a lil bit more old-school "attack poetry" nightmarish stilnoct kind of shit. ~45 min work

FRENZIED INTRUSION INTO THE

PSYCHO-SPIRITUAL BLOODSTREAMS

   a blast of anxiety and panic, a thunderbolt ! i have no control !  

   something intrusive jolts my spiritual neurons and cells...

   waves of hostility vibrate my sensory frame 

   i shake ! i twist ! i howl ! my counter-intelligence fails –

   paranoia usurps the throne as always !

   i empty my bowels and my bladder upon the earth :

   bowels do not care about my spasms and angst !

 the psychological dystonia invades the holiest of privacies,

breaching walls thought of as unbreachable, inviolable

desecrating all the sacred lines and delineations it does without even a thought of mercy – God never thinks; God happens !  

a frenzied intrusion into the psycho-spiritual bloodstreams…

  it is true ! i can no longer mentally differ  

  the parasitic force from myself !

  it festers within and it nests within

  an envenoming psychic vampirism spreading virally

  through my mortal and mental being !

   a bubble of toxic air enters the bloodstream

   as the seal of redemption is stamped on my brow…

   and not by some beautiful angel, but by an ugly little imp !

   spasm and visions from wretched dimensions manifest

   demonic deities peacocking their Satanic plumages

   from beyond the edge of other, foreign, totally unknown dimensions  

   i stand there suddenly, on a mountain !

   the floor shifted beneath my feet, and i stand now

   at the epicenter of it all, Great Abyss !

   a sun occult on the rise  !  i see all now !

   i now truly understand Dostoevsky, finally…

   we share a drink into death,

   torn by spiritual cramps and epileptic seizures,

   the Great Revelation !

i understand the total cosmic irrelevance

of our presence and existence

and how it could crush the human spirit

just the human truly understood it,

and what is more, the total form of loneliness it further implies,

would crush our spirit again and again

if the beaten human, by some feat of miracle,

would have even been able to recuperate from the first blow !

    a confrontation with the true reality of things

   is as inevitable as it is fundamentally eschatological 

   we exist meaningfully

   only insofar as we feel we do...

       i want to die !