Of galaxies & gore

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Archives from July 2016

I found some old poems written when I was 17…. I always had quite the fascination with the macabre. 

Of galaxies….


You leave traces of yourself 
As you drift across this galaxy: 
Gentle footprints in clay,
Gold dust in the wind. 

You swallowed whole the Big Black Hole, 
While taking a dip in the Milky Way. 

I hope you know you’re special -
Extraordinarily so.
______________________________________


In an hourglass of flaxen dust,
In nebulas of cerulean blue,
Eternity lies forever,
Forever always
True.

Where ancient stars explode,
& seed the sky with life,
Eternity enters into epilogue,
Forever
Never die. 

When the Canis Major
heralds winter, 
& hums a minor anthem,
Binary stars waltz in
an interwoven rhythm,
Forever & ever
In love.

(Can I be the pup to your Sirius?)
______________________________________

… & of gore


I’d rather not be loved,
Not at all
If loving me is hard. 

I’d rather you slap me 
Once & for all
than butcher your hands 
For the sake of self-
Control. 

Virgins & saints scare me, 
Those porcelain dolls. 
When love is merely a command, 
Love is nothing at all.
______________________________________


To un-live this life, 
To wipe off my mouth with acetone.
To pull out a side rib,
Prepare the barbecue & bibs.

My everted cage is mangled, 
A heart seizes the chance:
It squirms & scuttles free - 

Good riddance,
I’ve never liked that creature,
honestly. 

Eyes are precious, ripe for harvest. 
A filigree spoon of the king
Shoved under, flung out -
Now purified, bleached white. 

I sell god’s art at the black market,
Defects pay for less.
I burn the cash, & the 
Rejects. 

To un-live this life
To un-live this. 
To un-live. 
____________________________________


Murder me part
Murder me whole 

Swallow my guts
Swallow my soul

I die to you 
As I die to myself

I live for life

Pulverised 

Cold
____________________________________

[The institution]

“Your mirage must be sparkling for you to dwell in our crystal castle. 

As such, we fuel your brain with a clear, shimmery substance called “nothing”. 

We feed you with air, & pay you to guzzle it. 

10 litres funnelled into the brain, 10 years to rear it. 

Once fat & succulent, we chop it up to serve it.

Here is some brain food fresh from the slaughterhouse - 

Bon appétit, open wide you airhead.”
____________________________________


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