1. |
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My love, do you recall the object which we saw,
That fair, sweet, summer morn!
At a turn in the path a foul carcass
On a gravel strewn bed,
Its legs raised in the air, like a lustful woman,
Burning and dripping with poisons,
Displayed in a shameless, nonchalant way
Its belly, swollen with gases.
The sun shone down upon that putrescence,
As if to roast it to a turn,
And to give back a hundredfold to great Nature
The elements she had combined;
And the sky was watching that superb cadaver
Blossom like a flower.
So frightful was the stench that you believed
You'd faint away upon the grass.
The blow-flies were buzzing round that putrid belly,
From which came forth black battalions
Of maggots, which oozed out like a heavy liquid
All along those living tatters.
All this was descending and rising like a wave,
Or poured out with a crackling sound;
One would have said the body, swollen with a vague breath,
Lived by multiplication.
And this world gave forth singular music,
Like running water or the wind,
Or the grain that winnowers with a rhythmic motion
Shake in their winnowing baskets.
The forms disappeared and were no more than a dream,
A sketch that slowly falls
Upon the forgotten canvas, that the artist
Completes from memory alone.
Crouched behind the boulders, an anxious dog
Watched us with angry eye,
Waiting for the moment to take back from the carcass
The morsel he had left.
— And yet you will be like this corruption,
Like this horrible infection,
Star of my eyes, sunlight of my being,
You, my angel and my passion!
Yes! thus will you be, queen of the Graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers,
To molder among the bones of the dead.
Then, O my beauty! say to the worms who will
Devour you with kisses,
That I have kept the form and the divine essence
Of my decomposed love!
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2. |
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sweet Judith
display him well
upon a golden platter
where mighty sword once fell
putrid haze
miasma most high
feast upon his spoiling flesh
flagellation
urinate
on the body
stigmata still fresh
Filthy, critical gaze
honeyed crust of impetigo
Contagious rage
body gives into the vertigo
Fingers twisted in shame
Blessed is the oracle
patience is virtue less, hatred is the motivator (huh)
concubine of loneliness
shatter the chastity
scabbed over purity
picked at, never allowed to heal
taste the melancholia
sordid visions fill my belly
bloated in decomposition
Taste the melancholia
Cauterize the hole you left
Or I’ll do it by myself
Bring me the Baptist
SALOME
Veils swirl
furious is my blade
skin ripples
king with an ugly crown
STILL SUCH A COWARD
draw from the poisoned teat
fevered and yellow
earthy delights
within a dark crevice
Flagellate
Urinate
On the body
Stigmata fresh
Dig fingers into wounds
Tear his shroud, bind him
bound in ecstasy and
made to drink the vomit of god
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3. |
Undulator
03:55
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waited for it to get better
subtle knife tears my insides, away
ivory pedestal,
amphora filled to the brim with blood
vessel hungry
broken on display like a memory
warped reality, of my own making
roots ripped, ripe for the taking
fear
of knowing
your reflection is not you
reveal thyself
wind follows, howling through the chest so hollow
haunt my footsteps
shadow flickers
candle singes my skin
brick by brick, a fortress never-ending
Key scratched ragged throat
unholy reminders
mark your skin
like a brand
the sigils do not define the transformation
shallow breathing
catatonic state
cold porcelain against my face
maggots
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4. |
Failures of the Demiurge
06:05
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a holy war
forged from the depths of the pit
I am death
riding a horse pale
skin brown like barren soil,
glistens beneath angry stars
raze the fields you once ran through
when you were a child
fingers tangled in wheat
now ash, inedible
bane of your people,
the moon looks away
even she’s disgusted
she left you a bastard
suffer me well
hands outstretched
towards tumultuous sky
Fire rains from my belly
married to the most high
I betray him a thousand times
no man can lock me away
no woman will cry at my grave
Painful screeching chorus
cherubs torn asunder
by my dagger of emptiness and longing
I will never know peace
as long as you’re still breathing
I tore the pages from
the book of the dead
put them under my pillow and dreamt
a holy war
forged from the depths of the pit
I am death
riding a horse pale
Skin brown like barren soil, womb ripped, placental
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5. |
Acid, Vinegar
05:34
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cocooned betwixt two paths
in forest divine
darkness follows, a wild dog, poised to bite
renounce all faith
sever your ties
dig two graves
poison survives
flay the innocent
dip your arrow
into the pool
tears of their loved ones
lay waste! make haste!
graveyard dirt still under his fingernails,
Abandoned derelict
cathedral of the heart
corpse flower blooming
screaming mandrake
pruned by the botanist foul
pleasures unyielding
severed at the stalk
bound in ecstacy and
force-fed face down
I saw the shadow of an angel standing behind me
But when I turned to face him,
He looked back in horror
bitter humours, bile black
spew forth sickness
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6. |
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softly she weeps
dressed for her execution
she sits in repose
ready to die
by the hand of absolution
lacrymarial stains on velvet
don’t let them see
the tears you cry alone don’t diminish the sins you keep
poised and attentive
swings the smiling gleaming steel
in the the late winters sunlight
sorrow reveals
the ghosts of heretics
hover silently
the final judgement
she’ll die piously
loved the world with
all her heart
displayed so violently
dressed for her execution
she sits in repose
ready to die
by the hand of absolution
dressed for her execution
in jeweled regalia
and resplendent gown
a veil of gossamer
soon lonely crown
crucifix in hand
she calls his holy name
pleads for retribution
but he never came
deny her pardon
despite her pleas
behind her eyes
blasphemy
behead the zealot
behold the splendor
of freshest blood
spilled from throat so tender
deliver her
from her wicked deeds
it won’t be enough
it’s never enough
cloaked in darkness he comes
forgive me he begs
heavy is the burden of the one who holds the blade
lay me down gently
for my final slumber
oh happy axe
let thy kiss be soft,
and deep,
and quick
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Undulation Seattle, Washington
Behind an oozing velvet curtain stand Undulation, Le Gran Guignol of Cascadia. Through the dappled sunlight of broken rose windows, their ritual begins like a writhing, pulsating wyrm thirsty for innocent blood. Painting a horrid beauty like gallows in a field of flowers, their cacophony blooms into a blurred, surreal vision of melodic blackened death metal. Undulation cometh. ... more
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