1. #1

    Join Date
    Aug 2011
    Lahore, Pakistan
    Blog Entries

    Androlilith: The Angel (mis)Shaped in the Snow

    “The bagpipes are placed now
    The chapel’s bell blazes and chimes along
    It’s time to work now
    Follow sundown
    It leads to the sanctuary”

    Do not begrudge me
    Just a man in a savage crowd
    Lonesome and hollow

    When twilight swathes the sky
    This dreamy fucker falls down
    So tired and fed up
    Staring at Le Triste Ciel
    Laid down, I sweep the snow with
    Legs and arms
    An angel has been carved
    And all seraphs
    Hide among the clouds
    Catching timid glimpses
    With scrutinizing crow-feather eyes.
    God takes a brief look
    And wonders about human misery
    But soon his attention turned away.

    I am POGO the clown
    Back to life from a world where the departed dwell.
    My life sucks since
    Madame Camilla left me
    Hopeful I stand upon the skeletons
    Burdened with your broken promise.

    She told she’d be back!
    Such a long time elapsed since
    I still wait in the underworld
    But meanwhile…

    An evanescent voice
    Steps from the void
    Bathing me in curses
    My hoarse voice pleaded guilty
    Guilty of buggery, witchcraft and murder

    I desecrated thousands of graves
    Used up human bones
    So much better than ivory in necklaces
    I just do my job
    And on the other side I startle this fucking village
    I hold the upper hand.

    The little children love my jokes
    They love POGO the clown
    They gather near me to salute such a lovely guy.

    I hew the little children softly
    It looks like the bleeding will not stop
    Their knees are the hardest to saw
    Today’s youth drinks a lot of milk.
    Dreadful shouting cast to the night
    The dismembered kid faints now
    Soon his guts shall enwreathe the door
    The rest will be dumped on the streets.
    I love to see the scared faces
    Of parents mourning
    By the graves of their ripped spawns
    Under the cold dew of Sunday Morning
    It makes me feel so lewd.

    Lethargically shocked
    Thinking of you as usual
    Like opiate dream.

    Ashamed and asleep
    Confused and nervous
    Obsessive and sick
    Raped… molested…
    Wishing upon the harassment of the rotted away
    Slicing the children
    Like the king of Huns.

    Why are always coffins there when I write?
    You know,
    The soulless are supposed to be maggot-eaten
    But behold me,
    There is an undead among you all.

    The night and its guiltless blackness
    Has arrived at last.
    The witness of my sins
    All of them were buried under her lunar sight
    She keeps the filthy secrets also underground as well
    Only the Moon sees
    And blames so bad.

    Is there anyone able to breathe this way?
    Enraged by the cherished ones
    Mistreated in childhood
    Taught to be a monster.
    But deep inside, I am an angel
    Frankenstein, Modern Prometheus
    I know it; I know they wait for me in Heaven

    Gory thoughts grind my head
    The pig of my father
    Hung himself with the whipcord.
    He hit mom with that thing.
    But she one day came along with a hammer
    With blood-injected eyes and rage
    Unleashing ill swears
    As the hammer swayed brutally in the air
    Again and again against the misshaped cranium of the pig-man
    Bashing the head, spreading the brains
    Like a doll filled with candies.
    The first Sunday of Lent
    A hideous bloodbath stained the linoleum
    As my raging mom laughed in sign of madness
    Facing and staring the lifeless corpse of my pederast father
    She took a gun hidden somewhere under the bed
    Placed it between her lips
    And stained the wall with her rank brains.
    She was nothing but a filthy whore
    And I was so glad
    Those fuckers were dead
    My dad wouldn’t harass me anymore
    Wouldn’t be his sex toy any fucking more.

    Memories stab,
    I can feel the cold blade
    Sinking in my flesh
    Stirring painfully into my chest
    Avoiding the ribs to pinch the heart
    And cause an internal hemorrhage.

    I feel so wicked and fucked up,
    Nasty, a bag of shit and rotten carcass
    I cannot believe I am writing this sick stuff
    Unutterable things disguised in poetry
    This is not poetry.
    I guess I deserve the Eternal Fire for my writings
    This fetid bunch of blasphemies.

    You look at me; you look at my nocturnal eyes
    A assure it’s hard to believe I am the creator of this
    I am just so normal in life.
    It’s the way I purge demons out of my heart
    It’s the way I keep my soul clean
    The excrements of my soul.
    This is the reason of my perverse literature.

    I won’t pee on my pants again, I promise,
    I swear not to soak the bed, mom,
    Don’t call me I’m a freak, it hurts
    No! Take those scissors off me
    Do not cut me please!
    It is not my fault to be so ugly
    Please mommy!

    She whispered:
    “What kind of hellish spawn
    Brought you to my fucking life?
    Those were her last words she spelled to me,
    That happy day, the day of their death.

    Forgive me my dear Camilla
    I had to do it because you cheated me
    I murdered you, I know
    But I buried you under the roses of Versailles
    For the day of your resurrection
    You’d come to love me again
    But thy soul has earthen it seems.

    I still wait for you
    As my eyes get lost in the immense dawn
    With hope still burning in me.

    I lay down upon the white snow
    Fitting with my skin
    Shaping angels
    For envious archangels enchained to peer down.

    One dreamy night
    A crow posed on my hand
    And told me that Camilla was kidnapped
    By a dark prince who fell in love of her
    Of my graceful Camilla!
    She is locked in the damp and gloomy dungeon of the castle
    Tucked in a forsaken prison
    Like Érszébet Bathory.
    I must rescue her
    With the aid of fauns and empusas.
    Guiding me through the forestry path
    Leaving behind breadcrumbs to find the way back
    Uphill to the Dark Castle
    With the Sun shining in my raven eyes
    Snow starts to melt,
    A long Journey is about to begin.

  2. # ADS
    Circuit advertisement
    Join Date
    Advertising world

Visitors found this page by searching for:

Nobody landed on this page from a search engine, yet!
SEO Blog

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts

Log in

Log in