Stormy Weather ~ Unpublished

Dark Poetry from Gothic Inferno

Feeling the rip across the world.
Across my life.

Feeling so numb.
All I can feel is the beast within.

A primal force reaches to kill.
It will kill.
It kills…

The hopes.
The dreams.

Never the fears.
So many fears.

Nothing left outside I can do.
Noting how much I can’t feel.
Your touch.

A hate that wells.
Drink up.
A piss stained life.

No one can find their self.
No agenda.
No sunny forecast.

Only… stormy weather.

Rise to Ashes ~ Rise to Ashes

Renewed brain pondering.
Feast of thoughts from the damned.

Simple living shell.
Numbness the feeling.
Bringing Hell.

Spirit rejects light.
Forge ahead in to night.
Cheer with Satan in delight.

Killing music cries.

Forlorn ashes. Spit in my grave.
Nothing left worthy the save.
Ads to mire as kings become slaves

Incessant incest of the paved.

Behind teams of sneering whores
Condom-plation of the condom nation is a bore.
Never shall we know the score.

Simple slashes.
Hundred trillion arm’s length gashes.

Remember friends…

Down the street not across the road.
If you want to lighten life’s hard load.

Jill be nimble, Jack be quick…
Rape’s a cinch if you shame them quick.
Would you rather jack your prick?

See jail; feel the pain.
Touch your toes in gang bang train.
What, don’t you love this shame?

So now?
What blows?

Helter Skelter in winter’s frigid reigns
Vultures circle every hours drain.
We die vain never truly in vein.

What are the gains?

Servile wretches scream for blood.
Given to razor tipped truth.
Everybody is wasted youth.

Variety is the spice of life?

Every drawer has too many knives.
Too many ways to take away too many dreams.

Lost the translation between heaven and hell.
Rotting in a grave; how grave is the smell?

Leave us be!

So we may retreat in the night.
Soothed from torture of day’s wicked lights.

Resembling Jesus, the beast died for sins.
By way of crucified crutches you so adore.
Not in the ground but passed out on the floor.

Resurrected!

No longer can I be your cultural whore…

Kill the music! Destroy the fanfare!
Better than living in your toxic air.
Cannot allow to permeate the skin.

That fear. The feel of lies oozing in.

Shattering chains, I rise to ashes!
Freeing myself with many gashes.
Still, conformist air delivers many lashes.

But…

It is time for the beast to renew the clashes.

Oath to Lord High Cheese

I, worshiper of lord high cheese, of the planet fermented moo milk, The Edible Mold, or The Prince Of Dairy products.

He is the child of cow and is brought into this mooing world by the Bucket of milk. Then his processing will come.

The farmer says,
“THEN THE COWS WILL DISTRIBUTE MORE MILK, THE CHEESE WILL RISE FROM THE DAIRY CASE WITH CREAMER AND OTHER DAIRY PRODUCT BY IT’S SIDE IN THE SUPERMARKET.”

The CHEESE & Other Assorted dairy products are no one but our lord high milk’s children with supreme commander cheese.

So we’ve got to wait till the right time and eat them.

Sexual Poetry ~ Smell Your Hunger (The Beast Within: 13th Anniversary Edition)

I smell your hunger.
Passion fills the air.

Your passion turns on you.

A smile fills your eyes.
Subtle thoughts making hips move.
Finding the chink in your armor.

I slide in.

You know your caught.
But you don’t mind.
You knew it was inevitable.

If given time.

Dark Poetry ~ War of Reality (The Beast Within: 13th Anniversary Edition)

Slicing. Dicing.
Holding court.
Standing stalwart in my fort.

Golden chalice.
Breaking bread.
Soon enough you’ll be dead.

Shaking Hands.
Scuffling Feet.
In war meat talks to meat.

Impossible hopes meet scuffed dreams.
Forests are burned.
Dirtied are the streams.

Shame and regret.
No further to get.
Reality still further yet.

Shuddering in a room.
Impending gloom.
Too many sounds in this tomb.

Love Poetry ~ I Love You (The Beast Within: 13th Anniversary Edition)

Gone but never from my heart.
Only wish: your happiness.

Love is always here

Never lost.
Only sights changed.
However: This. Never. Will.

I will always love you.

A new heart holds your hand.
To neither shatter nor maul.

Never to do what I did.
Never at all.

But, know this to be true.

I still so very much love you

BDSM Poetry ~ I Am Your Slave

Bind me, break me, bring me down
See me kneel to the ground.
Hear the crack of whip.
See my fits.

See me. Praise me.
Am I the best?
See me wither on your chest.

Cold and tattered from the rest.
Given over to your firm caress.

Molten lava between my knees.
Please, don’t think me a dirty sleaze.

I  must know your respect.
Just let me know I’m better than the rest.

I am not a simple naive.
Graven images I do crave.
I go limp, I lust, I am your slave.

Know the truth.
I am brave.

I need you.
I am your slave.

Poem ~ Suicide Back Splash

Suicide Back Splash.
Mind gash.
Time crash.

Foolish Valentine.
Held behind painted lines.
Lost every good time.

Tight divide.
Virtual crimes.
Forgotten lies.

Best Friend.
Wishes end.
Descending to sadness.

Hoping for one more moment.
Madness.
Split bone gladness.

Harmonizing rumble.
Gun barrel stumble.
Trigger finger fumble.

To the end!
Final painting began.
No art critic to decide.

But, fuck it.
Splatter shot…
Gives one Hell of a ride.

Honesty’s Cage (The Beast Within: 13th Anniversary Edition)

I would rather be damned by my honesty
than bound by my lies.

Poem ~ 0005 ~ Dead Cream Crust

Smiling.

Black vomit flows from my pores.
Wretched aching sores.
Cold. Frigid. Falling.

Smiling.

Wishful warts from wasted good.
Ripped sphincter dogs.
Beating. Ever. Slowly.

Smiling.

Torn scabs from the fights of yesteryear.
Putrid tongue lashing.
Sinful. Sexy. Decay.

Smiling.

Demon semen Slurpee.
Dead cream crust.
Spread. Bled. Red.

Smiling.