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"titans" poems
When I opened my eyes I did not see my husband. No longer was I staring into the eyes of the man I had married. What stood over me was dark... Was like a demon ready to feast on a meal that could serve an entire colony for a month. This monster gazed over my body and stared at me like the last ounce of satisfaction in existence. And with that final smirk he unleashed the beast that would rob me of total control and devoured me whole. My soul was painted with the lust of this being. This creature... this thing... this being of unholy and complete dominance... he had done the unthinkable. He was not the man I had married... oh no.. he was much much more... he was my soul mate... and that night... we made total and complete love. not in the sheets of a single room, but we broke the laws of the universe and let the stars bare witness to this event.. this new chapter. A new type of beginning. A new type of... 'Big bang"... A new start of creation. This was not simply a kink but absolute and pure passion. His eyes roared with obsession and utter desire to please me and worship my very existence. Gods would not understand such treatment, Titans could never even begin to comprehend the concept of it. It just simply was and forever could be known as... Love.
0
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC
What is Love 3... ****** Trials..
When she's around... time slows down... almost to the point of complete nothingness... I look at her and think, is there truly anything more gorgeous?.. When She's around, I feel safe and that anywhere could be called home. Her eyes; a curious stare... my hand twitches, longing to touch her curlicious hair. Our gaze's meet, and I find myself drifting... closer and closer to her feet. Her lips just within a leanings reach. Her dimples nearly touching my cheek... Her sent... 'Heavenly'. I run my hand through her hair, and I hear her gasp, a sudden rush and a cool breeze changes the whole atmosphere. Her legs grab my waist and I stare into the pupils. She leans in, our eyes drift shut but our lips finally meet and I feel the grip of her legs tighten around my waist... I walk forward until her chest presses against mine and her back makes love with the wall. I wrench her hair and kiss down her chest, real slow. I mumble sweet nothingness into her ear whilst I caress her bare ******* Her legs decend and wrap around mine and I hear her begin to beg. The second my tongue makes contact with the nape of her neck her hips grind tight against mine. This is not routine, she is trembling. Brewing like a steam pipe, compressed, ready to burst. I slip my tongue into her mouth and open it as I **** the air clean from her lungs. It is at this point her legs curls inward and rips me back, causing me to fall and back crashes against the floor and she lands right on my lap. I grab her waist as she grips onto me. The night is young, and ready to be explored. Our quest into each other will bring us beyond the star systems to a plane uncharted and unlike any other, ventured before. The night sky will bear witness to our event and the stars will weep out of sheer awe from beauty. Life, being made in a single dance of love and our moans, and wails and cries of ecstasy and desire, passion and Love... and when it was all over.. we held one another.. and peeped into each others soul. It was love... Love.. Love of the Titans.
0
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
What is Love? Part 5: A Titan's Love
When she's around... time slows down... almost to the point of complete nothingness... I look at her and think, is there truly anything more gorgeous?.. When She's around, I feel safe and that anywhere could be called home. Her eyes; a curious stare... my hand twitches, longing to touch her curlicious hair. Our gaze's meet, and I find myself drifting... closer and closer to her feet. Her lips just within a leanings reach. Her dimples nearly touching my cheek... Her sent... 'Heavenly'. I run my hand through her hair, and I hear her gasp, a sudden rush and a cool breeze changes the whole atmosphere. Her legs grab my waist and I stare into the pupils. She leans in, our eyes drift shut but our lips finally meet and I feel the grip of her legs tighten around my waist... I walk forward until her chest presses against mine and her back makes love with the wall. I wrench her hair and kiss down her chest, real slow. I mumble sweet nothingness into her ear whilst I caress her bare ******* Her legs decend and wrap around mine and I hear her begin to beg. The second my tongue makes contact with the nape of her neck her hips grind tight against mine. This is not routine, she is trembling. Brewing like a steam pipe, compressed, ready to burst. I slip my tongue into her mouth and open it as I **** the air clean from her lungs. It is at this point her legs curls inward and rips me back, causing me to fall and back crashes against the floor and she lands right on my lap. I grab her waist as she grips onto me. The night is young, and ready to be explored. Our quest into each other will bring us beyond the star systems to a plane uncharted and unlike any other, ventured before. The night sky will bear witness to our event and the stars will weep out of sheer awe from beauty. Life, being made in a single dance of love and our moans, and wails and cries of ecstasy and desire, passion and Love... and when it was all over.. we held one another.. and peeped into each others soul. It was love... Love.. Love of the Titans.
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10
Within the shadow of a false icon, Which hangs over me like fallen titans, The ones who in the darkness of ignorance wore capes and flew, But now wear maniacal grins and snarl to. The same person who used to make you want to say live, Now only force you to to spell it backwards and with yourself become more combative. He says he misses me, But that would make three, Me, mom and The Monster, He says "straighten your postue" I miss the days I could look past your hypocrisies, Back when I could look at your  and think "these are the right policies " In my time of need, You can't seem to see, Your voice make me bleed, You're whose killing me To be stuck in a house, but not a home, Trapped inside not a shrine, but a tomb, Imprisoned by the voice that used to be that of ideology and hope, Which is now the voice of the hate that hangs me like a rope, The voice that tears my mind in two, One side screaming "you are wrong," and I should be rejecting you, The other side creeping and deafaningly whispers I am the infection, adieu.
0
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
A Fallen Titan
On this night The king-god Zeus does battle With the titans of old. The sky is livened By his hurled bolts of lightening. Their targets simply Unseen to the mortal eye. The calm is shattered By the clash of thunderbolt On stone and molten rock. Our protector, he remains. Though many have forgotten him To myth, legend, and lore We have forgotten the safety That his lightning strikes provide. On sunny days Cloudless nights We are allowed to forget his ways. But on this night In these dark and stormy hours, The true believers remember. That Zeus has watched over us For millennia. Battling an unseen War, waged in the tales of old But carried out before our eyes. We must recall that he, The one King-God, Zeus, has Watched over us dutifully since time Before time before memory. He has kept us safe From the titans of old. And the lightening strikes Remind us of stories untold
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
Thunderstorm
Forth flashed the serpent streak of steel, Consummate crown of man's device; Down crashed upon an immobile And brainless barrier of ice. Courage! The grey gods shoot a laughing lip: - Let not faith founder with the ship! We reel before the blows of fate; Our stout souls stagger at the shock. Oh! there is Something ultimate Fixed faster than the living rock. Courage! Catastrophe beyond belief Harden our hearts to fear and grief! The gods upon the Titans shower Their high intolerable scorn; But no god knoweth in what hour A new Prometheus may be born. Courage! Man to his doom goes driving down; A crown of thorns is still a crown! No power of nature shall withstand At last the spirit of mankind: It is not built upon the sand; It is not wastrel to the wind. Courage! Disaster and destruction tend To taller triumph in the end.
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5.9k
The Titanic
Brother, our young summers held us in a long chain like the phalanx of bronzed soldiers forward flung, And the lion was skinned and hung out to dry like the sunned-fur of the beach at Marathon. Brother, help me to dream again. Brother, our yellowed days shook us like serried Hoplites of an atomic age, Shoulder to shoulder, friction rubbed, all ranks split from the fissioned-flanks. Brother, help me to dream again. Storm-footed Titans of heat, dust, and irradiated wind pry from a ruptured Tartarus, The flanks are an open pulse; the scorch-song thirsts for its sea-cooling to stone. Brother, the lion lives that wears your skull around its mane. Brother, dream of me again, of Persian arrows and lances, And my fallen eyes instead of yours pouring in With a sea of lavender water and mists And summers of once-were.
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Jun 8, 2019
Jun 8, 2019 at 8:59 PM UTC
Summer War of Youth
Thank you Mr Lee, for helping us see. There's more in your universes, than we could ever be. Your imagination, was without limitation. The heroes you gave us, they really did save us. You started with a dream, that turned into a team. They are called the avengers, and they'll always be remembered. Silver Surfer, Iron Man. Captain Marvel, Spider Man. Winter Soldier, Black Panther, Deadpool, Gene and Logan too. Titans, Red Skulls, Sabertooth. Stones of power on the loose. Rocket, Thor, Gamora, Groot. You made them all and we thank you.
0
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
Stan Lee
Zeus, your predilection for banishing Titans to Hades... anathema of them--revolt was theirs of you...Titanomachy. Enter Prometheus, second generational Titan, brother to Atlas--Prometheus of whom Titan revolt at first ran no fire through his veins. Thus, Zeus was well pleased and employed Prometheus to put earth to water, water to earth...as to yield man. As so man was, and was unto Prometheus...a fondness entered him of them. And in of passion Prometheus' veins were run through with fire...fire fought fire--thus Prometheus reached out taking hold Zeus' lightning. Hid in a hollowed fennel stalk, to be bequeathed unto man. Torrents of fire now ran Prometheus' veins, and in a fit of infamous mockery presented Zeus with two packets of slaughtered animal parts. A hubris was born in Prometheus that being so halved God-man gave itself fully to that polarity...he gawked at Zeus and bade him choose between the two packets. One of ox meat and innards coated in stomach lining, the other of ox-bones coated in its own abundant fat. Thus Zeus chose, the wretched lesser of the two... inconsumable ox-bones coated by fat. A charged and terrible air cut and heavied all direction, pointing assuredly that Zeus was one given over to the surface of things, a psychological casualty of his own vanity. Zeus overcome with Prometheus' disaffection for the God of him struck at Prometheus' family. At length, this assault could not, would not put asunder Prometheus from the ground he stood. A certain Haphaestus was summoned by Zeus...whose directive was writ in torment. Chain Prometheus to Mount Caucasus...where from on high a sackcloth cloud shall shake loose an eagle, whose homing hunger shall have only a taste for Prometheus' liver. Day in, and day out, that accursed ***** shall be the bounty of itself!
0
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
Prometheus, That Accursed ***** Shall Be The Bounty Of Itself
Zeus, your predilection for banishing Titans to Hades... anathema of them--revolt was theirs of you...Titanomachy. Enter Prometheus, second generational Titan, brother to Atlas--Prometheus of whom Titan revolt at first ran no fire through his veins. Thus, Zeus was well pleased and employed Prometheus to put earth to water, water to earth...as to yield man. As so man was, and was unto Prometheus...a fondness entered him of them. And in of passion Prometheus' veins were run through with fire...fire fought fire--thus Prometheus reached out taking hold Zeus' lightning. Hid in a hollowed fennel stalk, to be bequeathed unto man. Torrents of fire now ran Prometheus' veins, and in a fit of infamous mockery presented Zeus with two packets of slaughtered animal parts. A hubris was born in Prometheus that being so halved God-man gave itself fully to that polarity...he gawked at Zeus and bade him choose between the two packets. One of ox meat and innards coated in stomach lining, the other of ox-bones coated in its own abundant fat. Thus Zeus chose, the wretched lesser of the two... inconsumable ox-bones coated by fat. A charged and terrible air cut and heavied all direction, pointing assuredly that Zeus was one given over to the surface of things, a psychological casualty of his own vanity. Zeus overcome with Prometheus' disaffection for the God of him struck at Prometheus' family. At length, this assault could not, would not put asunder Prometheus from the ground he stood. A certain Haphaestus was summoned by Zeus...whose directive was writ in torment. Chain Prometheus to Mount Caucasus...where from on high a sackcloth cloud shall shake loose an eagle, whose homing hunger shall have only a taste for Prometheus' liver. Day in, and day out, that accursed ***** shall be the bounty of itself!
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38
I hear thunder *No you don't, The voices in your head want some more* You're lying! I am aware of my blunders. I can hear thunder! *No,  you can't you're just deaf and without a plan* You're just inviting trouble Everyone is trying to hurt me. My only defence is the thunder I hear it. I feel it. Zeus loves me. Mountains tremble in fear. He is ready with his bolt. It's a message you don't see it yet but when thunder shakes the ground you shall hold your breath. *Talk about Hermes, Apollo and everyone else. The thunder shall do us no harm. Olympus was never safe. Aphrodite knows how to sell her body There will be war, my friend. The titans will rise. Kronos will escape from Tartarus and attack in stealth.* You dummkopf, you have no idea what you have been talking Don't argue over Father of God's bolt! God of the skies. Traveling by air? You might die. Poseidon can make your way back difficult This behaviour of yours was very typical. *You ignore your mind when it plays tricks on you Oh dear, you really are a fool*
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Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
The debate between the fool and the hunchback
Hercules, Fear that call. Hades will take, Everything from you. Zeus, Your son asks for reinforcements, To seal. The everlasting Titans..
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May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
Hercules, Seal Thy Titan
Unapologetically Human I am **** on the mezzanine facing the darkened wet road illuminated with acrid yellow tube light better reds and blues surround towering palm trees wooden fingers of ancient giant hands buried below growing leafy green nails stretching skyward little things, orange ribbons, endless cricks and dollops bobbles and winches Spirits Play among the windmills climb to the top of trees and sing into the warm wind songs of *** and heartache as the universe ruffles along Dive head first into the opponents forehead grind the sand into his flesh with ram like resolve until the skin is red, determine to die This life is worth proving, the stars are worth gazing, and this body is worth bathing in the Maui air with naked delight The ocean calls to my heart water is a true lover whispering, kissing inescapably feminine I submerge my soul in joyful waves always the tides follow the moon like my silly heart, eclipsing both light both night both day simultaneously cycling fully the light shines and our eyes perceive shadow faces in the dark blanketed clouds the mountain gargoyles stand as titans, forgotten creatures shoulders and heads, waiting for the moon ball the ocean moon, tranquil bays the air is sweeter with you near, a distant thought cast about the horizon, the sun melting easy golden into my dreamy eye, bless my drunken lips dripping doltish songs into the friendly night Wrestling with bulls of men we kept our shirts on this time, yet blood was drawn in the sand we madly danced in the moonlight to clapping hands, kicking feet and knees the ceremonial struggle toasting the stars bottles were shared, some puffed on cigars Come surf with me in the morning or anytime the sun shines even under moonlight would I meet you and we could paddle come fill your heart with life and lust and romantic passions idyllic as freshly fallen snow undisturbed by worldly concerns be not abashed for this embrace is a natural wonder of the soul, join me, forget what words of yesterday the prophets of doom chant, we make our own tomorrow
0
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:48 AM UTC
We Make Our Own
Unapologetically Human I am **** on the mezzanine facing the darkened wet road illuminated with acrid yellow tube light better reds and blues surround towering palm trees wooden fingers of ancient giant hands buried below growing leafy green nails stretching skyward little things, orange ribbons, endless cricks and dollops bobbles and winches Spirits Play among the windmills climb to the top of trees and sing into the warm wind songs of *** and heartache as the universe ruffles along Dive head first into the opponents forehead grind the sand into his flesh with ram like resolve until the skin is red, determine to die This life is worth proving, the stars are worth gazing, and this body is worth bathing in the Maui air with naked delight The ocean calls to my heart water is a true lover whispering, kissing inescapably feminine I submerge my soul in joyful waves always the tides follow the moon like my silly heart, eclipsing both light both night both day simultaneously cycling fully the light shines and our eyes perceive shadow faces in the dark blanketed clouds the mountain gargoyles stand as titans, forgotten creatures shoulders and heads, waiting for the moon ball the ocean moon, tranquil bays the air is sweeter with you near, a distant thought cast about the horizon, the sun melting easy golden into my dreamy eye, bless my drunken lips dripping doltish songs into the friendly night Wrestling with bulls of men we kept our shirts on this time, yet blood was drawn in the sand we madly danced in the moonlight to clapping hands, kicking feet and knees the ceremonial struggle toasting the stars bottles were shared, some puffed on cigars Come surf with me in the morning or anytime the sun shines even under moonlight would I meet you and we could paddle come fill your heart with life and lust and romantic passions idyllic as freshly fallen snow undisturbed by worldly concerns be not abashed for this embrace is a natural wonder of the soul, join me, forget what words of yesterday the prophets of doom chant, we make our own tomorrow
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49
A boat, a world. Sailing unseen seas. Gathering legendary creatures. Mythical society contained within a sailboat. One world hidden within another, blind; no normal man can see beneath. Inspect, titans fire cannons, Charon runs sick bay. Lady Lorely has all webbed hands on deck, the blue men of the Minch guard the mighty Orpheus. Quiz you they will on will power and skill, all mortal men undone. Every battle is won by The Orpheus, without war.
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Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 2:02 PM UTC
The Orpheus
Midnight approaches Tick tick tock Won't someone stop The Doomsday Clock From striking oil Drilling rock Thirsting soil Aftershock Deserted hourglass of sand Shifts to resource hungry hand Tyrants of time assume command Greed consumes This wasted land First come the roaches Tick tick tock The bugs can't stop The Doomsday Clock With beehive brains No voice to talk And droning minds Comprise the flock As lone wolves feast On sheep they stalk Then fear encroaches Tick tick tock Too scared to stop The Doomsday Clock As violence claims Each city block Blood drawn on streets Like sidewalk chalk When Hatred's loaded Gun is cocked Beyond reproaches Tick tick tock How could they stop The Doomsday Clock When despots trade In human stock Waging war Upon this rock As profits slaughter More livestock The end approaches Tick tick tock No hope to stop The Doomsday Clock As poisoned skies Corrode this rock With toxic lies Controlling hourglass of sand Clenched by Atlas choking hand Titans of industry command Still Chronos rules This dying land
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Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 2:09 PM UTC
The Doomsday Clock
In the distant lands of forever misted light seeps beyond line of sight where gulls circle above the ocean squall lies the dream of ethereal treasure drifting in and out of dancing firelight. Within the lush and precious emerald reaches fly majestic golden hummingbirds graced in flight off untouched white sand beaches shadows stand tall in the eye of a lonesome moon and in its fleeting ephemeral decree couple wine with unspoken wise words and see them better received. In the Eleusinian dreams of men gather the cornucopia of breath nourish oneself in the last passing of days grasp firm the righteous omen and embrace the rituals within thy beating breast. See glowing amber give flames to creation revel in the pagan shamanism rise above the mortal coil of chains craft a celebration and in the haze of hedonism dance naked in the summer rain.
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Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
In the Presence of Titans
Arid desert shimmering heat haze shielding eyes, dazzling rays blazing sun beats down. Mirage Crowned with aureole gold you shine strength, beauty Being divine Mirage In your smile sunbeams dance In your eyes Entranced Mirage Golden chariot steeds of fire Son of Titans Heat, Desire Mirage Illuminated days together Sun God Burn in me forever Mirage 22/01/19
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Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 6:28 PM UTC
Mirage
Our trajectory is unknowable, you tell me: the planet corkscrews around the Sun, sure, but the Sun corkscrews around a black hole at the heart of the Milky Way, and our whole galaxy travels on some mysterious, incalculable vector. But sister, I saw a photograph in which two whale sharks were brought to heel by men in simple reed boats just off the coast of the Philippines. All that they had to do was often feed the sharks many gallons of grocery-store frozen shrimp, poured from plastic garbage bags into their yawning six-foot maws to portside. Gargantuan, sure, but still as obedient and eager for food as backyard squirrels. I remembered a grainy internet video—I saw it probably seven or eight years back—in which a captured whale shark was winched ashore in Madagascar, or maybe it was the Philippines again—no matter— the thing still had life left in it and struggled to breathe while a crowd of people gathered around—there were women carrying babies, girls holding baskets atop their heads—and then the men came with a long slender blade and sliced clean through the whale’s spine, vivisected it right there on the dock, and the onlookers stood there quite unfazed—I remember being shocked at the effortlessness of the cut, the pinkness of the whale’s blood, and the boredom in the onlookers’ eyes. Our father took us down to San Antonio on one of his business trips there when we were five or six—I think you were probably too young to remember it— it was when you and I saw the ocean for the first time. We drove down to the Gulf of Mexico, and we saw waves breaking out near the horizon in pale sunlight. I kept scanning for a dorsal fin off beyond the breakers, thinking that I might spot one— sandy brown, mottled with cream spots and glistening—so that I might be able to say to you, pointing, “look, sister, there is a whale shark!” Years later we would learn that he traveled down to San Antonio so frequently because he was a philanderer. As a child I believed that whale sharks crisscrossed the ocean following paths that we couldn’t fathom, that their concerns were somehow beyond our comprehension, but then Keppler pinned down the shape of the Earth’s orbit over four hundred years ago, and the lives of ancient sea titans are sundered effortlessly by men with indifferent faces.
0
Sep 22, 2023
Sep 22, 2023 at 2:27 AM UTC
By men with indifferent faces
Our trajectory is unknowable, you tell me: the planet corkscrews around the Sun, sure, but the Sun corkscrews around a black hole at the heart of the Milky Way, and our whole galaxy travels on some mysterious, incalculable vector. But sister, I saw a photograph in which two whale sharks were brought to heel by men in simple reed boats just off the coast of the Philippines. All that they had to do was often feed the sharks many gallons of grocery-store frozen shrimp, poured from plastic garbage bags into their yawning six-foot maws to portside. Gargantuan, sure, but still as obedient and eager for food as backyard squirrels. I remembered a grainy internet video—I saw it probably seven or eight years back—in which a captured whale shark was winched ashore in Madagascar, or maybe it was the Philippines again—no matter— the thing still had life left in it and struggled to breathe while a crowd of people gathered around—there were women carrying babies, girls holding baskets atop their heads—and then the men came with a long slender blade and sliced clean through the whale’s spine, vivisected it right there on the dock, and the onlookers stood there quite unfazed—I remember being shocked at the effortlessness of the cut, the pinkness of the whale’s blood, and the boredom in the onlookers’ eyes. Our father took us down to San Antonio on one of his business trips there when we were five or six—I think you were probably too young to remember it— it was when you and I saw the ocean for the first time. We drove down to the Gulf of Mexico, and we saw waves breaking out near the horizon in pale sunlight. I kept scanning for a dorsal fin off beyond the breakers, thinking that I might spot one— sandy brown, mottled with cream spots and glistening—so that I might be able to say to you, pointing, “look, sister, there is a whale shark!” Years later we would learn that he traveled down to San Antonio so frequently because he was a philanderer. As a child I believed that whale sharks crisscrossed the ocean following paths that we couldn’t fathom, that their concerns were somehow beyond our comprehension, but then Keppler pinned down the shape of the Earth’s orbit over four hundred years ago, and the lives of ancient sea titans are sundered effortlessly by men with indifferent faces.
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64
The sky is solid, gray, motionless. Shuffling bodies with obscured shadows Make haste for shelter From the stark, lifeless outside With its grass that only lives if watered, The always leafless trees, And the carcinogenic air. Looking upward, Through the smoggy haze, One sees the neon silhouettes Floating in the sky, Atop the glass and steel monoliths. They speak to those below, Of subtle, clandestine oligarchy. Subconsciously belittling the anonymous masses, "We are Titans, you are rats." Say the towers, As the populace quietly passes over stained concrete and asphalt, Wearing breathing masks, Saying not a word to the thousands they pass. We make haste in this world. We cannot afford to help a stranger, To make a detour with a view, To get your child that gift they really want. So fiercely we have been strangled That empathy is illogical. "What a world" we all say, As we avoid eye contact with the hungry; As we change the channel from the melodramatic infomercial About starving, disease-ridden children somewhere else; As we console ourselves with hollow entertainment and intoxication, To keep the guilt at bay, To keep the thoughts at bay, "Just do what's best for you, Don't step out of line, Shuffle in, Follow the queue. That's all you can do."
0
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC
Collectivism
We have erred from the path. We have succumbed to the illusions of our foolish desires. We have extended our hand to brush against her beauty, even if for a moment. We have broken our vow. For this we have suffered. We have been stung by the barbs of her disloyalty. For this we have spit venom upon ourselves, burning against the skin as if it drips from our teeth. For this the Solitude mocks us, boasting in its victory with fervor. Alone we kneel in darkness. Perfection guide us. Alone we wage war against the terrors of the night. Perfection save us. With every nightfall, we stare deep into the harsh gaze of the Solitude. Soon our beloved mentor will depart, and our enemy will be mightier than titans. Yet the Perfection is mightier, and has called a traveler to cross our twisted path. We gazed in awe as her very steps smoothed the jagged edges without difficulty. How we wished to learn her secret. The venom turned to silver as we pleaded for the Traveler's attention. Yet with every glance she cast upon us, we hadn't the strength to look on. How we wished we could meet her gaze. Her company was short-lived, yet we cannot help but admire the footsteps she left behind. How we wished for her to stay. We shall press forward on this grueling path, holding firm that the Traveler will return to polish the road once more.
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 12:11 AM UTC
Traveler
.the moral obligation, to be cognitively dissident; which has to align with Heiddeger's da-sein at some point... a piquant fervor for reality as: static, yet at the same time moving in the realm of the Titans / orbs - time, is a concept that has to match up to the orbs... otherwise all this space... whatever the wind, the clouds... is just static... inanimate... time could only be derived from animate objects, which became subjects which became momentum... the rest, the rest is just space, and its excesses of the vacuous night... space became a probing mechanism, an investigative vector, posit, charge. now you call me a germanophile... like a Caligula or some odd **** kennts ihr selbst:     know your self... which is a reflective form of the reflexive Anglo counterpart: yourself. so i noticed... whenever i become, really, and i mean really reactionary (not angry) i tend to drift into writing in my native tongue... funny... mother tongue, fatherland...    but it's the opposite in Moscow... motherland...    and the epitome of the Cyrillic?                 well... there was a St. Cyrill...             but father-tongue just sounds so ****** stupid in English... maybe in German?    vaterzunge...               well... sure as **** that sounds better than mutterzunge... but hey, preferences preference preferences, not everyone says: om, om, ooh, chocolate,        when taking a bite of a ****
0
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
kennt ihr selbst
Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards Rolling and filling; syncopating the noise Of the tit-less toys The dick-less boys Enraptured in the music The anthem Of invidious phantoms My eyes hurt inside and I want to pull them out and Scrape out the gunk and rust that’s behind my self-indulgent perseverance so I can cry for the first time in years… Wrapping my hands around his slender torso Licking away the paint, the dripping ooze; more so Than hastening my ****** and mordant urges To bite what emerges And my mouth purges The obelisk from underneath The iron-pierced jester The voracious molester My hand tightens as I grip his throat tighter and I want to squeeze until his eyes pop from his sockets and laugh until I puke against the walls, watching the ****** fluids mix like an execrable marinara sauce… I turned thirty while still being sixteen The vivid beauty of the world was only in dreams But none of mine, none that I can recall Many years have passed since I took the oral fall Where no one saw Intransigent need to live For the snake in my veins hungered for more So many had their way until I was limp and sore. Defamatory fingers of mire and strife Probing and stretching My insides And devilishly comforting With limpid ambrosia That’s infected by bilious worms and maggots covered in icing And fruit Amatory gauntlets fastened and secured over Handless limbs that retract under matriculated frictions That fracture, crack, morph, distort Emphasize, marginalize Rationalize, desensitize Acts of *********** evasion, moral drainage; Pieces, bits, chunks, sections, portions, servings; Arms, legs, eyes, tongues, fingers, toes, Love, lust, infatuation Adoration Boys, girls, women, men, Angels, demons, monsters, humans Creators, gods, titans, divas All extended and limited from the minds that worship Sanctify, mesmerize, glorify, rectify While humans eat more, love more, **** more Than the angels, demons, monsters, and titans We ponder and cherish Nevermore, for me Ever lore, for all Crows surround And chaos found.
0
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
Anatomical Pieces, Didactic love
Sweltering insurgencies of electric power chords Tribal reverberations of skin-stretched drum boards Rolling and filling; syncopating the noise Of the tit-less toys The dick-less boys Enraptured in the music The anthem Of invidious phantoms My eyes hurt inside and I want to pull them out and Scrape out the gunk and rust that’s behind my self-indulgent perseverance so I can cry for the first time in years… Wrapping my hands around his slender torso Licking away the paint, the dripping ooze; more so Than hastening my ****** and mordant urges To bite what emerges And my mouth purges The obelisk from underneath The iron-pierced jester The voracious molester My hand tightens as I grip his throat tighter and I want to squeeze until his eyes pop from his sockets and laugh until I puke against the walls, watching the ****** fluids mix like an execrable marinara sauce… I turned thirty while still being sixteen The vivid beauty of the world was only in dreams But none of mine, none that I can recall Many years have passed since I took the oral fall Where no one saw Intransigent need to live For the snake in my veins hungered for more So many had their way until I was limp and sore. Defamatory fingers of mire and strife Probing and stretching My insides And devilishly comforting With limpid ambrosia That’s infected by bilious worms and maggots covered in icing And fruit Amatory gauntlets fastened and secured over Handless limbs that retract under matriculated frictions That fracture, crack, morph, distort Emphasize, marginalize Rationalize, desensitize Acts of *********** evasion, moral drainage; Pieces, bits, chunks, sections, portions, servings; Arms, legs, eyes, tongues, fingers, toes, Love, lust, infatuation Adoration Boys, girls, women, men, Angels, demons, monsters, humans Creators, gods, titans, divas All extended and limited from the minds that worship Sanctify, mesmerize, glorify, rectify While humans eat more, love more, **** more Than the angels, demons, monsters, and titans We ponder and cherish Nevermore, for me Ever lore, for all Crows surround And chaos found.
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67
When I found you, I hated you. Now I understand you. I gave you reason to cast me out: veil of spite, cloak of confused fear-- As I come to know what makes you tick I respect you as deserved. Your violence should have been presented by now, not restrained and checked, silent caged bird-- I envy you and your unshakable faith, resolve of the stubborn gods, drive of  the hungry wolf-- you deserve more, than the awful posture of your peers. Whatever you do, you will not fail to find yourself, among the triumphant titans. Your effort is not lacking like ours: your heart is the rising sun which teaches and inspires in magnificence-- which teaches and inspires, in us echoing this stimulation from awakened mind to kindled soul.
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Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
Former Distrust
Beyond the massif peaks of Europa, Above the ancient pillars of Heracles Where rain and ocean are weaving, Lays a fabled kingdom born of waves And noble strands, my beaten hearts Haunting, the lost, lush sylvan lands Of Galicia. Where Incomparable, dark Haired women, mythic, of Amazonian Fairness, side the valleys and moors Of soon forgotten dreams and secretive Wolves slide amongst warmed runnings Of the ram and moans of ewe, where Way bountiful seas are over spilling, In octopus and pearly gemmed shells, The scalloped pilgrimages unfolding, Where incense burns with under stars Encased, the lost Atlantean temples Of Egyptian sands and storied Gaels, The clad forests of wandering Titans, Where snow white beaches end forever Unmapped in told footsteps, castaway, As was the magi gift of treasured yards, Enlightenments, of old and golden isles Pearling the coasts, sailing the sweet airs Crossing Iberian gates, to Elysian, eternal, Galicia.
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Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 4:08 PM UTC
Galicia
There is dark magic Here in my attic A magician’s tactics Cause pain emphatic This magician gives me all I can handle Until one day I’m dismantled Like a once lit candle Extinguished by the ice near Ymir Birthing the Titans I fear Bringing death here Morphing me into a rigid wreck Here in the frigid depths I wish I left The violence of violins Lamenting the vile sin Conjured by riled kin Like they’re wild djinn Can’t be muted Only diluted By becoming rooted In thinking stupid Avoiding Cupid To join the putrid The magician concocts potions That excuse my emotions As I forget devotion For a temporary motion The magician gives us difficult obstacles And easily medicated excuses So people won’t make things optimal While purpose eludes them Like Jekyll and Hyde My hackles I hide With shackles of pride Covered in mystic thorns So my wrists are torn From the pain adorned It’s my brain I mourn The magician erects walls so thick They separate healers from the sick With magic bricks Imbued by the magician’s enchantment He builds a wall and then expands it Until those inside become tantric From the prison wall’s antics Every time I turn the page I am given rage On the magician’s stage Of the wars we wage Under a curse of anger Dehumanizing strangers To deploy the Army Rangers Perpetuating harming danger The magician lies The magician steals The magician hides What is real Until I feel The cold steel The magician wields Piercing through my electrified body I guess the magician finally caught me
0
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 6:42 PM UTC
Magician
There is dark magic Here in my attic A magician’s tactics Cause pain emphatic This magician gives me all I can handle Until one day I’m dismantled Like a once lit candle Extinguished by the ice near Ymir Birthing the Titans I fear Bringing death here Morphing me into a rigid wreck Here in the frigid depths I wish I left The violence of violins Lamenting the vile sin Conjured by riled kin Like they’re wild djinn Can’t be muted Only diluted By becoming rooted In thinking stupid Avoiding Cupid To join the putrid The magician concocts potions That excuse my emotions As I forget devotion For a temporary motion The magician gives us difficult obstacles And easily medicated excuses So people won’t make things optimal While purpose eludes them Like Jekyll and Hyde My hackles I hide With shackles of pride Covered in mystic thorns So my wrists are torn From the pain adorned It’s my brain I mourn The magician erects walls so thick They separate healers from the sick With magic bricks Imbued by the magician’s enchantment He builds a wall and then expands it Until those inside become tantric From the prison wall’s antics Every time I turn the page I am given rage On the magician’s stage Of the wars we wage Under a curse of anger Dehumanizing strangers To deploy the Army Rangers Perpetuating harming danger The magician lies The magician steals The magician hides What is real Until I feel The cold steel The magician wields Piercing through my electrified body I guess the magician finally caught me
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62
200 miles away connected by VNV Nation we speak of stars we speak of space & I just want to be weightless with you. We wrap our words in time machine blankets to worlds we’ve never been. Man, they don’t even exist in this scene but we’ve begun to vacation there to see the stars in space stationed there where we can just be weightless there be weightless there be weightless there I want to take you by the hand, & float on into our sonic plans to meet next week & fly inside each other’s stripes while the entire world just wonders why or how these psychedelic titans imbibe so much inspiration from their color blind mind’s eye… the echoes echoes of each other’s smile reminds me of the stars once in a while because I just want to be weightless weightless weightless with you.
0
Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 3:03 PM UTC
Weightless