Blasphemous Rites

The masculinist would try to Destroy all He cannot comprehend Just to make this all fit Into his narrowed Restricted terms The poet then At night Would get seriously drunk And cry Without a reason About his unseen loves About the ever hidden Seadaughters And seasons

* The poet is masculinists martyr And curses he makes Upon gods Who created this divided mankind The creators Of masculinists wars

Adam

The perfect man

Would he be only projection

Is he our genetic dream

Or is he real

                                                                " They Come From The Village"

*

  The mysterious people

The mysterious land

Where no one would tell you

What is happening here

Where villagers smell good

But when tourists come

The smell of eventual food

Gets hauntingly

Beautiful

*

Some drink here too much

Some search for something in the grass

And some

Some unseen others

Would play with you

Cheese bananas

Yolk almonds

They all

Are wrong aphrodisiacs

Like a barren skin

On a dump weather

*

The best gift from mankind

To aphrodite

Yes I have a real life

When I go after dusk

To the grocery shop

And make friends for my dogs

*

My dogs howl at all balls

That will walk inside

The grocery shop

Where we make futile dive

*

Where others think that they know

All that is on my mind

Divagating color meanings

From my elastic bands

*

Then they probably would

Anxiously invite me to 

Visit theirs fathers wide lands

With some house and some dogs

*

And young horny bull

And some cows and some rabbits

Some chickens some furs

And some drunken sleepy faggots

*

Belching on the porch steps

That they did not close the gates

And his answer it was closed

So who did make it then

*

And the fast e-connection

When we sit on a bench

And black sabbath election

For my litlle revenge

*

With his own drunked father

Possible damnation

And so his immediate change

Into some rabbits lamentation

*

And their well learned mourn

From mens learned words of whores

You are worm you are wrong

So I said to that worm

*

If I am here with you

On this solid wooden bench

Then you are worm in wrong too

So I will soon leave this place

*

But he was blind and wretched

So I left from there fast

From that solid wooden stench

And that ninth household rags

*

And the small village pinched 

And I got really drunked

And nothing ever changed

And no one have replied

*

That is what I call real life

As every thing is

Nothing but a drunken spy

Nothing but a skin on fitch

*

Nothing but a further lie

Nothing but a face of glitch

Nothing but a dying mind

Dead birds bodies

Rain from heaven

Down there

The sadness of god

But do not cry

You beautiful ravens

The sun will shine

The pearls will be thrown

Agains swines

The slaughter of stupid

Wll continue

And erisian sponge

Will wipe all mess

And the tatooed snake

Will drown

In ganges

* 

Hope you are

An ignorant egoist

Without imagination

To find the rhyme

Contamination

Left without heart to feel

And soulless

You are a monster

That feeds on

Your articulated brothers

Faith

And love

* * *

For your articulated heaven

* *

From above

Human brain is a substance

As subtle as human sex

So we hex ever young

And we spread the t-tex

All messengers failed

All sentiment died

With their untouched winged bodies

And big shiny eyes

And no love remained here

To slice them

In the air

And no other will come

And then they proposed

It was all my time

And they accused me

It was awful

Stained with misery and whines

But they sometimes did like it

Though they speak in a riddle

As they had some good fun

Out there in the middle

So I said to them

What was put on him

He later only reflected

After trying his best

To wander far from the infected

So far so good

If all your heart does not hurt

But if you want to change something

Just say

And I will change myself

And you will secretly obey

Thou make me safe

Thou make me pure

Thou make me pristine

Thou make me strong

Bold and beautiful

I am the strong

I am the pure

I bring the night

The storm and the light

I am the power

You wish to obey

I am your heaven

I am your hell

Beware my will

Shiver in cold thrills

And seal in

The girl the boy

And the touch

The body

And the mind

The soul the source

For this living house

With no living souls

Love bus

And the beautiful

Clouds

And and and

My kisses for you

Retired eden chief

Brought up his nasty fringes

They went on the streets

And played their coo coos wingers

They should close this, coo coo

They said

Coo coo, yeah, they should close this

Louder he wailed

Then they returned to their place

Like the echo

That vanished

In the empty space

Then I found him again

In the piece of wood

Lying on the ground

Near his woody hood

It was dead one this time

I never asked for this

It just happens to sculptures

Time after time

But what ever is now to be found

I ask you

Is he now bound or unbound

They bloom at night

But their seeds are sown

As much in as by

I am your drug

Your kueeng

Your god

Your dream

Possess me

Inject me

Travel with me

Rest in me

And then

Rest In peace

That I never known

Or forgot

Before you came here

I never was

What you expected

But for you

I meet with all

Your expectations

On my face

Rests a sign

The same as on yours

And the rest

Is a living

French baguette

Through the throat

Through the chest

Within the arms

And through the head

After all this time

After all I have done

I think he really loves me

Or else

I am a self deluding monster

That does not know

How fells the stone

Little somethings about my skin

That cleans my silent slate

And thoroughly polishes