Wednesday, April 23, 2014


And governed by all types of perversion - a world ungrasped and incalculable.

Sexual gratification of murder
for ration;
a childish giggle for foreplay
and death of a nation

Tender fingers
rasped iron bars
The prisoner bled rust from his head
into jars
And he sold them to inmates
too afraid to accept
that it wasn't a juice from a café
He said:

The devil he lives in a stairwell
below you
Your steps will alert him
Your breaths
will arouse
his affections
You left him, you said,
but you held on to death

And The Earth is a finger:
directed a sun
to revolve around pride if you loved
then he won

Have you seen evil’s vile
A split tongue
and a smile
Who created your fear
but a complex denial
of self for a while?
Oh dear

You set fire to hearth
while the wood prospered on
Because go from your birth
a malignant confront
told you life is a treasure
but just what is won
in a dank bloody cellar
where your dad
kept his guns

So drained out
of fulfilment
they winked and they said
if you opened your mind
you’d find summer
is red
from the blood
of a devil
and his wife that you tortured right under his bed

Mother, dear
You tried only your best
to declare a resemblance
to a God

and you dressed up in dresses choked dry by the presses
pretending to care when we all know you left us

to deal with negligence
far out a prayer
for some hopeless repentance
yes better beware. So
pass bowls full of water and cups with entrails

to your Satan still under the staircase

 - By Josh N

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