Squire to the Stars

We created evil kings

in the corporate degree

kingdom and profit

beyond measure

sun never sat

on one Empire

but an ether

Oh an ether

particle wave

comes and goes

wherever it does

one king rises ready

a lamb to the slaughter

to accept charge

their machinations

profit and strife

(it is a morah)

Sold at wholesale

time is money

scarce is pricy

pluck this goose

make it spicy

one king falls

back into the ether

one king rises

and another and another and another and another

corporate finances

Profit above all

human beings

hail caesar

cut their head

hail caesar

here again

what a fucking magic trick

Kindling or a spark?

 It has been a long time since I've sat down to write, chaos, trauma, and the everlasting run from one place to another all in hopes to outpace reality. Nothing though, can truly stop you from finding yourself, after all wherever you go/are well—there you are. It has been a difficult start to be as straightforward as possible. My mind, rendered, I cannot make amends with my own sense of survival. Thus I fear I overreact but frankly it hasn't failed me so far. Oh the wicked though, how irrational and reactive. Egos are fragile things, to be shattered by the light of another is poor judgement of your self, a denial of our own godhead. Not my problem, but above all don't make it my problem, I tend to deal with those. Don't we all just get along so much faster if we help one another? Habits are hard to break though, life has not been as kind to some and after all our best can only be attained through some sort of trial by fire, but we can't be kindle all of our lives. Be it coal to slowly burn and warm the hearth or a spark to set a blaze and start the fire, we must make a choice at one point. I think that is something we all must do, is to choose how we will react. Some choose anger, hatred, and physical harm; these are all valid as some individuals do need to be handled with a spear and net, but ultimately from my part that only happens when the beast roars. Or we can use our minds and actually internalize, analyze, and choose a best course of action and not just reaction. When we come to terms with our choices and their respective outcomes, we can make sure that our judgements are well informed and to the best of your and the groups wellbeing. That last part there is key though, because if there's something any of us can truly do is think beyond the immediate and into our future. The tide raises all boats and all that. Sadly we live in this world, and this is just a fable.

Monsters

You spend years hoping for someone to love, and there are those just waiting for you out there, people who hide the fangs and sharp talons in their skin bag garbs. Those people, some would call them people, are the true monsters that hide under your bed, behind the curtains, in the dark corners. They await a chance to sink their teeth in, to rip you apart, because they don't know better. Animals, they are no better than animals. All they know is pain and carnal pleasure, it is all they seek. This planet just happens to be inundated by them right now, they are all over. It is hard to imagine a world free of them, it is impossible. They are what nightmares are made of, they are the creatures that you have feared your entire childhood, the true inspirations for the vampire and werewolf, they are sociopathic, killers, and would eat you whole if given the chance.

So don't give them the chance, don't allow them in. Who are they? How can you tell? I pray you tell, for I cannot show you the way, I have only just started to realise the dangerous beings that roam in the darkness, seen their eyes, felt their teeth, lost a limb or two to them. I am just here to warn you, beware.

I Am Forgotten Emotions.

A sacrifice in the park

to the pigs with their guns

searching boys in the dark, I beg forgiveness for you—

you are sent home;

meanwhile, I am jailed over and over,

spending a night of Police harassment with a head full of acid,

each time you slide your access card

to the places where you

wouldn’t be allowed in otherwise.

I am your forgotten emotions.

Now you, that first lover,

I am the pain in your heart—

those scars left behind from a series of kisses,

a gentle touch, the words I love you are

over and over, carved inside its walls

reminding you of the sacrifice we made

in order to keep your youthful allowances,

each day I wonder, was it worth it?

I am our forgotten emotions.

I carry the numb places in your memory

where once shone the abscesses of childhood trauma

which removed and dissected for you

keeping you sane through hell and back,

are then swallowed and absorbed in this psychic

vessel, burrowed to purify deep inside.

I am your forgotten emotions, watch them as we bloom.

I’m here to remind you,

you, the one with the pedigree,

that I remember how you walked up to the bar

during our friends birthday party, you were dressed

like the beautiful whore we all know you are,

flirted with me, then said “Gosh, I’m mean!” giggling to yourself,

walking away laughing, I was a joke to you,

but I never laughed—

when your story was something to listen to,

when my shoulder was all I had to offer you,

and your broken heart was all I meant to mend.

I am your forgotten emultion.

I am the nexus of abhorrence, your loathing,

something to talk about over a beer—

another one of the horrible people,

keeping your friendships glued together,

kindling for your hatred,

when you can’t talk shit about one another

in fear that in turn each will know the truth,

you, with the faces like revolving doors.

This is for you.

To each and every one of you—

I am the louse in the corner,

the weirdo in black,

the one you’ve all turned to when no one would listen!

Look here, don’t advert your eyes,

I am here to remind you

that once your emotions were real,

not make believe, nor shadows of their former selves.

I am the luxury of forgetting

passed around a table

full of empty rotating faces

all stuck drinking from bottomless places.

but now I am no more for you or any of them,

you’ll have to face the truth of each other,

Adieu.

I am a Black Star

I was born the day you died,
thirty one years ago—
I was reborn when you died,
yesterday mourning.
It all started eighteen months ago:
our slow death.

I Bow to you, master smith of universes,
Mighty Goblin Disco King.
You pass the torch on to the world
waiting for the next Black Star to shine,
we are many, a legion of your children
all awoken by the changes in your persona
arranged movements of your beauty
all spoken, sung, made into discourse
of falling walls, bullies pushing,
drugged out evenings, dancing china queens.

I breathe, because I once saw the light which took you,
it said that it would be hard
it said it would be difficult
yet I know it was love which spoke to me,
it was love you went towards,
it is where we all go,
Us, Black Stars.

Escape!

What will you do?
What will you say?
How many videos will you share?
Only time will tell, won't it?
Only time will show me
just how desperate you people are
you Dwarf, you Witch,
you Brother and your whore mother.

I know you.
And that is what scares you.
So many people know you.
So many.

You deserve each other, you and those monsters

There is no easy way to say this

but I've been thinking about turning

not running but rather

kind of like a werewolf thing

unexpected, transcendental,

not a kin to your kind anymore

I mean, who would want to be?

To be known as your ex lover

to be seen as someone you once held

it is repugnant, to think I shared myself

to the last drop, with the likes of you

your family, your friends, the lot of rats

merely scrapping by, because that is

all you know and can do.

Once I tried to help you, twice I did lift you up,

and yet three times you did betrayed me, then the fourth

you left me to die in their hands.

You knew exactly what you were doing

taking away from me all that I held dear

my own choice to say yes or no, to consent.

To you it was just a game to play

just another piece of meat to bite into.

I loved you, and I gave so much of myself to you,

and as before I was betrayed by a most heinous of acts

done by a heartless bitch just wanting to get rich quick

because you never knew how to sell your mind

the work you did with your hands wasn't enough

if it wasn't holding onto someones cock

and you couldn't do any good talking with your mouth

so you had to get on your knees and pray for milk

with your baby boy so he could eat.

You deserve all you get,

all of the lies you are fed,

all of the people who will use you,

you deserve each and every moment you hate

the smell of the garbage pickers on top of you

because your love is something to be sold

because you can be bought and traded like a commodity

there is nothing about you which is redeeming,

there is nothing about you which can be saved.

I do not want to belong to the same genus as you

I do not wish to be cataloged among the same lines

as someone who will sell their own blood young and fragile

as someone who will take pure love and corrupt it with hate

To be with you was a learning experience of all I do not want

To be with you was a task to be completed in order to grow

Now all I can think of is making my memories of you disappear

Now all I can think of is remembering you so I do not forget

Why I want to become something else
Why I want to be free of you.

Thoughts

It's not for nothing, but there is a lot of different things in life that can always keep you occupied or at least help you forget. Some things are not that easy to put behind you, to think about differently. Some things are fleeting memories you don't want to make disappear, but there is no other way to move forward. Each and every day to wonder how many times it has to be relived in order to be understood. There is the just idea of the law of threes. This will never stop being a reality, a truth. Compared to the music of angels harps, this is nothing, but it is different. Maybe, maybe just enough to keep you going. There is a lasting choking point, thrusted upon the bay of human treachery you'll find it, and it will be something you can see and feel just as well in your husky insides. That gut feeling. Don't forget to listen to it. It doesn't mean you have to run away, it  means you need to be ready for anything, to study, to be on your toes. Stick to your love, love to love. There is no greater joy than to be truly on your path, be it what it may, even if you're so afraid and it can't get any worse just know one thing, it can and it will but you're strong enough to take it and smart enough to stay alive. God-speed.

Pumpkin Spice Girls

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Conversation With a Recovering Sex Worker

"They all have a prize" she said,
"Each woman out there is willing,
has, probably is at this very moment,
selling herself for something.
Some do it for love, others for money,
there are those who do it for need
be it food drink or drug,
others just like the way it feels
to have a cock inside of them
that loveless embrace and meaningless fuck,
with some cash thrown on top
anything is good enough for them to cum."

She sips her coffee,
lights another cigarette
and as she looks down
cup in one hand resting on the table
bitting her pinky finger
then taking a big drag of smoke
and as she exhales she says

"But all of those women,
especially those who do it
for money or for drugs,
will have to fuck guys who are just dirty,
their cocks unwashed for days
with that white smegma shit on them
and who knows what else!
That rancid sweaty smell–
some stinking of garbage
others just violent assholes. You know,
the moment they close that door
those women are slaves to those men,
sex slaves. They've sold themselves
for twenty thousand pesos, their freedom
for one hour, they belong to them."

She takes another drag from her smoke,
her voice is shaky, her grip on the glass is tight.

"Those men are the kind of people
who'll do all sorts of perverted things,
especially to a young woman,
they like to see a pretty face wince in pain,
a pleasurable agony."

She looks towards the green mountains,
past the city skyline, past the busy and working city
as a serene air comes through the large windows

"I stopped doing that a long time ago,
sure I have my price, but it isn't some thing
just anyone can pay for. I gotta like you,
you've got to buy me dinner,
take me out dancing, show me
a good time around town.
Then, when we are back at your place,
then, and only after we've met MY
expectations, then you can ravage me,
or I you. Well, not you you, but
you know what I mean, don't you darling?"

She snuffs her cigarette.

This is the ebb of the tide of our love

I asked her if she was going to sell her body again
she said she didn't want to talk about it right then
so there was something to talk about
something to be aired

It wasn't hard to figure out,
she was making ends-meet when I met her
then once we hung out
she told me of all the evil things in her life

her boss who is always asking for head
because he said he needed to get off
it made him feel better, she said
his balls hurt, it was the clap

when I first noticed it
I showed her what was going on
she thought that always happened
that it was normal in all men

before I had gone to her work,
because she invited me to
every day she said I made her feel safe
for two whole months.

She was still working,
not making enough money
although the designs all went out
she made a measly dollar per

though when she staid on
without me there
doing her deed in the bathroom
she could pay
for her babys' food and then some

so she told me one day
it is over
that is that, I cannot have this with you
She got new clothes and make up

Her shoes were also new
everything about Her changed
Her demeanor towards me
there was another man

other men
the smell on her, the ebb
in her
unnatural

clap
slow
patient
rising out and through

and that fucker told her it was normal
for your dick to drip like that
and she believed him
bringing it into our bedroom

I loved her
with every ounce of my being
although with this betrayal
I could only learn to forget her

and these realizations were just the beginning...

And she's a Moon, Cosmic.

Thinking about her

seems redundant

for her own existence

is but a figment

of her own imagination.

She's lived a thousand lives

worn a million faces

with each mask falling

from her broken facade

to show the ruins left behind

from the drugs and selling herself

so that men may have their kicks

so that she may make the bills

to pay for the little one who waits

back home to get sick from her breath

covered in the cum of her clients,

Still she wonders why her family gets so sick,

why her child is always ill sleeping next to her at night,

why her parents always look at her

with eyes so empty–

because they know what she does

in the bathroom stall of the print shop

bending over to show how well she's studied

and done her kegels to please the men.

Her parents know

that she drugs unwilling parties

with the help of the dwarf

to make her wallet bigger,

but what she doesn't remember

is if the coffee he's brought her

was dosed with scopolamine or not

sometimes she's curious

why her pussy aches,

why her chest pounds,

why her neck is sore,

why her head hurts–

scopolamine, burundanga.

He rapes her

when he doesn't want to pay her

she's okay with it

she's fine

she's a good girl

when she's on her knees,

her aching knees,

when she's bent over the toilette

getting pounded from behind

by yet another

and another

and another and another

and another and

another

and

another

and another,

she's fine with it

it's what she's been taught

what she's been made to be

what the drugs have done

what the desperation led her to:

becoming a tool for the pleasure of others.

Contrary to popular opinion I want to LIVE!

When your life is a roller coaster
you've got no choice
other than to take that ride
enjoy your time in the light
shadows and spikes
like a neon forest
climbing up the side
its glow engulfs you just
as you fall down so hard
as you fall down so far
that the only thing you've got
is that breath
coming quickly in and out
you're so in love with it
you're so in love with it
with yourself, and that is okay
because we all want to live
we all need a break