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zebra Jul 2018
i have no words for emptiness
i'm a bulwark of clots and knots

death is a *****
in a party mask
her seduction a cruel bite
we have always lived for

nakedness on a pyre
makes the man

the bodyless are toasting at a college breakfast party
in the netherworld
of new birthed astral lights
the dead living
somersaulting like fantasmal flux

while we the living dead
gimp through labyrinths time-space
marking spired hands of a clock
that *****  
like a black glove
 towards endless white-knuckle struggles
no matter our destiny
in a dream of forms
like run on *****

a truth only the dead know
zebra Oct 2017
she is LuNa
she called him
Mr hypnotic
maybe because
he practiced the subtle art of conversational hypnosis
or perhaps he was a night dragon
blink-less staring into her soul
as if she where naked
and her thighs were cradled in his amorous arms

she ached to be his love slave
on her knees, she wept
a mosaic of desires
her toes adorned with inlaid rings
her tongue in flames
wanting him thick in her mouth

her ******* heaving
like a black sea
******* sticky hot
her *****
a cracked ***
leaking buttery ooze
a mindless baby doll
in a chaotic embrace

he
all mad mans grasp
she would be his butter cup and blood buffet
to be buried
feet over her head
and spread wide

seized fingers entwined
a rose of ruin
fuckarella
a dark hazel with a wandering ******

her soul
on a ferris-wheel
from heaven to hell
a ****** odyssey
endearments and bites
a blood soaked mouth
lapping up his wet crotch fruit
raving red rage burning

she
eaten and licked like blood cherries impaled
used abused
and forever
gratefully amused
beaten
sweeter than a *** at a ***** movie
waiting desolate for her demonic lover
odalisque in love
ODALISQUE
*** SLAVE
zebra Jun 2017
as a child i had a sense of before
i only a tenant in this world

i dreamt, i remembered
a place of light and freedom
of flying weightless
without a care
recurring reveries
of changeless drifting

but as i got older
my astral excursions
turned to thin air
much to hearts despair
i fell weighted to this terrestrial sphere
by thickened accumulations
of hard niches and obscurations
a delicate spark burdened
by sheaths of gnawing reason
engulfed in brutish struggle

at times
i obsessed
aching to go
back from where i came
maybe stepping in front of a speeding car
desperate to get home
where the dead
live it up

cadaverous child
a strewn tangle of little limbs
broken
on a country highway
who made a hard sacrifice
for a bigger life
where the very sensation of existence
was a floating ecstasy
like an atomized cloud puff

where the dead
are not dead at all
but enchanted children
living
with faces like suns
on the other-side of the looking glass
feet to the stars
in the arms of heaven
zebra Dec 2019
effulgent sun
in the cave golgatha
indifferent to the satanic beast religion
like all things here
the temple shreiks
prayers helpless,
wounded and anguished
liturgies
with idol Christ figurines
​and pie high heavens
for loathing low minded sinners

parishioners expensive burden  
Eucharist and crucifix
a fictional lump of flesh
in a bloodless wafer
abacus of nothing
in the deranged city
religion
  
for gods sake
there is no God there.
A poem in the memory of the wonderful and great Christopher Hitchens
zebra Dec 2019
hungry mouth
where thighs conjoin
like bells and finger cymbals

coiled spit snake shatters
and i swallow her ***, whole
up though accordion throat
kneeling slave in a smash face footopia

my spine bends
pushing
****** rings
*****'s gate
sublime fem Christ of ***
giving birth to ecstasy
a wreathe of tongues
like a thousand needles of heroine

her god a glistening cyclops
**** of immortality
ball ******* licking burglar
and mine this ****** wet oyster
drool tongue  
stained viper
a slithering felicity

animals devouring animals devouring animals
in a puddle of scarlet wounds
sublime *****
hungry for another ensanguining stab
gut punch puke ****
her ****** a crying torrent
***** trap
of wild hollow eyes
moon struck bomb
a blurred curve of desire
convulse sput patters
lunatic of lust
on the giddy brink
all tears and sweat

i erase myself  
release
for pom pom derrière
throat clutch gag
my tongue unwinds her
and the world drops dead
zebra Apr 2017
of the teenage years
when parents become strangers
an emergence of a new self
orphaned by maturation
the old shelter of mommy and daddy
a dead wood forest
a leaky roof of annoyance
sharp elbows
in the hovel of mind
no more afterbirth dinners
we get our own food
pull off the wires of obedience
we are a new hat
eyes to the sky
no more being dragged through old valleys
step up and off the precipice of dependency
an upward sweep
to find shaky ground
in shadows labyrinth
holding roses
destination unknown
ORPHAN
SINGLES VILLE
WEDDED
.....
A SHORT  TRILOGY POEM
ABOUT RIGHTS OF PASSAGE
zebra Nov 2021
reality collapses
into a paragon of nothing
forming memory
of boundaries like detonating corridors
about primate organization
chemical interventions
and political furors

the mind of earth
forces a mashup
of alternating currents
as the higher sends the temporal
for excursions into whatever the ****
like a dog on a leash

in another clinical metaphysics workshop
for karma farmers
we lick hell's ***
in a greasy crowd with jaundice  
for our own ******* good

i cross dimensions
like an alchie with the shakes
where one reality collapses into another
making me ****** again
in a transfiguration
of canvassing beauty
towards deportment for a slow withering
like the astonished refugee
when shipped to a clumsy place
for shattered senses

with every crown
the gift of life
comes the guillotine
zebra May 2017
i dream of her
flourish mouth spiral
eyes drawn down
yielding
naked lips cocktail
lost ******* waiting
bare ankles linger
for graces slave bracelet
and fire branded buttocks

her face a
punctilious smile
are you my fate she asked
i am a little inky mouse
and your a fat tabby
i belong in your jaws
will you throw me around
drop flip spin and play
buffet little me
with pointy needle teeth
and dainty pink meow tongue
can i entice with milky thighs
slow melodies and careening hips

pierce me
and thrill to my vaporous hiss
show me savage
plunder and swoon
night shade kisses please
and swallow
zebra Oct 2017
i'm choosing different parts of me
i suffer from an excess of reality
a war between ideal and real
id's demons unloosed
trampling super ego
but not without Gods retribution

a self divided by fragments
of loving and loathing
*** and mouth
and the speed of things
accelerating cause and effect

memory
an anorexic history
that feeds on ephemeral visions, metaphors, signs and symbols
and wares it self out counting time
days worked
money made and paid

a ****** possessed
of a fictional self in a run on dream
of passed and future
absent of a present
zebra Dec 2017
im trying to write a PC poem
perhaps something like
im nice looking for a whiteish Jew man
with blue eyes
instead of just a nice looking man
if you don't mind the occasional flatulence
or
air fresheners
as i like to call them
or
write maybe something about broken hearts
and the weather when its raining
as in a stormy life and a rocky relationship
or
how i love the unique symmetry of each and every snow flake
or
i was also thinkin azure skies and verdant fields kinda poetry
or
maybe how i always wanted a bigger ****
so i didn't have to try so hard to impress the ladies
with my personality
which never really works anyway
at least not as much
as a big baloney roll snurkeling down my leg in tight jeans

Its not lost on me that that last idea isn't PC enough to become a published poet
like ive always dreamed
i mean can you name me a laureate who writes about that stuff

see what kinda road blocks i run into
when i write something
i really care about
zebra Feb 2017
in your kitchen
watching you
pretty big eyed
elf girl coquette
toe head
saucy freckles
giggling
pretty bare feet

smiling at me
would you like a
peanut butter cookie you asked
yes please i said
as i watched your lovely fingers
make me another

love at first bite
zebra Jul 2020
people
who believe
in god
have no faith
Belief can not exist with out some element of doubt because it is not fixed i.e. an unconfirmed or magical thought
Belief is not knowing So faith becomes unstable
Why does one cling to god ? To feel safe but if you have faith you do not hold onto anything anymore i.e. What esoteric Christianity refers to as the cloud of unknowing ….fixed in he mystery beyond doubt

The Cloud of Unknowing) is an anonymous work of Christian mysticism written in Middle English in the latter half of the 14th century. The text is a spiritual guide on contemplative prayer in the late Middle Ages. The underlying message of this work suggests that the way to know God is to abandon consideration of God's particular activities and attributes, and be courageous enough to surrender one's mind and ego to the realm of "unknowing", at which point one may begin to glimpse the nature of God.
zebra Jul 2018
it was a dark dance
of an immovable body
as she was taken by the throat,
death, causing stupendous distortions
and entrancements of lunar landscapes
she reeled pirouettes between smothering
and seeing through a miraculous inner eye
deepening her sense of nothingness
as if pickled in a jar,  suspended in
formaldehyde
held buoyant
where there is no reason for anything
moveless in a veiled corridor
inhabiting innerness, a raven fog
her ******* wet with the scent of fear and ***
she fell through the earth
into the infernal arms of
Hades

his tremulous kisses
a thousand glittering eyes
she could see through
zebra Jan 2017
i know you think im joking
but a pervert saved my life
she came to me one day
to **** me with a knife

i said oh no no no don't do it
ill do anything you say
then she said im a perv
and i want your love all day

but to love a perv is icky
your a creepy girl
she made me smell her feet
and dance a spinning  twirl

wow she said you did that well
why don't you stand on your head
look up my dress and say im hot
or for sure you will be dead

i realized she was very odd
and asked her what was wrong
she said i was married forever
and couldn't have his ****

so i went off my rocker
not getting what i needed
but made believe for years
that i was never ever cheated

then one day i snapped
and cried for lust all day
so they called me purvy *****
and tried to keep me away

the more i went with out
the hornier i got
until one day in torment
i loved the smell of rot

i fell in love with filth
and to this very day
i have no scruples at all
ill do anything for a lay

now pull your pants off
and show me your little ****
dam its so cute
ill lick your lolly pop

she used her tongue like a twizzler
it was really fun
and then i realized i was like her
and my life as a perv begun

so if your starved for love
and craving ***** lust
you might as well join the ranks
of pervy folks r us

99% Switch
96% Degrader
94% Rope bunny
93% Dominant
90% Rigger
89% Degradee
88% Sadist
87% Brat tamer
83% Submissive
83% ******
81% *******
79% Master/Mistress
76% Primal (Prey)
74% Primal (Hunter)
74% Experimentalist
73% Brat
62% Non-monogamist
50% Owner
47% Vanilla
43% Slave
42% Daddy/Mommy
38% Exhibitionist
10% Ageplayer
100% Girl/Boy
7% Pet....meow
PHD
zebra Sep 2018
PHD
People ask me why I always write disgusting sexually explicit poetry

well the truth is

after being carted off to the ****** bin repeatedly
for fertilizing eggs at the supermarket
i realized my true calling
was to scream out fuzzy wuzzy in public
as i  fertilized everything insight

i guess i just have an egg fetish
and like babies

i decided to learn everything i could about the subject
so for those who may read my stuff and
find it's flavor not to their taste
like my new poetic extravaganza yet to be published
" if aint painal it aint ****"
please forgive and understand
this is simply the thing I know the most about
and feel obsessively compelled
to share it through my poetry

yes
you guessed it
i'm one of the worlds leading sexperts
and hold a  
PHD
from
Copulation University
in 
INTERNATIONAL CLITERATURE

after years of in depth hands on research
courses in clitanomics, clitologic
social and clitural humanities
the great take away is this

"shove it
where you love it"
livin the dream
zebra Aug 2021
she had to admit
playing dead with
scummed ****
and a mouth full
that also glued her eyelids shut
brought her to ******

a good slap across the mouth made her **** wet

maybe her strewn flogged body
and *** filled with
tampons, butter knives, and mushed chocolate bunnies
would be discovered
by some gawking men
who would of course be horrified
yet feel some inexplicable romantic impulse
towards her

a study in male humiliation

dressed in a nightmarish logic
and broken heels
her eyes glared askance
with a mouth like smudged ketchup
and a note

hello, I'm dead, you can **** me now, no ones looking

common little man
timorous mouse
with a dead end job
your belligerence
belies your self self pity

she wore sunglasses to cover the bruises he inflicted

*****, noose, twine for a proper strangle
and ghastly potions
to inspire the tears and vomiting
in nurturing waves
that always helped the snuffling up
for a sicko *** massacre
with an all you could **** buffet beating
that made her long hair
fly around like a legendary Bollywood dancer

she spit in his face

they just shared a strange shadowy phantasmagoria
with her bare naked
on her knees
*** upturned and swollen
like a piqued daisy
while her hips moved
from side to side
as if weaving a samba
where at his whim she died repeatedly
a humming *** slave
straddled on a the heavy bladed guillotine
while getting backdoored
in a way
that
they both just couldn't live without
The Beauty of Ruin
zebra May 2020
my arms
are getting
to short
to reach
between my legs

please help
zebra May 2017
eyes in the trees
slick brindled bark
like overgrown
muscled animals
every hamlet filled with life
delicate toads
war colors like origami kaleidoscopes
in clutching copulation
secreting their viscous eggs
onto moistened leaves and petals
vines strangling their neighbors
wrestling for sunlight
a million years of combat
ant warrior slaves
breaching a **** of
a herculean tree
harvested in descending labyrinths
for there insatiable queen
royal *****

the forest eats herself
and lives forever
all of nature
a choir of
vibrant doomed blossoms
******* life out of death
like rats in a bag of snakes
glory one moment
damnation the next
a rhythmic limp through hell
with a fly that devils him
zebra Nov 2017
i
dream
of one day
being
pooblished
:0
zebra Aug 2021
i
loVe
thE
wAy
youR
Pork
hoLe
sMells
zebra Jun 2018
when i want inspiration to write poetry
i watch a heaving tempest of kisses
they have a better flavor
than cooking shows

what's prettier than pretty pretty
in pigtails
shaking her delicious
derriere whipped Soufflé?

i'm kissing butter princess
witchy **** 
spread lickity splits
eating her
with a big wide **** eating grin
like an open face dagwood

whats more poetic than that hopeful glaring
of
Adonis's plumper in paradise
filling Cleopatra's slathered meringue?

ga-ga-ga-gag me, daddy
merciless, pa-leazze
fluttered big wet talking eyes
like pools of blue honey
getting it zigged zagged
hard against a redraw mouth
throttling fluted gullet
while eager throat gasps
a symphonic music of the spheres
in relentless staccato chokes
lovin her big devil **** splashing
all gym built wonder-boy
a litter of ****** and tongues
licking pig greedy
rapturous milkshake waterfalls

whimpering
mmmmmm
oooh big daddy
oh my ****** god
pillar of colossus
you Tunisian donut you
pierce me like a spoon
through summer guava


who screams like that eating lunch
but a half ate apricot?

better than a football game
I'd rather take her greek
more fun than math or small talk
preferable to a pat on the back at work
or a ridged procession at a funeral

oh beautiful dark fig
squatting crotch candy
bubbling tapioca ***
queen of
spun sugar **** 
all pyrotechnics
and fluttering sinews

if you asked most
do they watch ****
they'd grow smug like a senator
or punch you in the mouth
outwardly high-minded
refusing the blessing of a
video **** parade
of pirouetting vaginas
and glistening areolas
for the glory
of the secret ******* ceremony

the *** moralists
only good for a secret ******
living their lives
with passions submerged
and nothing to confess
except for guilty offerings
as they wander through dreamland shopping malls
wanting to know
Victorias ***** little secret
seduced
but not caressed
by
a mouthpiece for castrated dreams
*** adult
zebra Jan 2021
a shape of language
for the secrets of the body
for the secrets of the mind
in the flow of matter
physical and etheric
cyber chronicles of ambulated hunger
the cult of the body

spontaneous kinetic orality
to ****
to lick
to consume
to give comfort
to luxuriate  
collapsing into the other
the scent and circus
of heat and breath
we slip away
each other a sanctuary

rhythm as vertical   
deep in the ****
the *** of the *** shape shifting
into a wet mouth with vermillion lips
and long tubular slick throat
till the gag and the gag and the bulging
bloodshot fire red gag

the body a moldable matter
the spirit a flame
in a palpable momentum
the cult of transmutation  
the cult of perceptual alteration.
The pornified vision  
a restoration of the physical
the demise of ritual
in a pathological dimension

the sanctuary of ****
**** and mouth
gods mouth is her mouth
gods *** is her ***
gods **** is her ****
and gods **** ***** all
when we are bent low in prayer

leaning through the braille
of your scattered whispers
i make a house to worship in
a house of blood and flesh
zebra Jul 2016
Post ******

beautiful woman
oh that was sublime

you said
you never
had a man
love your *** like that before

i loved the way
you giggled
and cooed
as i nuzzled your
little dark rose ****
and licked and ******
like a rippling lake
that kisses wading toes

how you looked up
with those eager
bright eyes
your hair flat back
like a picture frame
your gorgeous plush
lips cradling my ****

your head danced
back and forth
like voodoo princess
Ayida
possessed of the
**** ****
lick ****
rhythms
that drive men
to lusts insanity

in the end
somehow
we ended up in another room
blood and ****
stained walls and floors
cries fluttered little curtains

i forced your body like grapes
through a garlic press
so i could drink you down
my mouth stained
my bones dyed the color of your eye pits

you begged
shimmering
nail me to the floorboards
fill my veins with your blood
fling me to the moon
caress my shadow soul
where i'm alone
in the sleep world

and then
came the convulsive
muscular *******
wave upon heaping wave
tsunamis of guttural ecstasy
and for a moment
stasis

our cries echo
sticking to walls
like unsubstantiated specters
that now haunt
in perpetuity

and then there is
obsession
and kisses
and kisses
and kisses

mouthwatering kisses
and we both know
kisses like this should never end
zebra May 2019
my souls a ploughed ground
a chandelier of bones
staring into a night
black star
third eye
a wing with sight
sitting on the knee of lotus
the knee of listening
the knee of your voice
speechless
i move from some inner locomotion
distant from the mind's arson
that old inner argument,
self; a plucked thorn
a burning city dire

i vacillate like a shifting shadow
a feathered ghost
skull of the arcane
and in a split second
find you like a spaceship in the woods.
zebra Oct 2020
wild night videos
for the dark web
3 Atlean men
and a girl

she got it
by a mob
of Moroccan **** rockets
and will pine
for the rest of her days
screaming to the hells
in a reimagined language

the regression to Lilith
**** *******
the world
when hell touched paradise
***** and man handled
shot by shot
mouth to ****** to ****
split and folded
tooth and nail
to drive the ****** tides
of the world

***** monsters like
T Rex
force a ritual infliction
butter meat of dreams
pain sensually
reworked into pleasure
blister-hot and oh so sweet
married to a paradox
like feeling bad
about feeling good

give me your ankles *****
an unveiled immediacy

right off the bat
i got just the girl
confiding in me
so ready to die
like an Aztec princess
to be the star
like a peacock
in an engorged circus
blizzard of jealous snakes
strangled fanged and spewed

a swansong exhibition
in blood-soaked ponytails

a bobbing head
and choke throat ***** picnic table
with mayonnaise wounds
mediating power
in a psychoanalytic fetish

death is not death
but performative submission
her body ransacked
in tooth marks
and red tipped *******

steaming eraser head
pulses
a **** soaked
chicken on a plate
eradicating reality

are you gonna eat that?

pass the ***
collapses time
lust  
custodian
of human archeology

**** piñata
bearing gifts
of squirty pork gasms
******* and cuchifritos
corpus of ****** horror
as liberation
crosses-temporality
and breaks the vessel of time
oow
Nefertiti where are you

a tongue up the ***
sniffs
Prada's Candy Perfume
**** blinking licks
up there where havoc lives
in ******* farm country
zebra Sep 2021
I
take
my
Prophylactic's
everywhere
I
take
my
*****.
-
In some ways I'm finding myself wanting to subvert the sneaky ****** logos of post modernist contagion.
zebra Sep 2016
The way we love
is deep ocean rolling
into the depths
parts unknown
quickened
reanimating
as her hips sway in my mind
to a melodious Adagio
and every day,
when we talk
she unravels
like the threads of a scanty dress
more exposed
our souls held
in a steady grip
caressed at first
like nested fledglings
open mouths begging
blood bells weeping
liquefied
swallowing each others souls
like bears
eat up-leaping salmon
pink tongues
frothy saliva
blood
and runny roe sacks
loves hungry mouth
merciless

a ***** head
a brute
storming her *****
sweet fluttering nightingale
singing the high notes
she opened
like queen snake
pierced to the core
royal lady weeping
lost in heaven
and then cut off
we hang up the phone
left longing
for more words
and
butter kisses,
eating
butter kisses
mixed with
whisper cocktails
a sea of fire
that singe and burn

our love
a flaming pink cloud
puff
brains like cheese melts
mouths like powder fizz
our feet and thighs
flexed and scorched
by lurid desire

and if it gets murky
if the fog blinds us
we hold a tender stretch
of vastness
and endless lighted torches
as the lifeline pulls through
a pulsing chord
Umbilicus
binding hearts
by threads of light and crimson plush
fused by cosmic fires white
hollowing parched sockets
pumping out epiphanies
in beaten silken swords
bursting
full of faith
spines like temple columns
i am free to love her
as trees cradle monarchs
both of us
children of the heavens
she
dark lover yielding
in lustful throngs
as we thrill
in the realm of the senses
like dancing flowers
in sprinkles of dew and light
as love blushes
and shimmers up around us
like rhythms of a thousand kissing eyes
undulating
penetrates sinews and the body electric
like winged Venus
when two souls
love each other
unbreakable
yet obstructed
by oceans and continents
a colossal brood of lands
while beneath
shrug tectonic groans

our love
air and fire
while flesh remains
un-thawed by proximities neglect
panes of ice
waiting
waiting
waiting

zebra Jan 2021
i shot some **** and
wrote 15 poems
smoked some ****, took some acid
and then wrote 10 more finishing up
around 4 am in the mourning

                                          a ***** deed done dirt cheap

cumed like juke box music
playing "tonight's the night"
in a sea of big *** ****** Babylon's
playing dead with psilocybin eyes
looking like spilt eggnog
in some hyper metallic transcendental flash

                                         *** mutant ray gun ****

you're a serial killer in a good way
she muttered
after a long **** of gag and spit
from mouth to ****

                                            gregarious **** pistols

only to send me on my way
after cuming in multiples of various hazardous materials
with a how not to **** pamphlet
written by Bim Bim
along with her reverie
about the origins of the universe
and how black holes are just
future life giant *****

                                       **** poet martyr of the future    

her best friend
the ******* queen with a strangle fetish
slapped me on the wee wee
with a paddle after I filled her midnight madness
with a kiss and a jumbo jar of Vaseline

                                             dial a **** poem

"There's a hidden epidemic of men who are ***** by women.
According to a wide-ranging study, around two-thirds of men who report ****** victimization say their assailant was female"

"I met a man who who was victimized by a woman when he was a child. He is, to this day, afraid to be alone in a room with a woman."
The Cut-Up technique is to writing what collage is to visual art. Its recent use was pioneered by William Burroughs and Brion Gysin, and later David Bowie used it during the 1970s. The basic method is simple — write a piece of work, cut the paper up with scissors, and rearrange the pieces to form new phrases and new meanings.
zebra Aug 2016
the movers the shakers
the doers the bakers
the candle stick
and rocket ship makers

a race of captains
setting course
on circles of pyres
bereft of remorse

parsing madness with words
in reasons on reasons
giving life meaning
against inner treasons

founded on tissue thin
mental accumulations
biases and ticks
and vague assimilations

with subconscious shadows
over Palimpsest traces
we are convinced
we know our places

building the self
on struggling riffs
captains of the dual
navigating ships

occupying armies
assassins lens
horrible secrets
terrible rends

are we not in control
making choices
weighing and calibrating
hearing whos voices

thinking there our own
between good and bad
but outcomes are crazy
dragging mad

do we choose thoughts
from shrunken forms
from rotten gods
in darkest storms

or perhaps possessed
by invisible believers
pulp hearted  creatures
pulling our leavers

that possess our soul
choose for you
what you think
and what you do

emanations from spheres
through our core to our brain
ephemeral forces
a patinaed, puce stained

skyway of cruelty
kamikazes dread goon
gods crossing each other
poxed ash moon

can we stop reflexing
with brazen compulsions
can we stop lying
with wrenched emotions

can we defy the elements
make someone care
transcend all that harms
and bring love to bare

can we shed
all we know
choose to move on
and choose to let go

are we trapped
in space and time
will we not struggle
Sisyphean blind

or are we mere avatars
in a game from x box
acting out our program
like a hunted down fox

we have five senses
to get through the day
with infinitely more
we could smooth out our way

brains like thumb stumps
form violence and hell
hooves of dragons
we buy and sell

what is a puppet
it moves as its pulled
by forces beyond it
is that why we are fooled

are we deluded
that we are the doer's
could we be puppet souls
of gods that are losers
zebra Aug 2021
wetter
than
an
otters
pocket
zebra Nov 2020
Q.309 is the fire of existence pushing to action transforming the ideological Materia in revolutionary spirit.

SHE IS GODS **** AND MOUTH

Q.309 is the confirmation of the enlightening action above the primordial waters found in the structure and in the function of the eye.

BEYOND THE EGO BURNS INEFFABEL APHRODESIA

Q.309 is every union originating from dissimilar things with adulterous spirit.
Our anamnesis nullifies the liturgical and ritual tradition; the attitude in us pushing to the repetition of the ritualistic gesture intended as an offer and as a proof of the memory is amplified by the life itself.

CHAOS AS RITUAL

Q.309 is the radical conflict with the existing world and a new identity to be achieved through a process of identification with the will of the abyss that contains all: through this conflict you become a concupiscent being.

I PUSH HER **** THROUGH HER THROAT

Q.309 is the cult of the slough whose common thread is constituted by the constant sexualization of the human world and of the divine sphere, bringing them closer till the overlap.

A RESIPROCITY OF ******* IN MUTUAL EXCHANGE

Q.309 is the energetic foundation and dynamism typical of the devolutive systems.

HEAD ABOVE THE HEAVENS FEET BELOW THE HELLS

We turn our gaze to the underlying face of the Materia and we consolidate our desire in her; the concupiscence is our vis generandi through which our gnostic process of emanation is activated.

I AM EVERYWHERE WITHIN  HER


The Flesh of God melts with the one who creates him.



[From MEQOM YAD/Assur #1]
zebra Sep 2017
she was queen for a day
brought to you
by
the Red Cross
and
Freezone
to lift off
those painful foot corns
and lets not forget the good folks at
HEET
for those  aching back muscles
strong
yet doesn't burn
and comes with a handy dandy applicator

she could have anything she wanted
all she had to do
was ask for it on
TV
after becoming the winning contestant
for a life more tragic then all the others

the competition was stiff
who would break hearts the most
and get the biggest ovation
for all who came to see the suffering
and move the needle
on the
life ****-o-meter

which lady of endless sorrows
would be the gleeful queen
of white knuckle terrors
the winner
of the race to the bottom
circa 1958

and i was eleven years old

the winner was wrapped
by her very own glittery subjects
in a  plush royal queens cape
and placed upon her crown
a twinkling tiara
then enthroned
and bestowed a bouquet of flowers
from the magnificent
Carl's of Hollywood

she a mottled exhausted woman
withered by life's harrowing cruelties
hollowed by fear and heaping despair
flickered like staccato lighting
on black and white TV
for all of America to see

cause every
dinner cookin
vacuum cleanin
dish washin
bathroom scrubin
dirt sweepin
house wife goddess
of the vacuum cleaner and handy scrub
would flop herself on the couch
with a jin and tonic
put her feet up
hair in curlers
before dinner
and dishes
for the squabbling  brood
and her very own tyrannical
Ralph Cramden
huba huba hubby
king of her cracked castle
and
grab a pack of
Marlboro's.
Pall mall reds
Kent's
or
Chesterfield cigarettes
blow smoke
and watch
QUEEN FOR A DAY

today's
QUEEN FOR A DAY
Miss Clarice Williams
trembling almost to the point of tears
implored humbly for a gurney
so that her fifteen year old son
who was mentally slow and shot in the stomach
could be rolled outside on the porch
and feel the sunlight on his face
for the first time in years

they lavished her
with the Bomgardner Hydro-level cot
for the paralyzed
sure that it would do just the trick
plus
a miniature transistor ham radio
so you could even
hear what there sayin
all the way in Japan
plus
a Teltape tape recorder
and a brand new
automatic laundry machine and dryer
from the nice folks at Westinghouse

but thats not all

a star studded vacation
where the stars stay
at the deluxe knickerbocker hotel
where you can lounge at the pool
or your own royal suite
and have dinner
at the exotic
Polynesia Beach Combers
Wicki Wicki Room
all the way in the land
of the
hoochi coochi
zebra Jan 2021
the lost troglodytes
and their cockeyed deliberations
a case of mistaken identity
and a rattled recalcitrance

radio ears and tv eyes
in a fever of nonsense
which i filed under who gives a *****

We live in a cyborg democracy  
Social media manipulates the weak minded to structure ignorance using weaponized algorithms of deception.
zebra Oct 2017
there we were
me and my girl
Vavavavoom
speeding on a curving dark road

she
silky luscious
falling all over me
like a chinchilla fur

it was a menacing and stormy night
we pulled up
to the dimly neon lighted
Rag **** Paradise Motel
and adjacent diner
the Creepy Pasta Restaurant
that looked like a blinking furnace
where reality doesn't care what happens
and hemorrhages chaos
like a flushing toilet
at the end of the line

a location
that only exists for a few minutes
planted to create an illusion
to nourish self deception
a crime without a criminal
a continuity of the nothing
yet in it
an inevitable unfolding of consequences
like a scream scattered throughout the cosmos

a good place to curl up for the night
a point of departure on a lumpy rolling bed
as we vanished beneath the sheets
Inspired Jean Baudrillard
zebra Jun 2018
it’s a rainy day
and all i can think of is
God watching me disapprovingly
brushing your pink soft feet
against my wet mouth and nostrils
entranced by the smooth curve of your arches

is that spiritual, i wonder
adoring their scent
admiring the cotton fluff
from your socks
white as angels
soft as indigo silk
floating like little puff clouds
on your shapely pinkish toes

your red nails
remind me of ****** daggers
while i bleed troupes of silvered tears upon them

a Christian sacrifice?
or is it
a Satanic Black Arts Ritual
wanting to feel them slit my skin
because i love you so much?

i devote myself
that you may be so kind
as to step carelessly upon my face
like a treading wheel
pushing in my eye sockets and lips
like stones in dirt

i get down on my knees
and prostrate myself
while you place a light of the world cross
around my neck
and carve an incandecent pentagram
on my skull
to sanctify

what shall i do with this
spontaneous impulse of spirits hunger
so ardent

am i dammed
to love so much
red angel?

will you extend your pointed toes towards me
to receive my tremulous lips
and cleansing tears?

i’m ever yours,
killer
queen of love and pain
love adoration ******
zebra Feb 2017
the soul
a collection of
thoughts aptitudes weaknesses biases predilections
a jumble of mind
and what of free will
and what of karma
are there not
fates pleasures and furies
yogas of myriad heavens and hells

we find our selves
a short stay in zombie land
are we not the living dead
have we not the freedoms of the living dead
to suffer innumerable casualties of mind and body
short lived pleasures and repugnant destinies
to be inducted into armies of labor and war
no work no eat
the mantra imperative
even rest exists for exertions sake
to fight with our intimates
or if alone to fight with our selves
about our desolation
divided by the chatter of inner confusion
reality distortions
so pervasive
we drink water from mirages

palimpsests voices
dubbed over lays
voices over voices over voices
a cacophony of whispers
our version of free will
driven by the  impulse
to get get get
and while we
lose lose lose

are we not
manure for an acid soil
destined for head stone city
all the getters
piled high
and buried deep
are we not  dim witted children
of the blind impulse
panicked
reflexive doll mannequins
in a world so muddled
that we only know what we
be LIE ve
zebra Mar 2019
raw lagoon
desires shadow
of tribal waves
mango river spills
a cupped dark bleed of wandering skin
burning lucifer's silver tongue
in a *** slave slow dance
of torrential foot adorations
and road side moans
fapping moist hyperaesthesia

scrummed forehead
and eye bright glued
an immaculate conception
her back a twisting cat
tongue like a curved Sahara
in whirling toothless loops

a feeding pilgrimage
of erudite kisses
drool of her womb
the word made flesh in combustion

a **** swollen lullaby
saints of libido feeding
upon each other
like tangled everglade snakes
boiling in a chain of volcanos

Vulcans lair
heads between knees
a gargoyle of peeled oysters, serpents
and torn mouths
blown from bed to bed
zebra Nov 2018
The write was written
red ice
twice bitten
his soul a black clot

a faucet for a neck
she fell in a crepuscular fold
odor of tincture fuckubus
red mouth
a snarling kiss
a hot hiss chariot
a black bite

her womb spread wide
for a tongue that didn't end
nail polished *******
like torn cherries
soft gauze tourniquet
a slow yield
milk petals and rivulets
a ghastly confection
leaning over like a spilled ***

her gullet a metropolis of jewels
forced throat bound
on a black cross
she sailed on a magic carpet
like a vampires fizz cocktail
a red ice float
of starvation
his mind a dead sky
a pageant of coiled clouds

he held her down
she levitated

they were in love
Vampire
zebra Jan 2021
Eating the chocolate bunny
staring at her own bare wiggly rainbow toes
she sat on the toilet with a red cherry lipstick mouth
humming television jingles about nothing
but ketchup-logged White Castle bacon cheese burgers
and amino acids as she called in imaginary air strikes
on toy cycloptic pigmies who  lived in an aqua blue rubber tub on the bathroom floor by her feet  filled with toilet paper rolls, Vaseline, face cream a folded rubber enema bag and a half empty bottle of Luxardo Cherry so she could take a swig when ever the stars moved her.

She swung her hips, like a ****** as if in the substrate of disco hell
wearing a cheap red party dress only to be forced down on her knees to take it hard and walloped until cross-eyed, frothy mouthed,  and grinning
at brawly tattooed men that stank of whiskey
terrorizing her with titillating thrills
as if her body were their fun house and amusement park
of loopty loops and Ferris wheels

All make believe of course
in that little damp cubby hole fantasy of sweet curves and wet holes marked Venus-dreamscape-come-****-me-land
zebra Sep 2019
religion
a gaudy toxic tapestry
of filthy lies

dogma and tribalism
on parade as
spirituality
zebra Jul 2021
while being a man eater
she preferred
to be eaten
like a ***** bride for a vampyre

cleanse us from all unrighteousness

she liked her ****
bruised as beaten apples
with scorched *******
perforated with the needles
still glimmering in her areolas
oozing small rivulets of blood
as if alters to a weird mythic Jesus

do unto others

she spread her haunches wide
and knelt in supplication
her **** and glistening **** presented
for the scythe and whipping slick ******

let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace

she imagined
her body like a dirigible
exploding in mid air
her hands caressed her lush *****
with rabid fingers
like a woodpecker on amphetamines
girding an unlocked cage
of wet smeared lips

for this is my blood of the covenant

her **** drooled
as if a thousand baby tongues
dripped for a teasing tickling blade
knotty hung ***** and sagging *****
on the way to a glorious ascension

hard is the path to God

her life more dissolute
than *** **** videos
a rich lady languishing
with a growling animal inside her
and gold enough for life
but not too rich to bleed
extravagant tears of flaming petals
while licking devils *****  
and being eaten and ******
from ******* to gut
in a bottomless rusty bathtub
by a pantheon of fiends

come now, let us reason together, shes a horney *****

in her own rem noir dark city
of obsidian dreams
she woke up happy as a jitterbug
and full of grace
her cunty fingers tasted extra ******
and slippery as melted butter

beware

watch out for the boiling red eye
and the hillbilly keep out sign
“God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise”
zebra Aug 2017
i am much younger than i am
my hair is dark and thick
instead of pruned bald
i am lean and meek
feeling hollow
as if weightless

we are at an airport
with no memory of getting there

i had left my hotel room urgently
in a jacket that is not mine

i can't find my Swedish wife
whom i miss like a panicked child
and my Asian wife whom i've never never met before
and know all to well
is angry
and could care less if i got lost forever

i am going home to my parents house
i remember that they are dead
but we had just spoken
there will be soup and Hors d'oeuvre's

they wait for me

on my way
the streets and boulevards are unfamiliar
yet old hat
and no matter how long i walk
i can never find their house
located somewhere in Brooklyn
on Haze street in San Francisco

i have a business
and retain no idea of what i do

i left my cloths somewhere
and i don't know why
in a locality i cant remember
for a reason that doesn't exist

a beautiful woman smiles offers me ***
she is friends with a girlfriend whom i'm committed too
but do not know and never met
i want to cheat with her
but guilty kisses will ruin everything
so i turn away
murdering desire
in an already anchor-less miasma

i remember a past
my life a continuum
of disjointed vagaries
tears well up

i fear myself a figment
a bodiless revenant
stranded in a fog
sparkles and smoke
incandescence and shrouds
a dis-junctured soul
that clutches memories
like braids of dust
living in the eye of nothing
a labyrinth of shades
lighted by the sun of cognizance
a wretched phantom
transparent husk
living a dark fiction
my grave a womb

i am the dead living
Irish Ditty.. One fine day, middle of the night, two dead men got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other.
zebra Jun 2019
"Poetry leads to the same place as all forms of eroticism
to the blending and fusion of separate objects.
It leads us to death, and through death to continuity.
Poetry is eternity; the sun matched with the sea."

Rimbaud
zebra Jun 2020
between the umbilicus of limbo,
and the theater of cruelty
the rational world remains a derelict
void

welcome are hallucinations
abolishing reason
that give meaning
to blood shot
gazing walls
beyond  the limits
of sanity
where madness can not be opposed
in a world
of tug a war aberrations

a lyric breathed voice
shoots through
nerve membranes
while marching
an infantry of
squat shadows
and false memories   
that move like flames 
in a vacant lot
of burning violets

she goes hungry

a snake head
eats its tail
in graves
scattered voice
and speechless tongues

arteries pulse vermillion
naked and wanton
waiting to be pierced
for schitzo's release
in a lyric of dreads desire

a tidal force
lifts a dirigible of hell
in a fountain of blood
while Jesus has a cheeseburger

moonstruck in torn *******
a spreading bride
dissolves hoop-armed
around a formless shadow
hallucinating
her beloved killer
foot stones kiss
….
https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=carl+jung&&view=detail&mid=19CC0D7663DBC03C91B219CC0D7663DBC03C91B2&&FORM=VDRVRV
It is not lost on me that the meaning of much that I write is not well understood. Some say if you have to explain a poem its failed.
Id flip that around and say what of the readers responsibility to be culturally assimilated, familiar with surrealism and the writings of visionaries who constructed and promulgated altered realities some of which great movements of literature and culture are built upon, such as Artaud among many others who inspire the subject of my darkly exotic intersectional writings.
Let it suffice to say then at the very least these poems are streams of conciousness that give expression through the relentlessly imposing or suggestive bizarre mental constructs of the mind unmoored by convention
zebra Jun 2019
hot and close
i **** the moon
in her dusted bell of caves
and notched noir crotch

she got red like a thirsty knife
in flames oval then thin
till the blood candied
into sugar fruit
and I drew strength from her dreams
those teaming gutters of the moon

***** boys with **** and thick with makeup
watch like laughing hyenas
through a winking diorama
of jumbling ***** and kicking feet
in shades of lunar water

oh this compulsive dream
me touching myself
kissing her golden apple ****
tabernacle of liquid jewels
curled split
jam slammed

this haunting mirage of desire
desire; born from having nothing

holding her face
tongue to tears
a lighted loon of sadness
cascades through fingers like bone dust
and i fall into myself

molasse's seep and gather
in a stone sea of wet music

vapor of darkness
mad nag hunger growls
meet me now!
zebra Nov 2019
Feet (Pisces) and death (Pluto) remain central to in born necro romantic impulses at the point of birth for certain souls.
Pisces rules the feet and it is classically speaking placed in the 12th house of loss isolation, slavery and spirit.

prepare for death
arms wide like a big hug
bend down low

a spreading wide ritual of slow submission
to better beg with kisses grotesque
as her jaw juts upwards

glassy eyed pupils posses me

i kiss the curving bottoms
of her tender feet
and lovely beaten skin
wrapped in cotton gauze
to sop the blood
shed like rip tides

puncturing  just to
watch the trembling

​scream my love
like charred dolls
in ribbon red molasses
how tender and desperate
as hemic tears
fall like prayers down
pink tremulous arches

i break you my darling
gashed pierced and scummed
with a vice of knives and strangling wire
till you give way
marrow and brick

my brave girl
in swaddled jack knife stockings
sacrificed
to the shapless groves
in a garland of lust
insane for the  destination
of glistening cocked Pharos

her lust
a moon struck gush
in a wind of spinning
fog and blood
zebra Aug 2018
"roses are red
ice cream is cold
get ******* naked
and do as your told"
:)
author unknown
zebra Feb 2022
You can't talk about love without talking about its absence, deceit, desire and perversions.
Despite Justines intention to live a virtuous and moral life
she repeatedly encounters debauched and depraved individuals who demean her in every sense of the word.

Justine is brutally and incessantly violated, yet always eager and docile with big ******* eyes like portals of magic.
Using lunar rituals and oneiric transmissions she masturbates incessantly in alley doorways while imagining being backdoored in a bathtub of oiled men - and time will not take that away.

A queen of pinups and a scape goat without a safe word
She is held hostage by desire interlocking her with a **** vampire
living in a stone-cold chamber who texted pitiful Instagram posts about beautiful scarification, the pleasures of narcissism and beauty that left her always feeling like her own undertaker.

How does it work to protect yourself from yourself in this bitter city of the mind where silver flies, pocked faces and little worthless pennies in knotted dreams hum into the cells of your mottled brain?
zebra Jan 2017
for some
their sexuality
is intimately tied
to curves and licks of pain
and their own
abject destruction
trussed, ornate
for a brutality
that accentuates
****** lucidity
in the dark caverns
of a perforceive mind
and o so willing body
which
like bruised piano keys
in a triumphant concerto
of ecstasy
aspires
to be played hard
like Rachmaninoff's
beaten ivories
finding immense pleasure
in constant crises
stretched
between the entwined
demand of desire
and the need
for a
a depraved ritual
of exquisite subservience
imposed
by an idyllic master

sweeten the world
my darling
honey machine
industrious slave
bend my beloved
like the weighted ridge pole
are you ready to break
oh princess
of cruel inflictions
that intoxicate
with onerous dark thrills
the sway of your writhe
where pleasure is piqued
by perfect suffering

blood glitter paradise

she beckons
from hells shadowed doorway
enter my love

enter
zebra May 2019
There is a part of us
that isn't quite alive

until hollow-starved lunacy is sated

while showing the bright side
her hidden darkness emerged
when i tricked her into hurting herself

she would say come on trick me, trick me, trick me
and i would tell her
Count Dragool with ****** tube fingers
would take her slow
if she hit her self hard across the mouth
and she would scream to Eden
bash mashley thrash me
i want the men with red tridents
and ding **** tails too
while she watched my eyes
like surveillance drones
as if a great confederation of *****
marched towards her

certainly not painless
but the pain of an addict
who knows all to well the pleasure of the needle
first the little sting and then the great oooow

she is butter on the stove
im the rare drug
a Do Do bird beaking flesh
a cold hard *******

she a yielding intricacy of complications
a bald Rapunzel
feeling under abused till now
with black crow lips and bangled earings
like a long jangling math problem that ends
with a big O

O popping blood berries
like pink flower hysterical *******
shooting bullets from tattooed
hip belted pistols
on a singing red bed

her limbs a yawing stretch
a torn zipper
being yanked up and down
a frenzy of crying blasphemies and raw kisses
dancing the bend over
on knotted knees
incised a writhing dance cha cha

creel of blood
cha cha cha
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