| One Dusk |
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| 12:08am 16/05/2007 |
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Borghest!
Why awaken my mind at this hour?
Approaching is a greater power.
Treading where and why?
Trampling callid flower
and causing the garm'ns to cry
Then I must up and see what is nigh!
Huuste'l!
I fear something arcane!
No abomination will threaten our sane.
For me you live and die?
I will allow you no bane
and leave only husks to dry
Then you must up and challenge what I scry!
Borghest!
This can't be the danger you see!
He will steal you from me!
He is my friend and shared.
A demon that fears what I be
and distrusts us when paired
Then you must up and snare before snared!
Huuste'l!
This can't be what is for us in store!
Did you set your snares and more?
He walked through them and glared!
He is no newbie with feet unsure
and his are years you've never dared
Why are you right whenever I'm scared....?
"Hails Huuste'l! It has been years, and I can feel that this city still hates me."
"Aye, Kab, She does."
"Aye is yeah. She was whispering to you just now. I haven't come for you yet, though."
"She will be relieved. War may be coming to the East, and though Her walls are tall and Her people are strong She still fears."
"You should never have fallen for Her. You do know you woke Her up?"
"Aye."
"Aye is yeah. Some quick business that I'm sure She'll fill you in on, and then I'll be out of Her ass. If war comes I think you'd best stay inside these walls."
Borghest, City of Dusk, did not speak to Huuste'l again that night. |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| Water, here, Flows West to East |
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| 01:14pm 09/05/2007 |
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It was one of those mornings
I was lulled by the falling tide
Such that I don't remember
Which came first: the touch or the reek?
I'd bet on the stench
But I was lulled by the mullet run
Such that it was too late
It was wrapped around my waist
It was already in my brain!
Even then, upon knowing
I still pulled gold through and through and through...
But it must not have been becoming
Plying my wares where brown algea blooms
So I shuffled back
Only safe in the grass
I hurried back
And up the artificial shore
To take a rest
Under shady seagrapes
To dream unrest
Like shrimp under full moons
I was awake after anyone knew
The skies turned from red to blue
After slack water once again grew
There it is again!
What woke me up
No pods of bait in sight
No gulls above in flight
Only that propped lapping...
...and that oily stench!
There it is again!
What tried to fill me up...
So I ran up the slope
Stooping quick to grab my dope
Stooping 'gain to grab my bag
Stooping thrice once in the shower
But it doesn't come off
It doesn't go away
It doesn't care
And it's growing...
...glowing sweet and orange. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Cynoscion Nebulosus |
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| 01:12pm 09/05/2007 |
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Ohhh
Don't you know
A sow bigger than you
was courted here once,
on the flats of the Fort.
But I barely care, baby,
'cause you caught my eye
acting like you didn't want to.
Maybe you wanted to be alone
but when you fled from me
I followed you.
Down the beach,
but you left me dry.
You were slick,
but I saw where
you made your bed.
Quietly I tried
to creep up on you,
to no avail!
I tried to intice you
with the lure of gold,
to no avail!
Now I dance a little jig
trying to get you
in the mood.
C'mon baby!
You know I love you.
Gimme a little kiss,
you snaggle-toothed gator!
And don't fear for me!
Those worms in your flesh
only mature in sharks. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| (rough) Pan Kratos |
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| 01:11pm 09/05/2007 |
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648 is my favorite number,
measured in years Before.
A gift from gods
A challenge for men
A beauty now rediscovered.
Sunset comes fast!
Hurry and finish before the Klimax!
Unless your vice is alternation
and a disallowance of defence.
In which case, you go first.
My pneuma is prime
and we're running out of time...
Dioxippus!
Can you believe?
They challenged you,
then turned on you
when you won.
Why?
Now they've turned your art down again,
some 2,340 years since your defaulting!
While wars continue to take lives.
While youths grow to complacency.
While assholes learn the difficult art of trigger pulling.
But I have felt you, brother,
and I understand your strength.
We still face adversaries
and fight our own personal battles,
but a strong mind isn't all.
This unfinished journey has taken us far,
from apopternizein to gogoplata...
...and next? |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Zanak |
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| 01:09pm 09/05/2007 |
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Frozen…
Now inside another.
Only to be free…
Bondage…
So crushed another.
I don’t need to see…
Zanak!
We must find another.
Stripped of all it be…
Frozen…
There will be no other.
For time-damned is she…
Polyphase!
Ooohhh, Avitron!
What’s this place…
That we’re on?
Ahhhhh!
Calufrax!
Soon, too, gone.
Perceived with parallax,
But won’t last long.
Frozen…
Xanzia!
World destroyer…
Your knees, not mine.
Xanzia!
You time-damned shell…
Now I’ll be just fine.
The crushed remains,
Perfectly aligned.
It will all be _____
Now you see
She can not be.
Know you know
She’ll live no mo’.
Now I’ll be
Once again free.
Now I go
To reach a new Low.
_______!
_______...
All of it?
...______! |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| To Be or Not To Be |
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| 11:30pm 26/09/2006 |
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What will I be?
What will make them scream?
Why do I stress over Halloween?
I could get some fake blood.
Yeah...
Smear on a little mud...
...mmm....nah.
Could be guitarist in a dead band,
they don't call 'em axes for nothing.
Or maybe a rotting frontman
with a mic in my neck and lips all frothing.
Classics are always in, right?
And some people hate the evil clown.
Or a cross-dressing bride
murdered in his/her wedding gown.
Lumberjack missing an arm?
Man-cow from the mad science farm?
Surfer who got friendly with a shark?
Maybe a business man mugged in the park?
I'm just not feeling those,
not even the 5'6" salamander.
Oh snap! It just came to me:
Old school Cobra Commander...
Yes. |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| I'm not lying, I'm settling |
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| 07:37pm 07/09/2006 |
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You saw me come crawling back,
but do you know the waters I've plyed?
You helped me up to my knees
with no knowledge of the lined side.
You brought me to my feet
not catching scent of the Heavens I've denied.
You lead me back to Hell
and ignored how the Gatekeepers sighed!
Do you remember your promise?
"We will learn the virtue of emptiness"
I remember everything from that moment on.
I remember the lack of mirror in your eyes
when that emptiness I took to spawn.
You still look at me
like it's that yesterday.
Now you'll let me be
and I'll gladly dare your fray.
Sometimes
when I drag you out to the groves...or groves...
I notice you dropping your mask
and know that you know I'm too rooted here
in the earth under your high expectations.
I'll help you soar
even though we know you'll still crash.
Sometimes
when I lure another bitch to the dinner table
I notice you trying to steel yourself
and know that you know I'm already drowned
in the waters under your plane of "emptiness".
I'd rather help you drown
and bury you amid the palmetto breaks. |
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Post |
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| Gordy Mused and Fought Himself |
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| 02:32pm 09/06/2006 |
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I danced a jig where the yellow foam churns
I sidelined a line-sider where no fire burns
I burnt some trees and if you please
I will loosen my drag for you
I lost my mind eight years ago a hundred times
I tripped over ropes and I bloodied invisible lines
I quenched the fires of a million liars
I will tighten my fist and think blue |
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Read 1 - Post |
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| Sharp Shore Breaks |
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| 03:43pm 16/04/2006 |
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music: 'The Ravening' - Bal Sagoth
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It's just the crashing of the waves
that keeps me up at night.
Headphones roaring 'Jesus Saves'
as I await the next rising light.
But why this itch under my skin?
Why the urge to dig myself in?
Is it the crashing waves that unsettle me?
Can't find rest even after toke'n a giant dooby....
Why this Hell's refrain?
Why the super-sane?
My limbs, they tremble still.
My mind feels numb with lack of thrill.
It's just the waves...
It's nothing.
I don't think of you anymore. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| 09:29am 11/04/2006 |
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Nails suddenly digging into his hair from above brought Raymux to a quick stop behind the trunk of a thick oak tree. The nails were slender and sharp, hard as bone, and belonged to his wife. Bwuon Sol was perched on her husband's shoulders with legs clasped around his muscled neck and nails digging into his scalp. She was a tri-breed; her father, a full Fae and her mother, two-thirds Nymph and one third human.
Bwuon's features were solidly formed as a Nymph. Soft brown skin, slight and petite, with the tender face and long dark hair that displayed a deep green hue when exposed to direct light. Her eyes, tongue, and nails were her only physical giveaways of her primarily Fae blood. Her eyes being the deepest red, almost black. Her tongue being long and slender with the rough stubs on the edges evolved to absorb large amounts of blood quickly. And her nails grew hard and sharp, perfect for some deserved gutwork, and under them were hidden her deadly surprise.
Raymux froze behind the tree and let hiw wife's delicate nose bring some information his human senses failed to attain.
"There are men in the forest," she whispered. Ray could feel her body quiver slightly as she spoke, and he knew she was doing battle with her blood. "But too many to hunt. Maybe no less than twelve. They stink of leather and metal. And they approach."
Just as she finished the whir of an arrow shot from down-wind caused an abrupt change in the pair's posture as Ray toppled to the ground, managing to shift his wife to his arms and keep her off the ground. She sprang out of those large arms before Ray's bulk had even settled and disappeared into the oak they had been hiding behind. Ray rolled into some thick, thorny bushes hoping to avoid being a further mark.
Another arrow blurred passed ray, overhead from up-wind, and was quickly answered by another shaft from down-wind. The first projectile must have found Raymux by by chance, for it was obvious now that there was some sort of conflict he had walked into. It was tricky business fighting in a forest this thick so near to the Deeps, and it would be tricky reining in his wife if even a minor Fae bloodlust took hold of her. He couldn't move through nature like she could, though, so he decided to make the most of the sharp thorns tearing at his skin. He quietly laid himself down and took a rest.
It took five minutes for a figure to appear in his comfortable field of vision. A man with dirty blonde hair cut short and black leathers arranged in a way that afforded more movement and less full protection. That hair and his blue eyes made his heritage apparent to Raymux; a Westerner. Another man invaded his senses, but he could not place where. He didn't need to wonder for long.
The Westerner spun around an instant too slow and managed to take an arrow directly to his chest. Another man stepped into Ray's view, another man from the West. But this one incited a change in Raymux. The man had pale hair and pale skin, with the grey eyes of a Mazon. He came to stand over the stuck blonde, with no sign of a bow but with a quiver on his hip, and kneeled to place his hand over the bleeding, arrowed wound.
"Your service will be appreciated," the pale man comforted the wounded blonde. Then Raymux felt something that turned his stomach. He could not see, hear, or sense anything certain, but as the pale man knelt over the broken chest Ray could tell the man's soul was being taken from his body. A noise in the brush behind the pale man did not interrupt his harvesting, but as soon as he was finished and the blonde man lay both soul and lifeless he turned to investigate the faint rustles behind him.
Ray knew the trick well, he had seen his wife use it before. The pale man was cautious and obviously probing with all his senses, but he seemed to fall victim to the stigmas from the West. Sense probes were things you were taught as a baby in the East, and avoiding them was something you picked up a year or two later. The man found nothing, until he stepped a little to close to the slender trunk of a young oak.
The pale man began to turn, but Bwuon came out of the tree low, around knee level, and swept up with a surge of speed and weightlessness. The man employed some trick that seemed to make her wince, but her finger nails found his arms and began pumping a paralyzing poison into his blood. the poison began affecting the man quickly as he struggledto remove the small figure from his body. She clung to him from the side, almost on his back, and as he began to loose his legs to the numbness she quickly climbed him the rest of the way and mounted his shoulders. Her sharp teeth found his throat as he collapsed to the ground, alive but unmoving.
Raymux decided to roll over and try and get comfortable. His wife would be drinking and feeding for a short while and would be tired and complacent afterwards. The perfect oppurtunity to get a quick nap in. |
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| No Hope in Sleep |
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| 10:40am 10/04/2006 |
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Amid my troubled sleep
I suddenly found a moment of rest.
But all these wards I keep
keep me from showing my best.
She was on it!
Sometimes her hair was blonde,
and we were rafting a river of no return.
When her hair was dark
we were surrounded by the cicada burn.
She danced across the lethal rapids!
She danced her own dance of seven years!
I bid my troubled sleep
farewell once more but to no avail.
From high mountains I took to leap
and unknown oceans I tried to sail.
She was gone!
I hoped to find her behind every frond,
but only depression did I learn.
I found the husks but heard only a lark,
though I also learned to yearn.
I will dance this bleak cliff edge!
I will dance as one with my fears! |
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| Yar moooma |
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| 08:22pm 09/04/2006 |
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Take a step back,
make a point to mark.
Mar the inside,
make a mark to point.
The way
away from the day
Save it for the passed time.
Take a step up,
make your mark.
And then fuck...
Back again but only for so long
as your blood matters.
I'll come back again too,
but you knew that.
Why no sense?
There's a reason I have no silver chord.
But I can fall of my accord.
There's no reason I can exist,
and my reasons are yet void.
So back the fuck up,
I need space to breath.
I need lace to weave
around your throat.
Smokie smoke.
Take a toke,
hook the big one!
oh yeah! Where did this go?
I sure don't know.
But it got there reeeeeaaaaaal sudden-like. |
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Read 2 - Post |
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| Sequence: Habitat Marsh |
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| 04:27pm 09/10/2004 |
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I felt this coming on
just as you were leaving me.
I had this light turn on
inside my lethal skull...
And I was tracing angles
sight yet unseen.
Imploring degradation
from my false estimations.
There will be no peace here,
there will be no trace of fear,
there will rise a burning sun
as will fall a burning son.
I felt this coming on
before time stood still.
Reckoned all my stances on
the basis of hungers filled...
And I was screaming blasphemies
voice yet unheard.
Trapped where no limits exist
even while your deities still persist.
There will be no bewilderment here,
there will be no more wings to shear,
there will rise a distant red eye,
as will fall those who disbelieve the lie...
Mark my words!
Unbeliveing of the avistic trends.
Harken to my words!
They will bring you to all violent ends... |
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| 01:48am 29/09/2004 |
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Do you sleep soundly to the generated hum?
Or is it to nightmares that you succumb?
After these successful, salty surges
one can either find the courage to pursue true purges,
or a lacking of inspirations.
She called me four times yesterday,
but I am not empty enough to know what to say.
More blood on my hands now, and another night yet dawning...
She deserves something besides the fantasy I am spawning.
Something removed from my current spiritual state.
I feel the need to write as parallax,
so I must end this short.
For next will come words of the callibrax
and then the subliminal voice of the Fort...
No altered perceptions tonight... |
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| Current Brown Borders |
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| 03:26pm 21/08/2004 |
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Even if you tried
you couldn't stop the flow.
Raw chemicals and the smell of shit
will assail us regardless.
It's an outlet for the civil plague.
A yellow foam on twitching, rabid lips...
And I guide the diluted pure
through this inlet of merciless currents.
Single lines grace each side,
unseen forces rise each tide.
What of my psilocin POV?
I am a victor of your damning.
I wade the dirty waters of your soul daily,
and pull my single idea through you.
Sure, your vanity is blinding, to you.
Even when inlets spill out,
you are still full.
Algol is watching
your blooms start.
Hastily.
Don't pull me out,
I can't stop swimming.
My raw chemicals
don't react to yours.
Beaing a god's dream
allows me this comfort in damning. |
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| Bloody Splatters and Joining Forks |
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| 04:07pm 15/06/2004 |
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Is it a salty taste on your lips?
They are crusted, white.
You moved too fast,
and without proper regard.
When the tide starts falling
you'll have to move.
When the Night begins to return
you'll have to leave.
You will move too fast
and your eyes will sting.
I know you don't know
how to navigate here in the dark.
When you bit me last
you tasted the salt, twice over.
Did you glimpse my spirit?
Did you expect?
Without proper regard
I assure you bewilderment.
Slow down and do not expect.
Slow down and read these portents
by the light of bled Saints. |
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Read 4 - Post |
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| '89 Ogres |
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| 04:53pm 10/06/2004 |
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locked jaw comfort
rabies and res-
seeing things anew
vision blurred
eyes clawed
brine and blood in mouth
seeing things blue
truth be told
through locked jaw
and clawed eyes
and phased mind
just trying to cope
sawing flesh
stare into rabid eyes
stare up at blood stained skies
comforted by
dread is in the soul
just another phase
piece of mind
full and lethal |
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| Fort Pierce Vice |
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| 12:52pm 08/06/2004 |
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music: "Nailed to Gold" - Immolation
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Too much imagination,
too many people inside my head.
For a minute of silence,
I would pay.
If only there were someone else's game
I could play.
Tens of billions of thoughts
only half mine;
thoughts scarred and thoughts pure,
and thoughts I can only know
by knowing what I can know.
Too much life,
too many creations
for one failed god.
Well...almost... |
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| Nal A'slin |
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| 10:37am 02/06/2004 |
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music: "Onward to Golgotha" - Incantation
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Following a spiral (of biblical proportions)
I now find myself much too outgoing.
In my dreams I can still see the water flowing,
in my waking I cut throats without knowing.
Stowing my virtue was a mistake.
Throwing my godhood to the winds... |
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| Private Data Stream |
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| 12:50pm 22/05/2004 |
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In some ways, yes,
I am loveless and frustrated.
No one to hold or confide in,
and my spirit is wrongly vacated.
In other ways I love too much
and let my dreams over-run.
During dead, black mornings
all I can think of is sinful fun.
But I turn such energies and yearnings
into mindsets that encourage burnings.
A couple hundred depressed keys
and a few fresh bowls, if you please.
The burning of creations I have no copies of,
and the burning of desires I would express as love...
...of a primal and savage sort.
And the flames grow!
I find myself akin to witches failing trials,
or right-hand's falling much to far.
No more do I try and escape my denials
or attempt to close Gates I can't bar.
My arms are open and my heart is yearning!
There are unresolved matters,
and I still lust for gored splatters,
but I've chilled out a bit.
My dreams of Tyrants persist,
and my thoughts right now consist
of philosophies most will not admit.
An Avist said me I am to be,
paradoxial in the contradictions
and empty in the spiritual.
Extrapolate from what you see,
perfect circles with flawed maledictions
and evidence a priori and empirical.
What terrible goddess would choose...? |
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jesis's journal