The Conquered Myths of Men

most are afraid to ask
for fear of recieving a serpent
because we live under man's rule~
well even if it were a serpent
they would stone its head~
so we wait until death
and live each night
looking for a hero
who we shave in the mirror
like some mythical lion falling in line~
for no true rebel in power
can last the night~
cause dawn is the serious release from this child's world

The Moments Above The Throne

This persona I project
at its depth
is a wall for sure
and as the fleece
falls on fire
they run and stall
because from carrying
the carrion of man
the stench is one to abhore
and in the sea
a story is passed
proded and pruned
till it's just what (a)t-he-y(z) want
well look
bare not his fate
see not his face
your stairways he carries
your belief in your sins
so bludgeondly batter in
since you were a kid
that this blat is ephemeral
from some angelic rebel
who some how slithered his way to be King.

And He Winks XY

It all falls to the default
male can wink
but over the sinking ship
women and children first
in the life boat
goodbye he screams
and gives a secret wink
to her dead eyes
XY.

Dead Eyes XX

She is closed to me
through vague invitations
clearly the windows
she creates are barred bars
so safley she sits
blatantly singing to her manatee
hidden inside of me
beyond the border of reality
in vainity
these words are for all
dead eyes
XX.

Come Search for The Golden Trees

Fast food
these signs clearly posted
as true carrier of truth and wonder
walks outside
inside the box
that written of sole self
on the walls

and judgement
no meaning
it was sunset so look to sunrise
a blindfold in secure social animal
what is a shaman
who is the baptiser
and who are these two men in radiance
standing beside the holy one

only what you bring
can he see
can he know my need
who has written in this childlike maturity
of only days in bleak moon halves
chasing the sarchastic wisdology
of lower truths
conquering he
ah ha
she forwards the laugh
but cannot live beyond her owners wants and needs
and this leaves me sitting
saying unto me
on your feet son of homo sapien
walk on your lips are molten
and can travel time
to save the future of
the stairway
they said the devil owned.

Scar Tissue

As I touch this wound
the ice is thin
hasn't been cold enough
for long enough


molten devour
and the web of mind
my lips caress the heart
and my tongue lingers half dead
for pleasures that ache
beyond any severe natural diaster
fallen mountain


so to return
this sensationless wound
wielded like an average sharp sword
we all must get by
you mustn't blame me
time
I love you.


In the roman days
you'd be dead
on your knees
before me
sucking life dry


wrestling is just a game today
there are no more gladiators
who fight hell like me
and wish it so
you cannot believe
in this pitch black tent
behold the third of stars
my opaque hand brings back to my sight
from this polluted light
in a quaint archaic understanding
of ingrained mythology
in secrecy an uncanny logicality
to fight for me.

Old Flatop

What is this saying:
the weakness is the strength
and what is my position
in relation to women?

they are all being taken
as I watch in wonder
how the way things work
and children that would be mine
squeak by singing in secret
and meant to be like some Romeo
dead before twenty one

spent casings
in a depth few can know
few dare to reach
or even concieve
the natural truth
only one has ever been allowed
access to believe the pure unbelievable
carried in every particle
a wayward son mythological
prodigal and residual human discourse
rubs off on flesh heaving

and this anger is raw
no one can believe me
especially.

The Way It Is

In this mirror fear
and so many stars
I dance in the night
knowing my meal is secure
there is no doubt here
principality for sure
few will ever know

so who am I you may wonder
and who have I taken under
the ice mid-summer slave
and the passion cut her flesh
for to make me believe
she loved me

well the hawks turn to vultures waiting
for the slaughter
and the child innocent on the pass
reaching side to side
and grasping only dust
returning  to her roost
for a reality clear
and proud as she is exposed
of the life maintained
and the strong mate
who carries the family
untouched

and still to pretend
talking over former lover
so the bubble don't burst
pretense up from the deep
still in the face
horrid motivations
carried in clear majesty
chosen and fear
so many stars ahead
her power is gone
and it is cold in here

Unfinished -- break

Year one daytime conception
Year forty nighttime destruction
serpent's shadow
dense jungle
fast from life

Shaman written cyclic
midground knowledge
darkness meaning sight
zig-zag zip information
debate black center sport

white bearded audio entropy
the basis of immortality
eating flesh drinking blood
works of chief evil spirit
separator of earth and heaven
good and bad

eclipses
little bright star
cradle mother goddess song
population explosion
meticulous eye on astral
pre-industrial civilization
three heavens
one aye you
foot on land
foot on water
rainbow

twenty days pentagram twist
son eye
open
knowing good and assinging insane
four false dawns of destruction before
eddy in eddies behold and see
fifth to come
the fifth into the third upon thirteenth
He is born
the fake falls into reality
the rivers change
where He wept
the tree mature
primate sat

where extension gestation
long awaited
may He come on the eve