This is the new blog...CONFESSION ZERO

KRISTOL METH(OD)

READ THE POEM +/-
O! Behind your mask,
Like the last beat of Taps,
Convulses such somber notes of demise;
The tinted base of your deceit
Heaving death like a burning lamp…

O! Your
manifest shiv enters my chest,
The plunge, nastily skewed, lances bone
And falcons of liquid screech forth my soul
Addressing what I cannot glimpse;
A sweltering certainty
Clearer than the throat of God…

This ache lies beneath all things
With a precision greater than self,
More blinding than the flash of white
phosphorus
Comes
your face and your hatred of living…

O! In this swift and decisive instant
The phantoms rise to greet me!
Unsightly they climb up out the collapsing urn
And I see the spiral of your hideous guise
Laying prostrate, groping with enraged beasts!
Thrashing as one in unbridled foulness,
Pawing at one another while the hand of God
Trembles at seeing such
hopelessness


Copyright © 2007 mrp / thepoetryman

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