Category: Poetry
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RelicsThe burning smell of leavesHe dreams ofHer body stretched outUpon the bed.SamhainCold October.She wears a maskDrunken fucking to the rhythmOf the danceLike a final sacrifice toThe Gods.SheShe is the GodA Goddess inBlack makeupThe spell runningThru us 7 times uponThe moonlit night’sFrozen earth, throneOf graveyard dustThese are the remainsOf what we once called loveEaten by the…
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Quote from a recent article
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“Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth…
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“Not as we are but as we must appear, contractual ghosts of pity; not as we desire life, but as they would have us live, set apart in timeless colloquy. So it is required; so we bear witness, despite ourselves, to what is beyond us, each distant sphere of harmony forever poised, unanswerable. It is…
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This is the best time of the day the dawn The final cleansing breath unsullied yet By acrid fume or death’s cacophony The rank refuse of unchained ambition And pray, deny me not but know me now Your faithful retainer stands resolute To serve his liege Lord without recompense Perchance to fall and perish namelessly…
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Till this very moment, by being the one who shall not fall nor rise, I have stood my ground in the kingdom of desire. No matter how bright the sun is, I seek no shadow. No matter how dark the moon is, I seek no fire. I hold my breath in a place where all…
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Waitin on the resurrection The bartender pours me Another drink A guy who looks Like Jesus walks Into the bar The punch line Gets lost in translation He calls me a cab And then mysteriously Disappears The end ~ R.M. Engelhardt
