"visionless" poems
the seduction of eternity
ice house Shekinah
sad hag with a revolver
a carnival of skinned rats and bullets
during the blood soil days
pets left on the dark side of the moon
a deluge of morality in a palace of tears
structures of consciousness under compression
the tongue of eternity
a veiled Eros licking
blood shot distant moons
flickers a selfish dream serenade
pollen of discontent
like a pregnant superhero
dressed in a candy wrapper
treading a visionless ezoic brain
bugs; war zones of memes and genes
all matter is metaphor
near death objects
meteors of grinning spiked crowns
we are memetic plucked limbs, clawed minds
sulfurous dust
short lived bloated yolks
mice in a supermarket with tape worms
and a trade mark
we are something boiling
we are memetic plucked limbs, clawed minds
sulfurous dust
short lived bloated yolks
a holocaust in a supermarket
with tapeworms
and a trademark
we are something boiling
In the bowels of eternity
graves of meat and mud
crucifixes in a screaming
abyss
creations
rabid belly of shadows
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
A light in the dark shadows burn with a spark that ignites to a bright shining flame. The dead lie in groves of lost winter souls that wander with visionless aim. A rising relief ensues in the reef of the green and colorless gold. A raven takes flight in the deep death of night to escape from the black hell of old.
These wandering, murmuring, children of god storm wrath from the heavens and **** what is good. Devour the light as they drain all the life from the world we once called our brood.
Take us away. Drain us, defame us.
A whisper in the void.
Take us away, lock us away, **** us.
A whisper in the void.
Psychonatural Antichrist, bleeding the truth from false prophets. Summoning hellfire, demonic intrigue, desecration and violence. Infernal release, a smiling god weeps and a glare of rage seeps from beneath.
In an eternal sea of stones will they forever reap.
Death will be paid to the ones he learns to hate.
Black velvet draped across the coffin of grace.
Take us away, far and away.
A whisper in the void.
Take us away to destroy and remake.
A whisper in the void.
A whisper in the void.
Enter the darkness. Into the abyss. Far away. Thermonuclear enslavior.
Stay awake. Remaining.
Give your soul to the unknown, bleed into the black night air. The savior will come soon, to take you to His room, and liberate you from despair.
Suffocate quickly, quietly. Swiftly, so no one may hear you, or catch you dying. Slip away faster and faster the tighter you squeeze the noose around your neck.
Give yourself away. Death is your escape. Death does not betray like life will.
Give yourself to they, the keepers of the fade with intent to save and desecrate. And as they say, they will be they, and they will **** and humiliate. Break you down, drag you around, deny, defy and utilize. Every last bit will wallow in **** from the hate you created and ate from.
Suffer in pain, annihilation.
A whisper in the void.
Burn alone, in isolation.
A whisper in the void.
A whisper in the void.
A whisper...
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
I
Here’s the mould of a musical bird long passed from light,
Which over the earth before man came was winging;
There’s a contralto voice I heard last night,
That lodges with me still in its sweet singing.
II
Such a dream is Time that the coo of this ancient bird
Has perished not, but is blent, or will be blending
Mid visionless wilds of space with the voice that I heard,
In the full-fuged song of the universe unending.
2.2k
blinding light
coming from you,
sending strange
vibes,
the ones that
make me fall
for you harder,
and the ones who
will some day
lose all their light
shining on you
too much,
and will make
you blind,
not being able
to glow in the dark,
anymore,
ad i will have
to teach you
how is it to live
in the
visionless dark.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
Thoughts of the self-spoken
Left me wandering;
Tangled into the parable visions
As we gaze through the celestial eerie.
Mirrors from side to side,
I still can't see the myself inside.
Mazy patterns were confusing my mind.
Despicably appropriate,
Whereas the heavens of alas contemplate.
In this empty vast,
We see light from present to past.
Scourging sun diminishes darkness
Over light in distant visionless.
Blinded to see the real vision of the race;
To acknowledge the imagery painted to praise.
Entire race failed to obey,
Garner the intellect of marionettes strings,
Puppets of the mischief,
Puppeteers of a sheep,
The scent of the blood,
Descends a ripple from hate.
Cast the spell upon yourself,
And let the bloodshot eyes tell
How it visions the dark world's hell.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
It was written on the wall
It was plain to see,
The things that were said
Where not looked upon,
Scribed,
Chiselled,
Etched,
But not seen by all,
It was plain to see, before the eyes
But we were
Blind
Sightless
Visionless
On what we needed to observe, but couldn't
Read, decipher
The writing is there, so preserve it
Or all that will be left is what was written
But we never looked upon, what was always there.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Between the cool-quarried kitchen
and paint-faded south facing door
runs a windowless wall
sugar-papered with childhood dreams.
Memories of roughly folded gifts
squirreled in satchels,
crossed creases still intact;
curled corners fixed with shiny pins.
Luminescent paint heartens the darkness of a pitch grotto
anticipating a flicked switch
to illuminate dimmed histories
of abstract symbols, visionless figures and countless fingers.
The small pink fists that captured
Time's most precious pieces,
now live with vaguely painted hope
of sheering unsteady walls
in their uncertain world.
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 3:05 AM UTC
but I'm a **** good worker
at being so unhappy
it takes a lot
to be this naive
I've had to turn my back
on so, so many
**** red flags
and paint the frown
and fill the cup
and empty my mouth
like I empty my stomach
all at once
and walk home alone
and tell my mom it's fine
when I sound bad on the phone
because it's getting bad and I'm alone
and I've had to do so much
to keep my blind optimism
as visionless as ever
I've had to smell my shirt
since it had your scent
pretend you're there
for more than my framework
for more than that
turn my head
when I know you aren't
when I know you're not
when I walk home alone
after we've touched
and I just feel
that I deserve this
to be recognized
as the most hopeless
neurotic,
unconscious
**** good worker
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 1:45 AM UTC
yellow pages, with thin lines
held stiff, within a black spine
hard to uncover, yet so divine
the pages were empty, but the
smell of them, enlightened
the dusty places, in my mind
i sunk my hollow head, into the book
visionless, there was nothing to look
i sunk my heavy head, into the book
and the smell of rain took-
me away to the land of rain
and brown drenched wood-
the place i loved could only be
visited, through this pocket book
my home will always be between
the yellow pages of your book
-Kaya
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 1:48 PM UTC
Long journey ahead on dirt road, Dust fills the paths can't see past it, the suns heating our heads, two hot heads on path of destruction. She's so weak and tired, I give her the last sip of my water, though she's got a bottle in her bag I don't know about, thought I knew her so well.
We hear voices telling us which paths to take we turn but there's no one there to help, as end of the dirt road nears the dust gets stronger by the step, we can't see ahead we are walking visionless, I endanger myself to keep this dying flame alive, I try and try but comes the end of the road where we departed, becoming strangers and faded Memories to existence that once was.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC
I close my eyes in crowded rooms
Filtering through the voices
Each telling its own story
Some booming with laughter
Others soft and sweet
Then those ridden with terror
In a visionless world
I enter these tales
Taking role of passive observer
Into the auditory jungle
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 9:59 AM UTC
Awoke last night in the deadest of hours
From a visionless sleep
And in that deadest of hours
I began to weep
Perhaps it was the emptiness of the night
That caused the rivers in my eyes to flow
Perhaps it was my sick heart that decided to explode
But when the blackness I saw was the back of my eyes
And no longer the complete lacking of light
My mind revealed this scene to me:
Standing naked in the mirror
Flickering candles
Dancing shadows
My lover behind me, drawing nearer
Holding me warm, close, tight, safe
A kiss on the back of my neck
A fire inside, I need you
Stay
A sharp knife starts to cut
The kind of sharp not felt at first
My lover worked to filet my flesh
Dripping me hot, red, open, scared
He backed away and watched, repulsed
I wrapped my wounds, a slowing pulse...
Saved from my nightmare
By morning demands
My head knows,
Please help my heart understand
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 8:29 AM UTC
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a drive to speak for the unspeakable,
or an urge to spill words like blood from a wound?
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
is this a trigger for a wreck that is to come,
or a spark of idea from a wicked mind I can't own?
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
I can't scratch it like a card, gambling for a prize,
nor can I treat it with alcohol, poured on rashes or drank in a rush.
There's this itch I feel
but haven't figured it out yet;
it clouds my visionless eyes, naked or on lenses
it agitates my trembling hands, I can't smunpew.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
It was when I counted my wallet
That a coin fell down.
It rolled down the granite to under a chair;
My eyes followed behind.
I, as any average man, bent down
And crept to my lost possession
Until a foot stepped on it.
‘Finders keepers!’—that was his philosophy.
It was a bar, and alcohol smoked in the air.
Red visionless eyes sang drunken songs
And drunken minds danced like clowns lost in the dark.
Glasses slipped and shattered - the scent of whiskey red.
I looked on my enemy, drunk than me.
I demanded my rights in the boldest tone.
He spoke a silent no.
I spoke next with fists--tables broke, chairs crashed.
He plunged forth -- we fought and wrestled;
We were drunk in beer, ego and money.
Clothes tore, blood spilled, bones nearly broke.
Giving up was not our ideal.
I hit that dog like I would have killed him.
I made way to my money, but before I could,
He kicked my fragile jaw--I was pinned.
The game ended – Mammon was pleased.
I collected my last inch of power, fired with fury;
I grasped the broken bottle, and dived
The blade to his chest.
The coin fell off his hand, his life off his body.
The crowd looked on in silent horror.
I gaped immobile. The blood accused me.
The coin shone silver in the blood stains.
One by one, I counted my tears fusing in the whiskey.
Dec 15, 2010
Dec 15, 2010 at 7:34 AM UTC
In the summer nights
The owls see the world
The world, the simple eye can not
In simple eyes
Vision is distorted
Wrinkles of reality
Lines of insanity
All that the simple eye can not
With simple eyes
Reality is within the visionless.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC
Long ago
one stormy night
beneath the
roiling sea
long ago
one stormy night
there lay the body of me
watch the ribbon in my hair unfurl
and skin turn grey
a lackluster pearl
marvel at
my flowing skirt which does so bloom like a flower
and my visionless eyes which
had held life
back little more than an hour
do not cry, no do not weep
I should think I'll enjoy this eternal sleep
for I've lived my life and I've lived it well
for this rhyme it serves for sorrow to quell
yet still you sit morbidly enraptured
as my death takes hold long's my soul been captured
while still you watch morbidly aghast
as cold takes hold for now my time has passed.
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
Visionless is no way to be:
having sight, yet unable to see.
Soul's blindness that's dark and deep
indicates your spirit is fast asleep.
Use the Word to ignite your inner spark
and awaken your slumber by the Lord's Light.
To have Life's purpose and meaning for self
promotes character and personal delight.
Having vision is intended for all,
so get fitted with some new glasses.
Accomplishments are attainable, provided you're
willing to use God's Word, while getting off your....
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 11:19 AM UTC
I struggled
I hurt
I put on a brave face
I pretended
Carried my burdens
Boy were they heavy
I could carry no more
Reset button
I found peace
I find it everyday
Unconditional love
Wrapping it's arms around me
It conquered all
I never fear
Grace is here
So I believe
Eyes on the promise
How ever foggy it may be
To some I seem blind
But the visionless will not see
That HE lives in me
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
Lurking in the bellowed silence
A nameless note fills the void.
Passive aggressive mid-tone
Too high strung on this expectation
To linger a lullaby in this remorse.
To whisper soft the fallacy in mind,
To brush off the redemption with
A subtle sweep of a hand-cherished wind.
Murky and visionless wonders abound
To the closing of a tether-less heart.
Be it that sounds play vital veins
Or illusions part reality to satisfy
The conscious limbs of a devotion
Touching the world inside the field
The fission of the split second.
And it was love.
© 2006
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 3:45 PM UTC
The world becomes apparent when the unlit eyes receive the visionless light.
Feb 2, 2023
Feb 2, 2023 at 11:47 AM UTC
This is to her in particular,
The lass that takes after keila,
I loved her like Diamond to Bailla,
I took her my heart's cellar,
Of course never she is a baller,
Only three lies taller.
Sure you are dang beautiful,
Elements exposed in full,
You need no cutex either to school,
A man to be fool,
And certainly pick a marriage tool.
Haven't laid my grievances yet,
All were in the last paper I set,
The other day I almost bet,
With them that you were my sure bet,
Lent me your ears yet.
You neglected my brilliant efforts,
Rubbished all my plans even pivot,
The pillars of our love ***
Said my eyes were too hot,
And my visits frequent in some sort,
You have never seen a dry spell,
How every corner of the zone smell,
When rain for long have not fell,
You even miss being rained on as well,
You too will hate the sun to hell.
You have never known my part ,
How others would take even thy ****
I know you don't need my heart,
Or you kidding in some kind of art,
Aimed at fooling me to wait like nuts.
It was supposed to be 50 -50 deal,
No lose on either side still,
I sure have offered too much with will,
Now look at me withdraw for real,
The repercussions I won't feel,
I cannot forget the useless brats,
You shielded as pals of earth,
So visionless and despondent rats,
That awaits fate alerts,
They will soon lead you to their mediocre parts.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 4:38 AM UTC
Oh this human condition,
A mortal coil it's said
An amalgamation of contradictions....
I have witnessed as observant
A silent servant
(Like a punctuation,
A grain of sand am I then)
Debris from vast beyond
A whirl from cosmic maelstrom and
Now this here, we are
Alive as bone begotten
From stellar stones higher than
Our cloud valhallas
How relative the chaos
Stranger still for its distances
To parallel - how storms also do
Possess a spectrum.
Now this here, as a heavy carcass
With visionless eyes
As fragile as glass
Riding tornadoes and catastrophe
Like roller coasters
Blast
Off
Since
We are no longer from nothing,
We no longer fear
But third eye mind still blind
An intelligence that's forgetful
Of that of which is relative
(Living proof)
In every passage
We are mortal with
Each morning
Doors we enter thru...
(Yet few recall the lives before)
All I know is how to be
A better form of what I was just
Yesterday
When passersby keep on asking
"Did you find yourself then?"
This too shall also pass
Memory feels more far away
I say:
"The story's not yet done"
*What path you choose, the one you love,
Is the same path
Of awe
Of beauty
Of Grace
I bare witness
To this life
Still trying to love it all*
Oh woe is me!
(felicitously)
Oh, This mortal coil, how beloved
Life I see
A universe of mystery
Together
We shall see
Riding our tomorrow
Like a maelstrom
Fearless
On great tornadoes...
I bare witness
To thee. (I'mmortality)
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 1:34 AM UTC
Why do you insist to be visionless, claiming that your eyes have expired pass their youth, when you yourself have witness the contortion of the cosmos, and why do you declare yourself a mute, when your words carry the power to sway nations, and why do you block out the sounds of the earth, when you are able to hear the most infinitesimal of vibrations. You tell me inorder to obtain euphoria you must disregard all pleasures of the world, but how are you to neglect what is not there? You make it appear as if this is a grand burden to bare, saying numbing yourself is a sacrifice, but I think other wise, because to be oblivious to ways of the world is a genuine paradise.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 2:08 AM UTC
Record a history, personal
a personality a view complete
a movement made
with you and I and
posterity
in rhythm
a hymn sung
of a future
demanding a vision
colorless compounded
expressions of blinding
visionless memorial days
a future resounding
in words made true.
And you and I
can do.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 3:59 AM UTC
The low oriented ones,
The visionless bones,
Ignorant to every innovation of life,
They are ordinary with foolish as a wife.
They with no self esteem,
Their future ugly and dim,
They always to be there,
But no one cares!
Tear drops full up basket,
They wish to be high like rocket,
they lost hope and liberty,
They can't face reality!
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC