3. Hedon
Enter Suicidal Angels;
How hungry we've become;
like animals naked in shame
Fed with the hooves of apocalypse
that galloped down, disordered worlds behind
From word to a word I was led to a word
that spanned over cultures in rage
Crimson masses, sleeped in decadence
holding our tongues to the thirsty sun
So, it the future still open?
Then enter, hornet, from our hive-dark hearts
to draw down the end from within
We need not the horns
that emanate from our warty, haunted bodies
severed and numbered they are
Nihilist, Hedon
the priceless art of their lives
Sorrow is a wing laid atop their heads.
skin deep, we carve our immeasurable sorrow
in the fold of your shivering arms
Hedon,
Your chindren wild
and filled with death
# Jupiter in our unforgiving eves:
a pandemonium of bodies and gold
Eager, as a part of your face
and the sickness attached to your skin (stone)
as the wine-rush,
changing from androgynous wombs
to open free the lid of pain #
Hedon,
rinsed in post-human shadows
a monument scorned by the teeth of time
Stale-faced keeper of secrets,
loaded with implosive fire
the whore that carried the apostle
to the mating point on the graves of giants
We look at you, afraid
to see what we really are.
6. Dissolution Factor Red
Drenched in the perfume of hell
Impasto of burning oils
forming continents on my
outstretched naked body,
erupting
crimson
stains of shame
stains of shame
Limbs that leave their Nests of Red
to spin the reels of pain
Attach the nails and electrodes
and spin the reels again
Retreating hunger running through the years
carries the scorn on skeleton wings
Storm me thou with the sharpened claw
swift hammer nails that pierce the shoulder of
time
Behind the sunset, with movement regained
For there lie shadows even farther from the light
I run, devoid of mation,
devoid of name
attach the nails and electrodes
black moratorium, haven of refuge
...
8. Still Moving Sinews
No-one survives such an attack
and we all stood like monuments
baring the nails in her back
Still moving sinews
in a graceful impression of life
shyly the arms, shyly the breasts
fold fear die
Ten fingers driven
through the heart, through the core
as I stare into those strange, magnetic eyes
and wonder: (for you / me)
are there demons there?
I knew it all the time. The misanthropes
were right to crucify themselves in the
need of a saviour. Still moving sinews
struggle fearsome with a lifeline forlorn,
caught in the nest of the impending dark fate.
Semi-worlds, lifetight lodges
where faces stiffen,
plagued with the frost of disease
Our capsules barely meet
The worms of disorder
like living black numbers
that drip from her pergament skin
Joined in sweet fury
to anoint the decay
fragile and reddened in lifelost array
9. Atom Heart 5
Still alive
all knowing eye
beneath your stream of words
your rapid stream of words
Though none will
ever live to share
the radiant stream
the promised hues
from which your picture fell
Re-seal the components from atom hearts
Revert, non-owner of worlds
As uncommunication becomes the manifest
our alien, architectural skeletons in unison collapse
Death rode these silent caravans
and steered them to the ?(o/a)?im of the world.
Their diaries and withered letters
all devoted to the art of dying
The enterprise, academy
the crafts held in our hands
all devoted to the art of dying
No room to arrange
the final row of masks
drenched in chameleon-ink
for the grand charade
The tongues that burn in you
the slowly altered language
that colonised your heartland
advanced through broken doors
And they still believe in you
They seem to see
so many things
booked in your pestilent eye
Your stale lids, your iris punctured
by tongues licking a lie
The enterprise, wolvenlore
the cursed seed of man
plunged through the tunnels of uncreation
We reach out to move the landmark,
hands seeping down from the chronicles of time
The quill now blunt
the scribe devoured
11. Tongues
Tongues, lost in me
yours be the sharp and the vile
Glide neath my skin
storm through my nerves
I bury the nomad years
hours in the earth
couldn't exorcise these searing, pecking tongues
Immune you say
yet venom strikes in strangest guises
as the viper in our eyes
Tongue, throat, tongue
slayer of the word and stealer of wisdom
A monumental reign of terrors
throats slit up to stain the target
We're food for the hounds of trauma,
prey to the crows of stress
No power left to retrieve my stolen language
filtered through the illiterate fingers of death
Flies
let sickness be poured
from the cupped hands of bedlam
On account of their brightness
I made friends with the word and the moon
went with the tide and left for the sound
of dead instruments thrown out of tune
The red square patterns, dragonrise and
evenclaw
decoying from pandemonic symmetry
Let ring
a dissonant note in the music of the spheres
the streak of promise in the nuclear sky
These whipping black tongues
aching to lick me back to life
to inject their truths within me
