ViviPhalloids

...Agdistis --- Of veins And perhaps strings, It hung from above, As if the bloated sky was covered, with vines. I couldn't bear its sight, For the acute vision of its shape was vivid, beyond lucid. No it wasn't a dream, no it wasn't a dream… I could control my every sense, my movements were sharp and clear. NO it was more than a figure of my imagination! It was there, like a lamp off a ceiling, like a cocoon, like Ammuts uvula in her oral intervention leaning to swallow the land, there, burning red, throwing its hue, blending on the gradient horizon, as if the clouds were bleeding. It had fallen from that hole up there! Bu

Pale, Ils s'emplissent. Un brouillard de sons qui t'efface. Une lueur d'alcool qui entasse, Dans un foie qui brule. Il m'énerve tous Avec leur gueule serrée, Fragile au vent qui n'existe même pas. On y croit quand même,   L'hélium de nos sottises, Qui doucement déguise Le cercueil d'étoiles Et nos cœurs s'oublient, Dans un œil qui fuit, La poussière d'un bruit, Qui ne brule même pas.

The night killed the wolf. lo! It was silence that howled Deep beneath the burning woods, Echoing through the cold roots, Out of the womb we call hell But the morning never came And the church was never tamed, And so the heart can refrain What the darkness can not tell "I'm the apple, I'm the sore I'm the scapegoat of your pins I'm the atom in the sins of the demon you adore. I'm the truth that burns the soul And the lie that blows the flame I, a bouquet of your stains Out of your tears in this hole.." --- The unholy day went bright As I fell through the hole And the great howl was the toll Of When the wolf killed the

It was half dark and the feeling of someone watching was overwhelming. yet every now and then, through the corner of my eye, their flung a shadow, as if that lurker is calling my watch. And i turned every now and then to catch a glimpse of the intruder, but the shadow was absent. No different then a ghost, did he taunt my vision. I wasn't even sure it was a shadow. But alas it kept taunting the eye's extremety, until the sore of my curiosity inflamed; i turned enraged, calling out the unwelcomed host with blasphemous spew; Alas!..  it was but the corner of the flag floating on my window, who, still with its blood

Once was i a man, whose brain would torment and whose sky was sand in a tomb cold space Then came her face upon my land as i lift my eyes to see her place Lo! was her light in the foggy night whose rays would stab the blurry days But the wind here blew then turned to snow and my neck would break in my tomb cold lake And again it blew in the summer wave and turned my view to a tomb cold grave Head down again with a skyline sand was i a bust in a tomb cold land And i cried a lake when my neck would break when they dried again in the summer wake But in the pond of tear her reflection's clear in the misty fear,