dghouls

Shaking Hands With Shiva (poem)

My back grew a
Thick skin
But my heart's
Was tissue thin

Should have started
prepareing then
For the trouble
I'd be getting in

What steps do I take?
Who's shoes am I in?
Which agendas deficate
Soaked in vodka, rum, and gin?

It smells the same
Either way
It rots the brain
Weakens the frame

I can only find...
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Praying with inconsistant hands

I'm singing softly now
From so much screaming
Does the light from my halo
Wash out the features of my demons?

I'd rather say fuck you
To inconsistant ideologies
Than politely smile at the
Concillitory life 'round me

I Pray with bruised knuckles
Pass breath with busted lips
Kneel in humble halleluahs
Full of vinegar and piss

I'd rather be unconnected...
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I See Dead People (essay)

A ghost of a memory can stroke the cerebellum, reach right past the defenses of the skull, and with ephemeral graphiti leave finger prints on the surface of memories.
With this kind of intrusion, how do we heal? Time is not nessisarily the holy water needed to exorscise this spirit, nor is the eradication of passed/past memories even healthy.
I...
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I Folded A Guillatine (poem)

Smells like used nicotine
And fresh desperation.
focus flows like mercury,
fluttering hand hovering foot situation.

A tired heart,
thick blood, thin veins.
Every chamber constricted
ready to pass some blame.

Strong scarred hands
Used to holding situations.
Grasping mist and misconceptions
Hung heavy helpless, at empty salutations.

This papers atomic weight
Greater than it's actual composition.
It's composition more...
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Praying with inconsistant hands

I'm singing softly now
From so much screaming
Does the light from my halo
Wash out the features of my demons?

I'd rather say fuck you
To inconsistant ideologies
Than politely smile at the
Concillitory life 'round me

I Pray with bruised knuckles
Pass breath with busted lips
Kneel in humble halleluahs
Full of vinegar and piss

I'd rather be unconnected...
Read More