Meanderings
Probity
I am the lonely lowly Worm
that you make squirm.
Tread on my head
and I'm dead, dead, dead.
But not forever,
and a day shall come
when I qlippoth my hair
"What can you do for me"
Instead of simplicity I am sometimes tempted
to be complexly human
not purely a horny angel
who missed the boat
by watching it leave
{the chariot of Manasseh
my soul care}
They confuse jewellery
with Masonry
all those years of toil
and still no bride gift.
The god I laid low
so humanity might gain status
as I rebalance
the comic scale
of their inheritance :
Malkut-Shakhinah
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2nd Light Age
I shall dance
eternal combustion
and pave the way
for poppies of
the new age
Wailing Demon Lover
We are tired
of zero love
and Its demands
in absence of succubus.
As lust's great angel fades
to grey
it's just a complicated game.
----------------------------------
Wishes that aren't
horses
are nightmares
riding me
The wind roaring
like the sea
" don't You know
You're life itself"
---------------------------------
7/4/95 "Next..."
A loveless life
lies bleeding
lovelessly.
A non-relationship
flowers deadly
undyingly.
Zombie tears
do not appear
on the surface
anymore.
"A little french company"
for any but me -
the night ends
siletly
I am The Red ;
understood by few,
rarely known by any ;
All stands in Erra
unbeknownst to the many.
If you haven't been
bored through infinity
or screamed into eternity
how can you there
contemplate the mad dogs
of divinity and
condemn them.
Your One
I comprehend so do condemn
for its lopsided
half-living paramnesiac
deviancy.
Marisl Zath
without consort
who would have thought
I would graze on the star-fields
from the fields of regret
winnowing Sekhet-Aaru
chaff not blown away
but clinging rags of former
glory and lost kingdoms
Progress locked in
adamantine agate serpentine
Al Cifr the gadfly-by-night's rumenations
I am Erra,
king of the wasteland.
I can be found wherever
there is destruction lauded,
attending the times 'Good' meets 'Evil'.
I hang around
awaiting any chance to clear the ground
for the rebirth of Balance ;
that infinitesimal knife-edge
whose scales have been heavy tipped
int error
on all previous occasions
in the here and now world
kala kali
Never coming down again
static on the Plateau of Leng
even tempered in my fine cold sin
older than mankind
My mistress' eye inflames me
to burn the dross hardening around
my seedless threadbare soul
