by another name

Hell isn’t at all what I thought,
There is no fire,
And my bed isn’t a pyre.
Not even the slightest ash.
The air is clean,
skies so blue.
Glitter grows on trees,
Money glimmering in the seas.
A heaven with you.
It is a place where even the idea of you,
Could never be.
A hellish heaven so to say,
But some have gone so far as to stay.
I say,
Hell is hell even without the flame,
Hell is hell even by another name.


His face

An elusive clarity,

Sired in the cloak of darkness,

Crowned in the misty spires of shadows,

Eerie and leering, he looks on.

But I have seen the truth of him,

The truth of his lies.

I have glanced his face,

Abounded with ugliness,

He bears the ugliness of a thousand men,

Uglier still with every gesture.

Dreary eyes,

Deadened and reddened,

Drooping from his billowy parchment skin,

He has no bones,

I see his saggy sallow cheeks,

A putrid slit for a mouth,

Eternally spinning the lore of woe,

Holes for ears and a nose,

I wonder if he breathes at all.

Jagged teeth,

Rusted and wrought.

I have seen his face,

Perched atop men’s breasts and women’s skulls,

Like the vulture he is.

I know the truth of this creature,

Though his might may never cease,

I have glanced his face from the rear,

The face of fear.


It only ever precipitates,
Never to dissolve,
Even after I have mixed it with my blood,
Inhaled it,
It refuses to dissolve,
this existence of mine,
Continually drowning me instead.
I can’t wait till the fluid fills my lungs.

unsightly plightings

Abyss, abyss, abyss,
Swallow me not today,
Unsink me into thine darkness.

Comatose, comatose, comatose,
Drowse me not into your slumber,
Unlink me from thine sleepwalking spell.

scold me not with your vile bile,
unchain me from thine sulphuric harangue.

Dearest blackness,
unfill this madness,vacuum the sadness.

truth aspirin

The problem is entirely unconcerned with science per se rather it is inhabited in its master, the scientist.

Try as we may it will always remain the unfortunate case of a pure object in the hands of an impure subject.


the chord that struck

this is definitely why i seek out Somi, the intoxicating lyrics,the caramel coated sound and jazzy feel. Very reminiscent of New Orleans black musicians of the olden days.A punishing tale to tell or hear.Very good art.