BILLOWING PURPLE FIRES

apocalyptic abrasions tear

across earth and sea and sky

crepuscular beast of no moon

reveals and unreveals

ambiguous forms of vapor

from crack and crevice emergant

close-mouthed apparition appears

forever and ever nose-breathing

billowing purple fire

from the great abyss the deadly vortex forms

clouds of rancid breaths breathed

from open mouths breathing hellstorms

exhale insidious tar-storm, mordant flame

red fangs in the brume funereal protrude

beneath shimmering eyes judgemental

consciousness rapidly oxidates

in the immediate surroundings

of this revelatory conflagration

billowing purple fire !

velvet and brimstone !

ever igniparous Holy spirit !

a crown and a wreath

to the lava-throne

where upon

a fire god sits

the true God !

TYRANNIC ERA OF THE IGNIVOMOUS HYDRA

phosphor and fire like wings engulf

optimism's throne

phosphorous fires break out

bleak death, darkness !

the ignivomous hydra attacks

the very reasons of humanity

it exhales the breath of life

from at least seven throats

(i could not dare count them !)

and now the Eucharist of genocide

has been delivered

to all whoreborn children of Gomorrah

glorious, buoyant future

or the dark doom of apocalypse―

i want to speak to whomever could tell !

 

TRIAL BY PUBLIC OPINION

female collaborator,

passionate romantic lover,

despicable and unforgivable traitor

or cringing victim of horrendous war-rape

they know not

shave her head

in a grotesque ceremony

of humiliation

they do

nevertheless

such are the ways of the human,

despicable morally

in group

as she mostly is

* * *

Right after World War II when Europe was liberated from Nazi oppression, women accused of having had sexual or romantic relations with the German enemy were publicly humiliated, often physically beaten and made absolute pariahs demonized recently; as if having made a pact with the Devil himself. A common ritual of degradation in common France at the time was to shave these women bald and then parade them through the streets in sickening debacles of ignominy and public humiliation. However, many of these women were only victims of rape by German hands; not collaborators nor lovers. Many of them were legitimately romantically or erotically engaged with them by own accord, that is true, but many, many innocent women got dragged through this heinous hell of public jury and trial. This hell―an additional mockery and suffering to the already traumatizing sexual assault they had endured...

friday

the absurdity of existence experienced

explodes like a chemical reaction

between two uncomplementary substances :

the universe (its physics and

every layer of its metaphysics)

and the human mind

and its inability to grasp it

 

shakespearean worshyppe

what shall one do when nothing but shame, embarrassment of outcome, morose and tedious bitterness and pessimistic nostalgia fills one's heart-fortress and forces all dreams and aspirations out of there, rendering the court-yard of a once mighty castle a market for impuissance and resentment, rendering the hoof of the king, a sanctity and a shrine once, a horticulture for the insidious bitterness of regret ?

"...AS GRAVE AS THE PASSION OF BRUNHILDA"

 i am weary and my feet hurts

 i am a bundle of soft, imbecille enthusiams

 i beg the earth to take me back, to sever whatever chain holding me here still !

roaches of anxiety creep inside my cranium to dwell and to dream nightmares,
sowing pathological diffidence !  

to me, the world is not a farce but a Hero's playground

and Hero i am not

my existence,
a gravest breach of life
as grave as the passion of Brunhilda !

on terraces of love and light we overlook a reality far down below
which is dark and monstrous

and i feel fright and weakness

 and what is for man, what water is for fish?
 the art and spiritual warfare by which man seeks God!

 and the stubborn retention of the faith, the Holiest faith !

 i stand on my knees

 what can i do but hope ?

"THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES / REVELATIONS OF MARTYRDOOM"

     I

  every culture tries to control nature,
  which is a threat, an existential threat

  this natural fear and immense respect for nature
  is the generator of all our human interactions

  humans love walls

  and moats

  even hedges and fences and lines we love

   a humanity clearly morally incomplete
   in these, God's green acres
   everseek guidance, and understanding, and forgiveness
   and delineation from dangers and threats

 humans vulturous for protection and prosperity
 often bid their luck and hope to the polemics
 of mighty rulers and charismatic charlatans :
 sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse
 
   II

 practice what you preach

leader of the priesthood !

king corrupt ! machiavellian chaos appetite in rampage !

  the council chamber and your ivory throne,
  the splendour with which you appear in public
 
  the suppliant crowd who solicits your attention

  the multitude of letters and petitions
  to which you dictate your falsely endearing answers

  the perpetual hurry of business
  in which you are seemingly involved...
 
   but it is all smoke and mirrors !

   and i refuse to flatter your vanity !

   arrogant, rigid, inexorable vanity !
 
   unforgettable vices moved by unforgivable causes...

    III

    the sword of Damocles fell on necks of the tyrants !

the filth-heads of corrupt priests
are put on spikes sharpened splendorously
by the wrath of innocent children

   the venom-yellow lecterns of slippery axolotl leaders
   overcame with nature's green rust
   and succumbed to natural ruin   
   over the course of a great, eternal silence
   following their usurpations

the material wealth of that priesthood seems a sufficient evidence of their guilt, since it was neither derived from the inheritance of their fathers, nor acquired by the arts of honest industry

the ecclesiastical jurisdiction was rendered venal and rapacious under the leering influence of Satan

by their lasviciousness and luxury, the Christian religion was rendered odious in the eyes of many Gentiles !

the Holy works of exalted men forever carry grace and honor and humility ! and by the same token, the wicked workings of devils and impostors forever carry the cursed marks of Satan !

    hard, as they both are, to wash away...

   IV

i once said that those who neither
rebell against nor are devoted to God
are the worst of the worst of all scum :
i must revaluate this disposition...

i now firmly believe that the worst of all scum
are the agents of malevolence and the carriers of evil
and not the ones who are simply
arrogantly indifferent to it all :

   the wilful corruptors of human potential
   will forever be the true devil-worshippers !

    ...and the witnesses of God labor eternally
    against it in silence and in obscurity

   i think the extent to which solitary sacrifices
   are honestly undertaken
   may measure a human being
   in character and spiritual stature

   and the only thing left for us to pray for
   is the hard-earned acumen, erudition in death,
   and the offering of solace and redemption
   in your spiritual self-extermination !

"BLACK ROTTEN MAGISTRATE"

the signal starts to fade in God's aphelion waste :
an effigy of human beauty smashed by the warhammer !

their shards greased with bony finger-tips of molestation

   a newfound ugliness ever mutiplying !

   its reflections are counted in the millons !

  with the snout of a pig and the arse of a mare,
  and the fell of a boar and the staff of a mage

       welcome the rotten magistrate !

 novellas of molestation-fantasies disguised
 as tomes of scriptural musings

   sardonic homily blasphemous―
   "let the children come unto me" !

  screams of carnal anguish echoed
  from within monasterial rooms,
  thousand-year shrines defiled by hands
  puppeted by very Satan !

  hortatory rapturous screams from the feast―
  episcopal palace in disgrace !

  thyestean banquets perverse
  and a Sadist polemic towards cruelty  
  rule these nights of horror...

   false priest―
   brandisher of the hooked whip
   onto the ravaged body of Christ
    you are !  

   the perfusion of tainted blood
   through tainted vessels you are,
   a strain of viral diabolism !

   Christ at the column, scourged
   you are not ! definitely and absolutely

   you are an argument !

   an argument for torture,
   for incarceration, for spittings and beatings,
   for lapidation and for defenestration !  

  you are an argument for indignant treatment
  of all sorts and kinds―sterilization,
  sexual castration, mutilation, dismemberment...
   punishment in the ways of Babylonia !

   i shall rip the robe of skin off
   this putrid pile of flesh you call
   a body of a vicar of God

   you horripilate the furthest sensor of my soul

   perfidious enemy, king of enemies, impostor dog !

"THE TRUE STORY ABOUT THE PLAY IPHIGÉNIE AS PERFORMED AT VERSAILLES ON AUGUST 18, 1764"

   theatrical procession descendant
   onto a long and verdant avenue
   along which fountains are interspersed
   with small and crafty rustic grottos

imperial balustrades glorify the entablature

  gargoyles carved from marble
  supported by gilt tritons
  cough their venoms from thereup
  to rain across the audience

 brass candelabras
 and silvery azure guéridons sway

 pilasters support the cornice
 wrought in diamond and gold

 the royal troupe of actors
 performed the cursed tragedy of Iphigénie !

  and in an instant, just like that, but in a moment
  they fell dead in spasm and seizure

  for behind the curtain and beyond the stage
  worked altogether concealed,
  altogether corruptive,
  altogether bad-spirited forces a gruelling conspiracy

   an orangerie accursed,
   draped in the purple silks of evil...

"THE MODERN IDEA"

   the modern idea is the era  
   of unconditional self-love and self-acceptance

   and i simply can not imagine a more nihilistic,
   more depressive, more anti-human idea than that !

   without the gold of growth
   we are but filth and pigs― losers

   hedonistic nihilism inflamed
   the young sores of old mother Europa

   the strife to become better became ridiculed,
   lost and abandoned in the absence
   of the power it ultimately fed from

   no more battles

   no more blood

   no more devotion

   no more sacrifice

   just gluttonies, lusts, addictions and the ever excess !

   a life in futile risk without reward !
   a precarious dancing in proximity
   to the steep slopes of the precipice,
   abyss of privation and addiction !

  trapped in Brueghellian hell !

  where life perishes wretchedly  

  submerged into hellmouths,
  left to drown theredown !

   infernal, restless realms...

   a world drowned to death
   in the ephemera of ennui...

   never before
   was boredom
   the bane of man
   until now !