Poetry & Art

Nothing. Do you ever see it? I see it everyday. How empty this world and its pleasures. How fleeting its riches, how barren its comforts; how vanished its securities.
Nothing. Do you ever pursue it? I follow after it everyday. How disappointing when caught, when you remember it’s vapor. How sad it’s reward – more aptly named lost.
Nothing. Do you ever feel it? I feel it everyday. How hardened my heart, how gone my emotions. How the voice of my Beloved has lost its beloved place in my soul.
Nothing. Do you ever become it? I am nothing everyday. How less I am than a worm; worthless, rebellious dust. How little are my lamentations esteemed before the just.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Days pass all the same, it’s like I’m in a maze, things don’t ever change.
With every pill and every conversation, it always leads me to my imagination.
Discerning reality from fiction, should I obey orders without resistance?
Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months. Is there really a difference…

Hiding from everyone, fearing their actions, leaving me petrified.
Covering it with a laugh, living in an endless mansion, making me stupefied.
Walking down the pathway, with meaningful portraits, memories of a life long forgotten.
It’s there, an abyss of nothingness. “Go on, venture into the unknown.” It will console.
Many others have walked this path, some go with a laugh, others void.
It’s your turn.

I take a step, hesitant. Hands clenched, it’s compelling. Enticing.
Another step, there are no memories flashing. I look back to the room I’ve spent my days in, to where there’s lighting.
A hand extends from a faceless entity, could it be representing what’s left of my humanity?
Silly goose, it’s too late. All there was, and will ever be, is pain.
I stride forward, with a confident gait. The last action of my own volition, let it be without hesitation.

It sucks me in, enveloping me in a calming way. Voices fill my head, lulling me away.
A pang of sadness buds, blossoming in my chest. What is it, that I regret?
There was a person, that held me back. But sadly, I can’t discern lies from facts.
A masterpiece, that I was blessed to have met.

Memories fade, there’s no point reminiscing. I wait. Closing my eyes, wishing for peace.
Like others before me, forgive me for being weak. I’ve tried, and it hurt, countless days laying inert.
Violence and tragedy, forging loose memories. Slashing and ripping, I no longer want to be needing.

Opening my eyes, is this what I really want? But I really don’t want to go back to the hunt.
My fate is sealed, like a missive being issued. No point thinking, you don’t have a high IQ.
Wetness on my cheeks, I smile. So this is what it feels like, to be gone.

penetrated

the seeping carcass uncoagulated leaks a guilty mother’s tears

she supervised the wound and dressed it with alchemists dreams

non believing a golden retrieving

in the light of death it looks like lead.

tearing the wound, a universe of indignity,

a sharp phallus years in the reckoning

intestines twisting in the father’s fist

the loving hand shakes with indignant  malignance,

kisses on the crown for the slave to his denial and love

in the light of death it looks like hate.

ravished by rage, smashed against a wall, place your delicate baby back into its crib

whisper into its ear,

i fed you,

but you were never anything to me

i played with you,

in more ways than you will ever know

i clothed you after i took them off, 

and look, the cloth is made of gold.