BODY & SOUL

24.01.2024

I

The distance between the pain

and the angriest bone of my body

is a single syllable word

hanging in the corner of your eye

there was a time

the rules were of the heart

until the heart ceased to rule

none of us here, not anymore

oh, do not forsake, my darling

the backstreet affair

now that the dirt is all around us

love grows into loath when's gone

as heavier's the head wearing the crown

I would fuck you to death

but it happens to be

I still love myself


II

Half of the truth goes without saying

although there comes a point

a person will be no more

lip-synching

this is the state of things

another case with a loose end

and all I need is a clean blade

where barely buried love lies bleeding

in a bathful brash of my own

clotted blood's everywhere

I guess at least you'll get

the sweetest splatter

don't you dare just to pretend

we're playing hide and seek

I've been feeding the sharks for so long

all of the beautiful faces I found


III

In a bloodshed party

humanity has been cheated

and the guilt upon this world

darkens an ugly void to fill

indeed, this is still

getting more violent

as above, so is below

to shape ourselves

welcome to the wasteland!

it's only our nature

you get what you give

eager to devastate

I can wait, wide awake

for the moment of repent

at a less warm sunset

without lust


IV

Time is a flat line

held by the ill

wrapped up in plastic

the future seems to be ripe

lest we forget

the pleasure left out of reach

I'm already too old to die young

and it's getting late

did I cause you any harm

by falling down?

a soul for sale has no more purpose

once the sake was of the prettiest

every mind has a past of it's own

and the first thing we do is to kill

don't take for granted a tender sin

nor the way of sacrifice


V

These are my back pages

and I never wanted to fix it

rather become a fixation

trauma is a trend nowadays

on body and soul I committed

to the fright break

not always a juggernaut

will be the next of kin

in the interest of accuracy

I'm aware of the damage beneath

casualties and vanquished

tied up with ribbons and laces

I used to love each one of them

under the edge of the knife

as far as conceivable

the wicked turned out to be the weak


VI

The bloodiest thing that ever happened

it's about to take place right now

a rage of evil will only be enough

to obliterate the comfort of the immaculate

as fear arises, the disease prevails

anticipating a spreading disaster

there's so much more to break trough

than a smiley face theory dying down

I don't want anyone else to lie

sickness's the other way around

not just a statistic amid the deviated

in one magnificent wreckage

he's been waiting for this moment

and the very next day we all be sorry

a fallen angel from a barren seed

licking a star


VII

All of us strangers, here we are

staring up at each other

numbed by the scent of our rotten flesh

nothing's so sweet as a nasty orchid

a hollow above is shining so bright

like a spaceship mirroring God

undefeated, it shall not perish

eternity holds human's despair

how far we'd go back to refrain?

still shackled to the armour and the frame

deprived, free will's the real self-deception

only steps away from reaching nowhere

forever lost is the fortune of the unborn

vanished on a flitting glimpse

the day before the future ends

drifting across the border of the atrocious


VIII

In the still of the night

at the time when children pray

she crumbles into my pretty cabinet

but I'm not ready to go to bed yet

future's coming fast

under Harrods's separate sheets

and all I need is

a New Year's Eve resolution

I'm almost dying of perfection

and she's no player's angel

willing to dismantle

every ounce of my good luck

dead at last from the waist down

her careless smile paralyzes me

she won't have to kiss me anymore

nor will I have to forget it all


IX

Once the cheater full of lights

arousing the queen of hearts

my least radiant self

could be easily mistaken

since the day I surrended

to the look alike of the wall

sharpening a remorseful slave

the remains of the man I wanted to be

the way I used to spoil it beforehand

at the mercy of a dull razor

what would have become of her divinity?

without the herald of me

it's a relief not to believe

in a reason to satisfy her nasty needs

love will have it's own compromise

to make it worthwile


X

You're not in love

it's just a nibbled pastime

and only takes a prick of the thumbs

for the unweary to bite the innocent

that's the most common manner

of the least kind of seemliness

our secret is something violent

and sterile at the same time

don't put the blame on me

I'm not looking for salvation anymore

but running out of lovers, my dear

crawling like a beggar

a secretly hinny beast of yours

psycho-martyr

irresistibly attracted

to a dragging no end


XI

I saw a man who wasn't there

uneased as any living thing

he grinned back through the glass

with an annoying grinding of the teeth

waited for me to leave and stayed put

as distant as a translucent past

from where he just gazed through

cold, like my mind is

oh, so many bodies were snatched!

a realm's army of hungry ghosts

for unnecessary I rejected the soul

at the center of it all

now I'm lost in the island of doom

and my name belongs to the shades

another unnoticed investment

haunted by a never ending dream


XII

Reflecting an insidious wish

I devoted myself to the drip

all the way I gave in to the sin

and in return you came, again and again

with a spirit of slumber

at the weakest of it's hour

the only thing I had to do

was to cut you off

naked and face-painted

under the spell of a black moon of my own

the color that I tattooed your lips

from sweating so much

tied to a rope there's an old taboo

feeding everything that scares you

like the worst nightmare we've ever had

nothing compares to the heart


XIII

Ah, how poetry worships the darkness!

and every single shiver it breeds

so auspicious to the emergence of love

amidst the horrendous

a lit match in the room won't ever be enough

while the masterpieces of the giants are falling apart

on the threshold of the house of no nice thoughts

the fate of the pawn always fades away

time can no longer prevent the light

from reaching to tear the unholy apart

nor stealing from a black hole

a rampant blaze, seconds before

with the painful speed and propagation

of a holocaust sacrifice

turning as gloomy as a candle smoke

in one final breath


XIV

When I've already gave up everything to hold on to

a sole picture lingers as the prison of the soul

in search of the security that incarcerates one's hopes

the pledge I'd raise to be released from

these are the drying days

and the paradise has been depraved

as greater the pain the less it oppresses

deep as an empty space filled with despair

untainted is my preachment

in every word I utter

among a string of disposable things

so graceful and broken

ashes to dust I'll grow back

regardless of how

sinking in quicksand

I am the desert


XV

This is the twisted side of the tale

set to be told from an astonishing horizon

at the apex of the midnight sun

softhearted souls doesn't exist anymore

hanging upside down

the book of blood is about to open up

and what may lurk within it

as every monster comes after another

tomorrow could the very last dusk of mankind

I'm the sole spectator of a massive suicidal attempt

with infrared vision scanning

a posthuman desire of annihilation

none of us will survive to see self-made horrors

suffocated ignorance and pro-terror duplicity

sowing thick weeds among the weath

in live flesh the real enemy looks quite like you


XVI

Death is a weapon fired at point blank

the immediate command you must fulfill

deep down there's an itchy urge

slain them all, off course

the headline'll say bloodhand

misspelling the reasons

beneath every homicide's aftermath

lies a shocking mistake to fancy

as fake as everything I see around

fake in comparison to what?

the gruesome facts you read about

not always turn out to be the really scary thing

I'm not a craftman of fiction

neither the fastest writer

I only have a definitive closing line

the killer inside me

XVII

In the bloody twilight of history

a rumor is spreading like fire

the sanctuary has been raped

your beliefs assassinated

now scream as if you mean it!

you're trapped inside a cage

they've got you under control

new order machines with no soul

all they need is one minute of premeditation

to execute you the day before collapse

like random access memories in contempt

pretending dementia

dead man, dead man ruled out

that's' why you were brought out to life

God is a killer

pulling the trigger


XVIII

All I wanted from you was repent

like a missionary, obedient model

but you're still not making any progress

stuck in a powerless repetition

which is the hardest thing you can endure?

besides prosthetics to fuck yourself

the threatening smell of my words!

unpleasant is a raised middle finger

while your ego's full of shame

mine seems to be already starving

as if I was going through

an out of body experience

I'm not a man, dynamite

the ticking bomb of your life

a secret passage of your personal history

personally depleted


XIX

If I don't break the pattern

the pattern will break me

I'm in the wrong side of the glass

and the double keeps crawling behind

a virus of the mind is what favors

the villain I incubated

hidden is everything that turns on your imagination

the shadow that stalks you, my fist on the wall

this is my fall from grace

the gorgeous deceit I deliver

sympathizing is not understanding

and our vices are so strange

what you admire the most about me

is the way I put an ending to you

no one is alive in a sick linearity

trying to fit in what you ultimately hate



XX

They say that justice is served in heaven

while hell seems to be full of unanswered prays

harboring in the vacuum of infinity

the very same guilt that's eating you alive

lamb of God's leftovers you choked with

a self-imposed condition

condemned to the spatiality

especially, the specialty

narcissistically parasitic

dissociated by simulation

humanity is what bothers ourselves

and I'm no longer your victim

so if you kill me now

you're actually killing yourself

let me save you from the pain

killing everyone else


XXI

I promise I'll make you feel a little worse

literally jump out of your skin

the power lies in naming it

with diabolical intentions

abracadabra

the last trick I learned

you can die by suggestion

danger is superstition

abra-cadaver

stripped off the malevolence

only pure sadism prevails

in vain everything is written

this is the final act about to start

a strange stage of inspiration

that rules by compulsion

manipulating your ultimate leap of faith


XXII

The twentieth century manufactured

suitable for survival psychopaths

as much as prominent homosexuals

rock and roll stars

every hero you immortalized

happens to had murders for breakfast

let's go ahead and raise the stakes

signing checks in favor of death

when it's time for retribution

the privilege of all fanaticism is becoming infamous

Hitler would either make you kneel

or squirm in your grave

what's blood if not for this?

each single oath you must obey

otherwise tomorrow there will be more

more of your children with no tomorrow


XXIII

Beware of murderville

and stay cautious in staycation

no girl should walk home alone at night

amidst society beauty's secret agony

before everyone's eyes

someone else's favourite's got to disappear

isn't it the American way of dying?

with no paraphernalia at all

accessories of accomplice paranoia

could unleash the perfect ripple effect

blowing wide open

your last fifteen minutes of fame

at a glance fear freezes forever

falsities of this prone to hysteria world

you're not immortal, immoral

like Hollywood's wealthiest whore


XXIV

You don't have to terminate it

that's what I'm here for

the strategy that usually fits my needs

to kill two birds with one stone

like a precise, mechanical roulette

every periodic risk I took care of

our tremor is like a loaded gun

and I dare you to do it

mystified, you do not consent

not by fear of God

what you fear the most

comes from the encompassing abyss of the future

would you die for me, my love?

I´ll shoot myself with a four-letter word

while your hesitation lingers six feet under

near by the place where the wildest roses never grow


XXV

Let the creep show begin

let the wrong one in

cause everybody loves the puzzles

on any given thirteen

there´'s a mad man out there

digging the same old ground

there's a scattered taste of mud

as the tamed need his vileness

a paradisiacal death is what usually terrifies them

and no good deed should go unpunished

up to this point prayers & sketches can't do any good

not a God damn thing

evil's not a metaphor

mostly people like us

with a sympathetic trend to humanize

axe handle skills



IN PROGRESS..