"infernum" poems
I don't remember the part of my job application that said i'd be bored out of mind.
I don't remember being asked to be born in a town where things to do were so hard to find.
I don't remember telling anyone to make the fuel of my escape what can only be presumed to be unicorn blood.
I don't remember exactly when i stopped being a stud.
I don't remember when my bank account shrank.
I don't remember when i started to care about what was in the bank.
I don't remember what i wanted to forget.
I don't remember if I'm lying to keep from getting too upset.
I don't remember becoming this much of a cynic.
I don't remember turning into the crotchety folks i used to mimic.
I don't member what Dante said about Hell.
I don't remember quotes too well.
I don't remember getting this sad, mad.
I don't remember when being this angsty became so bad.
I don't remember so why then i can't stop?
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
Once so mighty and powerful
upon thrones of glory and gold
loved
envied
greedy; now they fall
through the clouds they plummet
through the seas they sink
into the abyss they travel
into the depths of infernum
they fall
they fall
they fall
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC
I have waited
Paralyzed and viciously reminded
Ever humanly so
As I watch my fingertips burn
Dancing across your ever perfect skin
While your lips sear the taste of strawberry into mine
For I am scorched
Scorched by your scathing gaze
As the pits and folds of my desires
Are blackened by the thoughts of the things I should not do to you
May 14, 2023
May 14, 2023 at 5:54 PM UTC
One does not scale then claim
the ancient mountain
Nor by pretension tame the sea
Sate the deep fire’s searing fountain
Noble, though futile attempts be.
Blood, sweat stained, predatory
Alone infernum, lux ignis I stand.
I fight with no hope for victory
Mine crimson staccato metronome,
life’s sweet stain on desert sand.
Dispassionate, Fire’s breadth consuming all
Whilst ever hollowing from within;
Cracked lips cachinnate the brazen gall,
Endeavoring as healers’ medicine.
Adrift till the last ember chokes,
emptied all of malice and slaughter,
Peace be that last repose, my nox aquis,
to be embraced by night upon the water.
Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 12:43 PM UTC
With the inhalation of bullets,
as a diversion and a force to forget,
and have a neglection of
the one baptized as supreme,
then yells exigency at the pointless.
all and sundry overhead
are run by the dullards,
whose power was never absolute,
had an opportunity to resolute.
Beloved land of democracy,
whom produced kakistocracy.
To all and sundry dux:
“ad infernum apud vos”
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 6:24 PM UTC
Trapped in this infernal purgatory
At least I have you.
Thus, while my skin sears
So does my heart.
Nov 10, 2021
Nov 10, 2021 at 8:35 AM UTC
it's but the choir-imbued presence of god, and the vacuous presence of a devil that tempts me in both thought & deed, to attempt the puritanical testimony of evil... it's so quiet down in hell, you can even hear the devil think, and be made to testify as a schizoid fakery.
of men hell-bound,
so few are of stock
that might make them
interesting.
ex homines
obligatus infernum
paucci sic ex est truncus
id potentia illis facere
dulcis.
it's beyond testifying
"pig" latin, not porcus latin...
it's copernican latin -
given that the ancients wrote
like the modern arabs,
i.e. grammatically from
e.g. **** sapiens,
i.e. man wise -
i.e. wise man,
i.e. copernican with a wonder:
left to right,
or right to left?
is that dull-cheese though?
and is that fuck-er-er,
or foo-cciere?
i invoked the cappuccino for
the pau-ki...
but it's true:
the most interesting of men never
gravitate to fathom heaven,
or abide by a presence in such a realm:
the brilliant genius, or
puritanical evil leaves them
lost for words before the scorn of god...
no man of interest ever resides in heaven,
hell scolds god's wrath by
inviting all the interesting fellows
to its womb's abode -
question is:
where do all the ****** go?
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 9:57 PM UTC