February 9, 2018 · 6:18 am
Conan
Savage
–
Savage
you Call me
Raised From Primordial Slime
Savage
Because I Won’t Betray my Kind
Savage
Because I Stand Before you Sword & Steel
Savage
Because I Break your Bones For Meal
Savage
Better To Be Beast Than Men
Savage
Look Into the Eyes you Kill
Savage
to Stand Alone Upon the Hill
Savage
Is my Will
#B27321
–
Inspired
By the Art
of #Rubus
Because
#Rubus #Rocks
Filed under Prose
Tagged as #Rubus, #Rubus #Rocks, Alone, Art, B27321, Beast, Betray, Better, Bones, Conan, Discord, Eyes, Freedom, Harbinger, Hill, Inspired, Kill, Kind, Look, Meal, Men, Poetry, Primordial, Primordial Slime, Prison, Prose, Raised, Revolution, Robert E. Howard, Rocks, Savage, Slavery, Slime, Stand, Steel, Sword, Sword & Steel, Will, Won't, 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 6, 2017 · 5:56 am
Spencer Stanhope
Crimson Queen
–
Satan; Adversary,
Lucifer; Morning Star,
but She was Older much Older.
Older Than the Castrating Cult
of the Great Mother;
Cybele,
She Was the Oldest
& Greatest of Gods,
She Was Eros;
Desire,
the Crimson Queen.
& We,
my Family & I
Have Served Her
Since Man
First Crawled From the Wild.
We Who Have Suckled From Her Tit.
Who Have Known Her
As Pandora
& Again
As Eve.
We Were There
When the Walls of Troy Fell
& Again
When We Pierced the White Gods Side.
We Are the Ones
Said to Wear the Mark;
the Mark of Cain;
the Spear
& to This Day
We Are Still Known
As the Sons of the Dragon.
Yes,
Even He
of the Impaling Fist
Served Her;
Her
Blood Red Bliss.
She Who Came to Us
When the Moon Was Swollen,
Swollen With Sin
& Desire
Desire
Like Fire.
a Fire to Sear your Soul
& Strip your Sanity.
Bacchanalian Rites
of the Blackest Kind,
Orgies
of Mutilation & Murder.
She Would Stroll Through
Some Times Stopping
to Touch a Subjects Head.
As Her Worshippers
Offered Up Their Bloody Sacrifices;
Dripping Mangled Manhood.
Blood Wine
Heaped With Herbs
of the Darkest Sort,
Flesh of the Fallen;
Man,
Beast,
or Child;
Was the Feast We Had.
Screams of Agony & Ecstasy
In the Torch Light,
the Scarlet Flames Illuminating
Hellish Flickering Scenes
of Satanic Night.
She Covered In the Blood of the Devout,
Licking Her Fingers
Bouncing About
All Eyes & Thighs,
Tits & Ass.
Tonight I Was to Receive my Birth Right.
Ouroboros; the Snake Circle,
So Driven by Desire
It Eats Its Own Tail;
to Take the Place of my Father,
I the Oldest Surviving Son In an UnBroken Line
Since Life Began.
I to Sit Upon Her Left Side
& He
to Cross Over
& Serve Her In Her Own Land;
Hand Picked Children
In the Image
of Lillith.
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Adversary, Agony, Ass, B27321, Bacchanalian, Bacchanalian Rites, Beast, Began, Birth, Birth Right, Blackest, Bliss, Blood, Blood Red Bliss, Blood Wine, Bloody, Bloody Sacrifices, Bouncing, Cain, Came, Castrating, Castrating Cult, Child, Children, Circle, Covered, Crawled, Crimson, Crimson Queen, Cross, Cross Over, Cult, Cybele, Darkest, Day, Desire, Devout, Discord, Dragon, Dripping, Dripping Mangled Manhood, Driven, Eats, Ecstasy, Eros, Eve, Even, Eyes, Fallen, Family, Father, Feast, Fell, Fingers, Fire, First, Fist, Flames, Flesh, Flickering, Freedom, From, Gods, Great, Great Mother, Greatest, Hand, Hand Picked, Hand Picked Children, Harbinger, Head, Heaped, Hellish, Her, Herbs, Illuminating, Image, Impaling, Impaling Fist, Kind, Known, Land, Left, Licking, Life, Light, Like, Lillith, Line, Lucifer, Man, Mangled, Mangled Manhood, Manhood, Mark, Moon, Morning, Morning Star, Mother, murder, Mutilation, Night, Offered, Older, Oldest, Orgies, Ouroboros, Over, Own, Pandora, Picked, Pierced, Place, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Queen, Receive, Red, Revolution, Right, Rites, Sacrifices, Said, Sanity, Satan, Satanic, Satanic Night, Scarlet, Scarlet Flames, Scenes, Screams, Sear, Served, She, Side, Sin, Since, Sit, Slavery, Snake, Snake Circle, Son, Sons, Sort, Soul, Spear, Spencer Stanhope, Star, Still, Strip, Stroll, Subjects, Suckled, Surviving, Surviving Son, Swollen, Tail, Take, Thighs, Tit, Tits, Tonight, Torch, Torch Light, Touch, Troy, UnBroken, UnBroken Line, Upon, Walls, Wear, When, White, Who, Wild, Wine, Worshippers, Wyrd, Yes
May 20, 2016 · 1:32 pm
Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres
Mercy me
–
a Mad
Tea Party
&
you
Invited me
Oh
you Really
Shouldn’t Have
Cause you
See
the Hatter’s
Kind
of Lame
&
the
Tea
Is Kind
of Tame
Not the
Kind
They Use
To Serve
To me
Where
the Rabbit
Would Be
Packing
&
Alice
Would Be
On Her
Knee’s
&
Mercy
Would Be
the Furthest
Thing
you See
That’s
the Kind
of Party
For me
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as Alice, B27321, Discord, Freedom, Furthest, Harbinger, Hatter, Her, Invited, Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, Kind, Knees, Lame, Mad, Me, Mercy, Mercy me, Oh, Party, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Rabbit, Revolution, Serve, Slavery, Tame, Tea, Tea Party, Where
April 2, 2016 · 6:54 pm
Arthur Rackham
Luck
–
Luck
a Lady
All Ways
Easy
On
the Eyes
Luck
a Lady
As I
Slip
Between
Those Thighs
Luck
a Lady
As I
Listen
To Her
Cries
Luck
a Lady
As Every
One
Else Dies
&
That
Is How
I Fared
How I
Escaped
the Electric
Chair
How I
Dared
With Out
Even
a Care
As She
Rode
By my
Side
She
Of the
45 Caliber
Kind
#B27321
–
Filed under Prose
Tagged as 45, 45 Caliber, Arthur Rackham, B27321, Between, Caliber, Care, Chair, Cries, Dared, Dies, Discord, Easy, Electric, Electric Chair, Escaped, Eyes, Freedom, Harbinger, Her, How, Kind, Lady, Listen, Luck, Poetry, Prison, Prose, Revolution, Rode, She, Side, Slavery, Slip, Thighs
June 19, 2015 · 5:27 pm
Félicien Rops
What Should I Compose
a Story About;
a Loner,
a Woman,
Child,
Dog…
–
How About a Goat,
See; There was a Goat
Walking Down the Street.
Yeah, a Goat
& It Came Up To me
& Asked For a Smoke.
So, I Put One In Its Mouth
& Lit It.
Cause, you Know
Goats
Don’t Have Hands.
Well, If It Did;
That Would be Some Kind
of Freak.
It Stood There Puffing
a Way
& I Must Say
the Most Disconcerting Thing
About the Whole Fray
was Its
Eyes.
I Don’t Know
If you Have Ever Had
a Huge Black Goat
With a Devil’s Pentagram
Branded In Its Fore Head;
Stare At you
With Those Black;
Soul Less
In Humane
Eyes.
Well; If you Have,
Then you Have
a Notion
Of a Very
Startlingly
Filed under Posts
Tagged as About, B27321, Black, Branded, Child, Compose, Devils, Disconcerting, Discord, Dog, Eyes, Félicien Rops, Fore, Fray, Freak, Freedom, Goat, Goats, Hands, Harbinger, Head, Huge, In Humane, Kind, Know, Lit, Loner, Mouth, Must, Notion, Occurrence, Pentagram, Poetry, Prison, Puffing, Revolution, Say, Slavery, Smoke, Soul, Soul Less, Startlingly, Stories, Street, Walking, What, Whole, Woman
