Archives for posts with tag: Life

Prisoner No. 12 sits in the visiting area; he never receives any and expects no change but he comes just so he watches “interactions in nature”. A group chats behind him – a lady and her fiance;

Lady: Remember we are Christians. The good book says we should love our neighbours as ourselves not “more than”..

Fiance: Yes.

No. 12 has some thoughts – it seems this guy is having some trouble with his cellmate. Ahh..I could use some company but I am labeled “maximum security” – but does not concern himself with them centrally so he goes on:

“Some books are too authoritative. The only authority should be the world and the various beliefs, proceeding from even more various and numerous perceptions, it gives us. In some parts of the world books are so authoritative one imagines libraries for states.”

He now looks away to another group that seems to be having some mini-party. They seem very happy despite their great misfortune, it’s interesting. Now he sighs, “time with family…” and smiles in a grimace.

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Yes, let it be poetry that corrupts me, depraves me, raises in me monsters, goblins of phenomenal grotesquerie. Let it be poetry that turns me black with the Darkness of the Void. The darkness that I meld into, sigh and weave into, where I am indeterminably Alive, Dead


I have lived my life in the belly of the poetry. Each time my heart spoke, it connoted the rose of a ghost; full of know, essence and glow, sepulchral as a castaway boat. For truly, I spoke from afar off the current’s marks with accent that scent of frankinscence and myrrh. Mystic machinations of depth and verve – swerving, curving – enwrapping all I serve. My mind would swoon and soon I’d entwine with the grass, the fields, passing out sweet wine. I would die in the ground that I’d lie on sound, then germinate alive speaking languages unsurvived.