September 26, 2017 · 4:14 pm
Howard Pyle
Silent Reign
–
Silence
How
It
Reigns
a Rain
of Pain
to Cut
Furrows
In
the Hardest
Heart
the Stain
Of
the Grave
Holding Us
a Part
Putrid Flesh
That
Will Never
Heat
With Love
Again
Coffin Wood
Is Now
your Bed
my Dear
&
my Words
I Fear
you
Will Never
Hear
Just
the EndLess
Wait
to Join
your Side
the Reply
To you
& I
Never Separate
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Again, B27321, Bed, Coffin, Coffin Wood, Cut, Dear, Discord, Endless, EndLess Wait, Fear, Flesh, Freedom, Furrows, Grave, Harbinger, Hardest, Hardest Heart, Hear, Heart, Heat, Holding, How, Howard Pyle, Join, Just, Love, Never, Never Separate, Now, Pain, Part, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Putrid, Putrid Flesh, Rain, Reign, Reigns, Reply, Revolution, Separate, Side, Silence, Silent, Silent Reign, Slavery, Stain, Wait, Will, Wood, Words, Wyrd
September 25, 2017 · 1:55 am
Hans Leu the Elder
Pay Back
–
I First Heard of Him
When He Came Before the Ethics Committee.
During the Trial of Edwin Mercer
Head of the Obama Corp,
For Crimes Against Humanity.
For the Genetic Testing & Research
He Had Conducted On Inmates
of Both Mental Health Facilities & Prisons
or Any One Else He Pleased
Like the Murder & Detainment
of Any One Who Got In His Way;
Families, Lawyers, Judges
He Killed Them All.
I Will Never Forget
How That Nondescript Man
Walked Down That Aisle
& Demanded
In a Booming Voice
I Claim the Oldest Law of Them All,
I Claim the Right of An Eye For An Eye,
Just As This Man Murdered So Many
He Shall Die
Not Coddled In a Cage
but Right Now
Like the Dog He Is.
I am
Pay Back
& Then
the Screaming Began
As the Bones Were Broken
From His Toes On Up
Till Just a Gurgling,
Mewing, Mess Was Left
& Then Just a Stain.
I Would Learn Later
He Was a Master of Disguise
As Well As
His Own Bodies Matter,
He Could Absorb Any Force Directed At Him
Then UnLeash It How & When He Chose.
Abilities Given to Him by the Very Corporation
of the Man He Had Just Killed.
He Was Test Subject
& Now He Was a God
Now you Couldn’t Crack His Skin
or Poison His Wine
Now you Can’t Kill Him
He Just Won’t Die
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Abilities, Absorb, Against, Aisle, B27321, Began, Bodies, Bones, Broken, Cage, Chose, Claim, Coddled, Committee, Conducted, Corp, Corporation, Crack, Crimes, Crimes Against Humanity, Detainment, Die, Directed, Discord, Disguise, Dog, Edwin, Edwin Mercer, Ethics, Ethics Committee, Eye, Facilities, Families, Force, Freedom, From, Genetic, Genetic Testing, Given, God, Gurgling, Hans Leu, Hans Leu the Elder, Harbinger, Head, Health, Heard, How, Humanity, Inmates, Judges, Kill, Killed, Later, Law, Lawyers, Learn, Like, Master, Master of Disguise, Matter, Mental, Mental Health, Mental Health Facilities, Mercer, Mess, Mewing, murder, Murdered, Nondescript, Not, Now, Now.Like, Obama, Obama Corp, Own, Pay Back, Poetry, Poison, Prison, Prisons, Prose, Research, Revolution, Screaming, Shall, Skin, Slavery, Stain, Subject, Test, Test Subject, Testing, the Elder, Till, Toes, Trial, UnLeash, Voice, Well, Wine, Won't, Wyrd
September 13, 2017 · 12:22 am
Waterhouse
Wrong
–
Finder
Don’t Like
No Rhymer
Thinking
Poetic Verse
a Curse
She Hopes
to Hold
my Thoughts
At Bay
to Slay
the Singing
Song
That Is
my Pen
Wrong
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as B27321, Bay, Curse, Discord, Finder, Freedom, Harbinger, Hold, Like, Pen, Poetic, Poetic Verse, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Revolution, Rhymer, Singing, Singing Song, Slavery, Slay, Song, Thoughts, Verse, Waterhouse, Wrong, Wyrd
September 10, 2017 · 5:44 pm
Charles-Michel Geoffroy
Any Thing
–
you
Can be
What Ever
you Wish
With me
Any Thing
In This
EndLess
Stream
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as 15, 15 Words, Any Thing, B27321, Charles-Michel Geoffroy, Discord, Endless, Freedom, Harbinger, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Revolution, Slavery, Stream, What Ever, Wish, Words, Wyrd
August 15, 2017 · 1:45 am
Henry Fuseli
First Timer
–
My Worst One Nighter
Followed me Down the Line of my Life.
When I First Fell Down That Well;
Old Was I Having Spent Most of Life In the Pen.
She Was a Present All Willow & Wine,
Fluid In Motion & What a Slick Grip.
a Real Home Coming In True Gangster Land Style
the Party Lasting Well Into Night.
me & Her Going At It Not Caring the Sight.
Stabbing & Stabbing With my Long Knife.
Dripping & Spent Then Into Her Mouth
a Grin Full of Sin & Back To the Mill.
Tired Was I After We Toweled & Dried.
Getting Into Bed I Thought This the Best It Ever Been.
It Was All So UnTrue As They Crept In my Room.
To Silence the Things Never Mouthed But I Knew.
Shoot Us They Did As I Used Her To Defend,
Bullets Cutting Through Her Turning Living Flesh To Dead.
Her Eyes Wide In Surprise As They Dripped Down my Thigh.
Night After Night That Is What I See
Endlessly Reminding That the Chunks Were a She.
An Ash Tray Was All I Could Find As I Used Her To Hide.
Kill Them I Did Again & Again
But Never Was I In Time.
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Ash, Ash Tray, B27321, Bed, Best, Dead, Discord, Find, First Timer, Freedom, Gangster, Gangster Land, Grip, Harbinger, Henry Fuseli, Kill, Life, Long Knife, Never, Night, Nighter, One, One Nighter, Party, Pen, Poetry, Present, Prison, Prose, Revolution, Room, Silence, Sin, Slavery, Slick, Slick Grip, Style, Surprise, Time, Toweled, Tray, True, True Gangster Land Style, Well, Willow, Wine, Worst, Worst One Nighter, Wyrd
June 27, 2017 · 4:40 pm
Howard Pyle
Rusty Cage
–
I Was Attending Worden Alternative School
When the Grunge Scene Hit Full Swing.
Still Jamming to the Misfits & Glenn;
to Seasons …
& Cliff & the Anger At His Loss; Justice …
So Cobain & Chains & Even Garden Were No Maiden;
They Didn’t Even Make my List
Except For a Few Hits.
Just, the Echo of the Seattle Drug Scene;
the Cold Dirty Streets,
the Need,
I Too Have Known the Grip of Addiction,
the Bottle,
the Pill,
the Needle,
the Knife;
But my Oldest Friend
She Be Suicide.
She Came To me In a Darkened Room
While I Attended That Fucked Up School
Whispering In my Ear
Come With me
With Out a Care.
Contemplating What He Did Do,
the Marks On my Hide
Earned me Juvie Time
Not the Big House Yet
That Was Next.
It Was the Epiphany
That Life Had No Place For me.
She Did Not Lie.
Like Starving Rats In a Trap
How we Climb,
the Filthy, Clawing,
Beast That Is Man.
Some Say It Is Cowardice,
But Is It Not
the Biggest Leap of Faith
a Man May Make
to Flee His Rusty Cage
& Soar Free.
I Do Not Know
Nor Have Any Returned.
–
In Parting
I Will Close This
With a Piece I Wrote
Concerning the Death
of Robert E. Howard.
–
How can
we Fathom
another
Mans
Soul
or what
Brought
Him
to that
Door
To Live
the Endless
Dream
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Addiction, Alternative, Alternative School, B27321, Big, Big House, Bottle, Cage, Chains, Chris Cornell, Cliff, Cobain, Cowardice, Darkened, Death, Discord, Dream, Drug, Drug Scene, Endless, Endless Dream, Epiphany, Fathom, Freedom, Garden, Glenn, Grip of Addiction, Grunge, Grunge Scene, Harbinger, House, Howard Pyle, In a Darkened Room, Justice, Juvie, Juvie Time, Knife, Maiden, Misfits, Needle, Pill, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Refined, Revolution, Robert E. Howard, Room, Rusty, Rusty Cage, Scene, School, Seasons, Seattle, Seattle Refined, Slavery, Soul, Suicide, Time, Worden, Worden Alternative School, Wyrd
June 2, 2017 · 5:25 pm
Henryk Siemiradzki
Masks
to Hide
the Marks
On Our
Heart
Filed under Posts
Tagged as B27321, Discord, Freedom, Harbinger, Heart, Henryk Siemiradzki, Hide, Marks, Masks, Poetry, Prison, Revolution, Slavery, Wyrd
April 29, 2017 · 10:26 am
Henry Fuseli
Ravioli Knights
–
Infidelity
a Broken Ring,
a Vow
That Means
Nothing Now,
Lies
Like Spread Thighs;
Cottage Cheese For Seasoning.
True
That Should Have Been
Like Glue,
Not
Like Rot
Seven Seasons Dead.
In This Room
I Have Been Held
For the Murders of you
I Thought a Friend
& the Mob Who
Bought It
Trying For my Head.
Just me you See
With a Canned Good
Against you
& Three.
the Misery I With Stood
2 To the Chest
& One Beside the Eye.
Yes,
the 45 Caliber Kind.
to Drain & Die
On This Kitchen Floor
Was Not What I Was Made For.
If I Was to Die
It Was to Be In Battle Sweet
or Between the Legs
of a Lady Riding High.
Not Treachery
Both Foul & Deep.
Luring me With Sex & Song
to the Valley of Sleep;
Having Done
I Went For a Bottle of Beer
& Surprise Who Should I Meet
But 3 Long Shadows
Waiting There For me.
Flash,
Flash,
Flash,
Down I Was InDeed,
Blood Red Agony,
Not a Breath to Breathe,
Pain Bright Dizzying.
Laying There Wondering
If This Was the End For me,
the Vest Had Not Held
& Crimson Was Blossoming.
They Left to Check & See,
To Get the Stuff to Dismantle me.
In the Tub to Bleed
& Then the Cutting;
No, No,
Not For me
As I Slipped Ravioli In a Sock.
First,
I Came to Crush your Skull
my Lovely Little Girl.
Then the Man
Who Came to Gut me Like a Pig
& Then the 2
to Help Move.
It Was Such a Gristly Scene,
Had to Be Burning.
I Will Never Forget
That Night.
Standing Above
Those Broken Things
Screaming Triumphantly
As the Kerosene Burned Bright,
Ravioli Nights
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as 2, 3 Long, 45, 45 Caliber, Above, Agony, Battle, Battle Sweet, Been, Beer, Beside, Between, Bleed, Blood, Blood Red Agony, Blossoming, Both, Bottle, Bottle of Beer, Bought, Bought It, Breath, Breathe, Bright, Broken, Broken Ring, Broken Things, Burned, Burned Bright, Burning, Caliber, Came, Canned, Canned Good, Check, Cheese, Chest, Cottage, Cottage Cheese, Crimson, Crush, Cutting, Dead, Deep, Die, Dismantle, Dizzying, Done, Down, Drain, End, Eye, First, Flash, Floor, ForGet, Foul, Friend, Get, Glue, Good, Gristly, Gristly Scene, Gut, Had, Head, Held, Help, Henry Fuseli, High, InDeed, Infidelity, It, Kerosene, Kind, Kitchen, Kitchen Floor, Knights, Lady, Laying, Left, Legs, Lies, Like, Little Girl, Long Shadows, Lovely, Lovely Little Girl, Luring, Made, Man, Means, Meet, Misery, Mob, Move, Murders, Never, Night, Nights, No, Not, Nothing, Now, One, Pain, Pain Bright Dizzying, Pig, Prose, Ravioli, Ravioli Knights, Ravioli Nights, Red, Riding, Riding High, Ring, Room, Rot, Scene, Screaming, Screaming Triumphantly, Seasoning, Seasons, See, Seven, Seven Seasons, Seven Seasons Dead, Sex, Shadows, Should, Skull, Sleep, Slipped, Sock, Song, Spread, Spread Thighs, Standing, Stood, Stuff, Such, Surprise, Sweet, There, They, Thighs, Things, Those, Those Broken, Those Broken Things, Thought, Three, Treachery, Triumphantly, True, Trying, Tub, Valley, Valley of Sleep, Vest, Vow, Waiting, Went, Who, Will, With, With Stood, Wondering, Yes
April 24, 2017 · 6:49 am
The Pilgrim’s Progress
Adversary of Man
–
you Ask
What
the Devil
Means
to me
Why
He Is
me
& I
be He
Since
I First
Felt
Want
or Desire
All Those
Things
That Make
me Less
Than
I Could
be
the Adversary
of Man
I am
the Second
Side
of my
Hand
the Loss
of Hope
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Adversary, Adversary of Man, Ask, B27321, Desire, Devil, Discord, Felt, First, Freedom, Hand, Harbinger, Hope, Less, Loss, Make, Man, Means, Pilgrim, Poetry, Prison, Progress, Prose, Revolution, second, Side, Since, Slavery, The Pilgrim's Progress, Want, What, Why, Wyrd
