A Joy So Near To Melancholy

  "Choose Your Poison," they say. But how can I, when they all look delicious? A foamy, strawberry milkshake   with blended pillowy marshmallows is a sure way to die well. But I'll take the tangy sweet raspberry filled chocolate , for that poison gives me the right vitality. If you ask me, that can of dihydrogen monoxide is a bit underwhelming, but I can drink it afterwards to clear my palette. And then afterwards I'll clear my stomach of these toxins with a cold glass of whiskey, next to that ghost that always hangs by the staircase. She always looked a bit dead compared to other ghosts, aren't they supposed to be scary? I hardly even notice she's there until I have that glass. And then it's that lullaby. The window her eyes lead to is the royal blue gateway to a far more desolate place. She continues to hum to that dying star. I can't bear to look out the glass, it's too bright. Her eyes undeterred by the madness, she quietly keeps every mome...

Dancing cricket on the picket fence. Borrows Light from the Moon . From its wings it calls incessantly, for the other dancers of the night. The bleeding Sun 's twin sister... Why does she look down in  Gloom? When the cricket has yet to see dawn, and remains so full of fight. Is that not what the Moon likes to see and hear? It surely instills hope in her as it does her brother. For whom this dance is a rhythmical transition from the dead to the living And for whom its the start of the Gladiators' breakfast, welcoming the winners of tomorrow to feast upon the winners of yesterday And so, ... "Why are you weeping?" her haughty older brothers asks. The moon answers , "Your self-consumption... is constant... and pitiable. Where will you be in a millennia when you have nothing left of yourself to consume?" The Sun laughs "That is what you are there for! When the Earth no longer can serve my appetite, you'll be right there!" T...

The World is So Noisy yet so Sterile! The World is so Noisy- and yet so Sterile! A surgeon with a loud mouth. It is sickening, cutting small slices across the skin near constantly and devouring its victim slowly.  It mocks and taunts, and offers little solace. The only way out is a greater bleeding. After which, I of course won't be satisfied even. What I want is a compromise between life and death. Let life take death unto itself in infinitely many places so that it may not know itself as immortal. Let death be free to invade and impregnate the world but in the name of something noble.  Eradicating evil? Let's call it "sin", for super-imposed narcissism!  And kill kill kill it will. But why start? Get yourself off the operating table, and pay no dues or limbs.

Forever I Know The Void, Forever I Know Your Love There’s not many as lovely as you Divide by infinity and it still holds true where does one go Staring into the Void It’s something unlike anything else Spiral spiral spiral ... Spiral Spiral Spiral Down down down Back and Up Again Staring into the Void A world within which something happened A world in which I can inhabit forever A world where time stops A world frozen in your love There’s no one as needed as you Multiply by zero and it still holds true Let’s stay forever Because you are all there is The Maze disappears, and I no longer feel lost For I know exactly where I am In Darkness, In the Void, In Death I know exactly where I am not. All is Known, and All is Foretold I love you forever Forever, I love you      Groovy Train · Blooms

Forgive Me, For I Know What I do Forgive Me, For I Know What I do. A sinner is a sinner, as one and one is two.   Despite Your Perusals:      Inspect Your Arousals: I am a demon Bereft of You Forgive Me, for one and one is two. A sinner is a sinner, and I know what I do.

Within and Of Water and Steel Cast Into The Ocean?  Or Risen Up from the Primal Magma, which Runs through the Veins of the Earth, Giving Structure and Form to Ancient Machinery, Built to Power to the Farthest Time? You Would Believe in the Things Giving an Eternal Flame to Her Eye’s Zeal  If You Felt Her Tears Fall With Every Motion Her Grand Machinery Ticks As Time Goes On Woodworks of a Goddess, Her Silent Pulse, Bubbles of Light Releasing To the Surface to Remind Us Of Her Persistence to the Farthest Time Her Severe Mechanics, Devouring and Expending Heat at Once They Offer the Greatest Harvest Whose Fruits Are Only Enjoyed By Those Who Walk Where Oblivion Grows and Stretches To Its Farthest Reach