Poems from Goya

Cacophony

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What sort of beast

cackles and shrieks

and fills its daily life

with meaningless drivel

 

Disgust fills the head and soul

to the cacophony of these

creatures, these bestial excremenets

 

Repulsion fills my stomach,

filling the senses

with the little things

 

There is no nobility in the beast

but none in these

boys and girls

To Be Alone

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What is loneliness?

Not solitude, restful and peaceful

not the containmnet of self

not reclusivity

 

Loneliness

is a stabbing pain

a knife in the liver

that cuts from side to side

cleanly through the skin

 

Loneliness

is the tearing of the eyes

their purging

their blindness that cannot see to see

 

It is negativity

the negation of all

the negation of me

the negation of you

 

Loneliness empties

Loneliness consumes the void

feeds and excites it

 

Loneliness is the void.

Anatomy

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The /long/ /thin/ /tend/drils/ of /your/

hair

do /tear/ and /slice/ the /brain/

till all that you are

becomes all that I care And questionly I ask

Should I refrain?

What I Feel

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What I feel is the abscence of feeling

not its coming and going

but the flatnesss of nothing

what i feel is nothing a

and i have become nothing

Rigid

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I feel so rigid today

So constrained and tightly

wound

 

Inside today

the hardness

squeezes in torque hardness

 

And the razor-sharp stripes

reflet the muscle and skin

etching themselves on my

flesh

 

I struggle for release

but harder struggle

becomes harder tightening

 

I feel so rigid today

like a wall of strong bricked walls

immutable

 

Barbed wire wraps itself under my skin

And I cannot feel relief

Suffering

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The old masters knew it well,

andblind to Icarus

and the fall

It fails to kill the soul

prolonging life, extending life

 

And yet

we revel in it

pleasure it

feed off our own misery

Suffering nurtures and the killing

our hearts

 

I llong for suffering

to quickly kill me

to end the pointless call

of life

Suffering, they knew it well

Insects

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It crawls,

slithering, writhing and compossing

a fugue

of Agony that tears the inside

skin

Its kin spread and multiply

and burrow

and burrow

 

I slowly

crawl

and metamorphesis

into A Living Talking Worm

that moves

and wears a human

body suit

 

When the words issue from

the mouth worm

the changed mouth

It issues a dank and fetid

smell

 

I despair for my death