bloated corpse
into a dance of devilry.
Deliver my demons
flowers of condolence.
Leach my bile,
for a while... for a while.
Save hand-me-down roses
in grave anticipation
of greater nothings.
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 3:09 AM UTC
I wonder what it'd be like having to be darkness's son,
What if I was really the devil himself and what if I had a double?
Terrorizing the subjects of darkness all the time I'd relish,
Ignoring the other ladies I come to your heaven for some peace.
Tired I'm if of all this devilry and feel exhausted so I need rest,
My double will then impersonate me playing my role where I can't.
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC