~ SunWater
for you
I snorted ajax
through my veins
injected a sewing needle
through my nose
as your nudist orbit
crossed to me
in waves of tidal blood
I’m left cowering ~ alone
on an anthrax laced beach
no shirt, no shoes, no surfboard
just a broken plated body
washed ashore,
de~reefed
dead
echo’s
of love
echo
beyond
the corrugated seashells
buoying on
vacant promises
where the sharkgulls
once sunbathed
Diva of Darkness: volumes I~III Promotion
Diva of Darkness: Volumes I~III eChapbooks will be available for FREE from February 14th through February 19th, 2016 on Amazon.
(click on book covers to download)
ignorantic
I cracked open a walnut
beneath the canine of my tooth
and out spilled maggots
writhing in amnesiatic verse
vile-ing in insomniactic pain
while midnight in the evil of garden and lust prevailed.
Sir Serpentine Jesus said to take down my hair
and splay open my breasts to feed its poor
he said, eve is upon adam – I said, F.U.C.K.
you, for unlawful carnal knowledge
I banged my head, fell victim to the mosh
so sad is the sinner sinning
who tries to become holy holier-
I know nothing of this life
only how to crack a walnut
and avoid being fucked to death
the Devil, too, comes
his body quaked
and shuddered
as he watched
the distant inferno
melt the flesh
off her Angelic face;
he comes instantly
on his hand, spitting
fire demon semen
into the recesses
of Hell
death, in the Devil’s eyes,
had never looked
so deathly pornographic
morgue Monday
my mind
is on a chopping block ~
my thoughts
in a systematic gutter
of porn and religion ~
I can’t think straight
I can’t deviate
I can’t create
much less. . .post-levitate ~
sittin’ on the couch
watchin’ Spanish soaps
my mind feels
like it’s on Spanish dope ~
change channel
several times
only to find
that over the weekend
people got shot ~
some shot by cops
some shot for talkin’ crazy
some shot by enraged lovers
some shot by dudes ’cause other dudes were fuckin’ their ladies;
some shot ’cause deals have gone bad
some shot for wishing they had had
what had gone bad ~
it’s a mad, mad, world
a beautiful life in a big beautiful city
and it’s barely 7 in the morning
as I stir my black coffee brown thinkin’ today would be a good day
to buy me another gun
GUTLESS
I’m drowning
in an ocean
of filtered water
it is obvious that
I’m in to deep
in to deep because I’ve allowed
you to ingest me whole
to permeate the recesses
of what made me solitary once
I could very easily fend
systematically loathing you
unremorsefully begging you
to regurgitate the spent
of my flesh and frame
and make me sovereign again
like when you used to look at me –
with love
yet,
invoking an immense sensatory
of your lust I hungered for
but drowning, today, is the most
logical approach – this filtered water
pungent-ing my soul,
exterminating my sins,
exorcism-ing my spinal demons
like casting out the Archangel of Guts
from within a paradisonal hell –
sinless, spineless, demonless
I’m a fucking pathetic gutless waste
to what makes a soul humanely pure.
I guess
this is what it means
after one says, “I do”.
a Woman with a Gun
I am a woman with a gun
dead end eyes,
severed reflections
beautiful, I am
cunning, you are
and wise we are not
I roll the dice
and cast your fate
with Heaven to greet you
at Hells gate
as I lie down here beside you
-blood cells spilling like diamonds-
I am reminded
that without my gun
I am just an ordinary woman-
disassembling
and that without your gun
you are nothing more
but an ordinary man-
dying
A.M. Coffee
Satan in my coffee
on a Tuesday morning
riding shotgun
to work with Bob
and his cat-Black,
in a white Chevy truck
black coffee
I need cream
to make it brown
and sugar,
lot’s of sugar
to kill the strength
to calm the storm
brewing earlier in my
roach infested coffee pot
‘they lay eggs, you know’
Bob says to me
the cat hisses
it despises roaches like dogs
particularly the one
crawling out from my thermos
~^.^~Black Cat~^.^~
Cat.
Black Cat.
Crossing the street, Cat.
Cat.
Black Cat hisses!
Tires screech.
Rubber burns.
Smoke clears.
I didn’t miss him by an inch.
Cat.
Black Cat.
Not just another
Dead in the street, Cat.
Cat.
Black Cat.
You should have never broken my heart, Cat.
Psycho Sluts Live In Heaven
Psycho sluts live in Heaven
branded in apple tattoos
that kiss the mouth of those unSatan
like those wogs slithering like their counterpart semen
trudging upstream to mate with my berries;
Angelina Jolie ordered herself
a Double-Scotch-On-The-Rocks Mastectomy
and I think ‘what’s the point’
you’re getting old anyways!
So embrace shriveling up
and eventually dying.
Death Dealer #66
I woke up aggravatingly hornier than the night before
mislaid without the sense of prepaid gratification
from that stupid whore now stumbling out the apt. door
Beneath a vehement deluge I thought about that magnificent
Theatre of Incest, the fucking dog barking incessantly down the street
that barmaid with Jell-O for fake tits, that old man who acted like a bitch
all gone, all gone, all gone right where they belong
in that unholiest sanctuary they assume Dante’s Paradiso
I took a hit of the Devil’s blow, read my list, then took a hard piss
in that open cesspool of mouths coupled with the shameless and the breathing
feeding off Catholics who are misleading, Christians who live their lives by Jesus
“Jesus!” what a fucking mess, much less, it is for the best, I guess, if I blessed those
living in some post-idealistic place, not chased by the demon lovers of regret,
ensnared by the demon haters of no mercy; his name is Percy, and he sits
one stool opposite from me, 66 years of pouring tears into his warm beer, then sighing and crying wishing he were dying, dead, gone from this disenchanted place
once called Eden, now called South of Eden, my place, the Death Dealers place,
I show Percy no mercy and he dies swift and just, back to that Eden of lust
where his ancestors thrived before the serpent apocalypse eclipsed with the light like tonight
Vomica
I dream
of gold lighted Christmas trees,
and non-flesh eating
Zombies
beating down my naked windows,
my hands fumble clumsily
with the blinds
trying to blind those
from blinding me
There’s a single light bulb
hanging
from its intestine
it sways back and forth
creating shadows
of demons on walls
as I sit poker-faced
in front
of God,
De Vinci, Beelzebub
and Methuselah
all dressed
in post-iconic Gangster get-up,
the scene alone
fascinates me, exorcises me,
that I start having
an out of body experience
when my Full House
collapses
retaining them to beckon me
on all fours, first
across the floor
reeking of misconception
until I find myself
viewing the misinterpretation
of the world
from upside down
Though I realize
I need glasses
I see everything fine
and when
I got lost
inside of her
I found
my way out
and
when I awake,
the room is eerily empty and
full of life-
I vomit
Trainwreck
Black tie-dye canaries stall the
hands of time cradling infants
still umbilicalled in the
hanging garden’s euphemism
Cataclysms and Catholism
may be the answer to a self-imposed
self-apocalyptic junk-alcoholic veering
down the tracks @ a 125 miles per hour
but I can’t see the moon trying to eclipse
the sky for it is fucked as I am fucked
LA must be a logical place harboring
my body as an epileptic earthquake
the Richter scale reads: 10+10+10, and
I wished my superficial girlfriend would stop
reading me bedtime stories gauged with
animalstic fairy tales of skid row; I feel
barbaric and I want to conquer Germania
just to fuck with the demon dogs in her head
but she constricts and I have flash backs of
birth of contractions of gestation of copulation,
and I can see my mother poetically broken by what took
an eternity to create merely took seconds to destroy-
and the roses smell pretty, still
Pirating Underground
Cowboy Junkies
from Hell
ride your faceless
demons
whiskey vodka
sex
&
black hearts
surmount
& you’re pretty still
behind
your naked breasts
DIVA of DARKNESS 