49

on a fucking leash
stigmata as my reins
and it pours blood down
foreshadowed guilty palms
but i'd tear my hands
from these nails
drag broken arms
and limp wrist's through hell and back
i've got to be made aware
got to reach the entrails
follow the respiratory system with ingest
I wander
a lost mind among flora
pyrotechnic palms
and heathen carvings in my skin
i'll scale the cross for you
rise atop a war ridden with plague

my nails as road spikes, ill claw
up your high heeled calves
tearing flesh from inner succubi
my mind in a different place
crimson drool follows my skull
i separate your shoulder blades
what is a god
I can anything inside my sanctum
a fleeting efreet
i'm crazed and capsized
feet in the sand
and hands digging through a troth of flesh
but this skin, my own
i'll devour muscle letting me love
letting me fear
letting me hate

48

mountains,
an easy comparision for a human being
the exterior shapped by memories
a mountain is always stern
but a human's will, is easily broken
that of a wooden doll
if you throw it, it breaks it
but we regenerate from shattered and torn
to alive and new, but hardened
but its never hard enough
because the coast will always erode
and we will always gradually let go
and hold onto the impossible
even with proper knowledge
this overcast frigid feeling
will always be familiar.

its a cold snap.
the way our chest's can be broken open
frozen with the ice age
our hearts stopped and brittle
careful to touch, because hearts do shatter

in an art form all its own
regeneration is lending its arm to the human condition
an art we can never let go
as much as the heart wants to pull out
the body pushes in
into love
and torn stories all the same.

47

it all comes to an end with death.
so wake the fallen
and brush their coats of blood and sweat
because you are headed to hell along with your dreams
just like every one of us.

46

franchise my perfection unto brass hooks
run line through hearts of stone and cast them out
how deep does despoar drag on
heated curretns flow up beyond layers
through sealed teeth and undernear fingernails
and we sink
quicksand out fond friend
enropping the avian children
clipping their wings and selling them
to gods bursting with blind faith
flip the cross and wedge
your faith between sin and love
the hearts of the war are full of sorrow
much like the abyss beneath the oceans grasp
the calm og the ocean and the drop of the ranges
crimes against heaven mean nothing
swalled amongst sea redder
then the deads will and tesetament

past verses shower meteor rain
down to the fault lines
they bury this heart.

45

those monuments erected in heroes wake
shatter at the recollection of their memories retold
at the memories our gods instill upon us.
we don't buy them
we sell them to those less fortunate
and those lacking the strength to brave life on their own
turn to me when your life turns for the worse
scale the flag poles and shred these colors
produce a tunic and enjoy the warmth of your countries people
so blindly following those colors.
unknowing of the outcome of elections
and angry with the deciscions made by the north.
the blood in my veins, corses through those opposing me
we are one in the same
turn your back to me when your life turns for the worse
cause I dont care.

44

I will show the world the steadfast railing that hold us back from the truth
the iron and bone congealed into a force so strong
the workhorse, triumphant as the statue holding our cities in place
we as a people are something we are not
a bold faced lie amongst the glory of martyrs
we the self proclaimed
we the ignorant mass
the faithful few that remain atop their horses
as profound as the four horsemen of the apocalypse
these are the people that deserve the reins our government throws so the wind
a quick awakening from drab tales inside our own imprisonment, our mind
and the day dreams promising that times will change, that times will never change
I've heard the same songs a million times, same arguments a million more
this change is impending, i've come to fear it more than the day the sun burns out
though she tried so hard, she will fall before our heads find her light.
a people so set on change
but so fearful of the results makes me sick
but who am I
a man amongst the riot of life
this is the memento i'll cherish
the same memento every aware american hides in his pockets and his throat
a promise of change.

43

the rings around earths chains
shackle inhabitance to their graves
a world among waste
the verse acts as the axis
prayers unsung and taxes unpaid
a world among waste
remains a bottom feeder
recycling nativity for avarice
a world among waste
breeds leeches traveling
shirts cuffed
and ties so neat
a world among waste
is the world we live in

42

im collecting skulls and remains
from Bostons stars
theyve been drowned out
by the impending crusifxtion
of all that harbors honesty.

the effort i've presetned
in hopes to save you
has been washed out
bleach and iodine
prove me useless
prove me irrelevant

I miss those stars
guiding what was left of compassion
night skies are empty
and dreams lay barren
crime remains the closest contact

lost in the changing seasons
the scent of rejection lays heavy
amongst spring
the stars fall to their deaths
foul amongst farm
capital amongst an empty sea

the guiding voices we all turn to
are mute and have withdrawn
leaving a trail of blood
and a filthy city dirty with regret.

Vol. 3

The Redder The Deader

41

crush crustacean bodies along shorelines
create the earth beneath your feet
and rip the existence from a creature
just to feel the strength of a god
we play this game with our faces to the sky
beautiful wrenching sound amongst
our palms are we hold index finger to index finger
I cant feel my own regrets
I can feel the skin slip off your bones
i've collected so many teeth
i've harbored my regrets in every person I cross
the environment is breathing with my hatred
every chance, a certainty
your faith is my crutch
as I cross oceans of beliefs and dreams
just to shattered the ignorance you try to personify
give him life
give him legend
give him fiction
give him reality
but what good do these do for a dead man
give me life
give me legend
give me fiction
give me death.

Vol. 2

What The Saint Patricks Day Parade Has To Offer Us All.

40

once steadfast and honored thoughts
now become frail with the clocks whim of loss
the innocent is lost between the witching hour
influence and promise hang their coats
on doors made of salvaged human skin
organs decorate the last supper upon dishes of
greed, and vanity
our liver and kidneys disobey the command
finding themselves en route to another mass
fair trades and farewells imprint their short lived memories
Hades takes our skeletal hands and leads us forth
Styx and stones may break our exoskeleton
but forewarned words
never reach their destination
it's the pleasure of our stature
to watch you decay in your own homes
penniless thieves we train you to be
psycho's you turn out to be
this laughter
is that of a million unwed souls wishing their last
was between bedsheets of loves forgotten.

Vol. 1

Urban Intelligence, It has taught the youth how to spell swear words really well.

39

I can wear you thin
wear the soles off your shelter
scrape your knee's against gravel
make you grovel
praise be to lobotomist,
sandblasting your dreams straight from your skull
wear the sheets you lie in
robes from developing nations
to coat such surreal hatred for my own short comings
caught up in the sway of tree's
in neighboring lawns
watering the saplings from nuclear warfare
dwindling obelisks crash far into the depths of the sea
tremors bury the pillars amongst the pirates of yesteryear
rib cages will rattle with the echoing silence of self solitude
emptiness becomes you
emptiness became me
emptiness is the end of the line
a world so shattered and torn
the end of the line
tooth and nail, rank and file,
march the death trail
head high and proud for a nation with its beliefs
lost in the ambitions of generations gone sour

38

fresh fruit from rotting succubi
weathered tomes and unearthed graves
this day and our daily bread
are focal points for our nations god
the figment so seperated from state
that our trespasses have been forgiven
but the equality I stomach deep in these covers
has enveloped my self loathing
and brought me to my knee's to worship in jest

frail minds brood false ideals

but wagging war along picket lines
with pistols and hand grenades
leaves the praise for those to scared to speak their minds
BE STILL, BE SILENT, REFORM
my peers ability to form singular opinions
from the depths of their make up
is deader than the horse our god rode in on
those that treat the goblet with fear
follow the whims of those who hold the blood

37

home sweet home
a babylonian recluse
my own christ over run
parasite ridden exsistence
apathy over turned
my grave stone
scribled with prayers
shackled to bone by rosary
and the days stand on end
their spines bent into spirals
warping mind into illusion
but we all bear our crosses

wilderness stricken
the wolves hunting
the blood of demons
the church's right hand
crosses your face
with the force of nature
so bury that hatred with a hatchet
drown that resentment in IBU
and become the beast
you have hidden beneath
that fragile flesh.

36

youre adrift in the sea
your raft bashful
ashamed of the urchin it's carrying
to embankment after embankment
searching for another earthen sprawl
to reach jagged claws into
and resurface the reassurance
that all good things do come to an end

the ocean breathes deep mist filled breathes
down your back and beneath your heels
as you stand top heavy over this great sea
the general convictions
and yearly vows become shit in your wake
terrorizing magnificent lands
and in tow you bring hatred
worth a walk on coals
and a love so shattered
the shards would make their way to our hearts
completely under the radar
and for compassion
you lack the vocabulary for such gracious deeds.

35

i think screaming its a silver lining to hatred
its vocalization exercises like those that keep me breathing
under the weight of gallons of processed ideals
and prized women flanking their adversaries.
youre useless. the image of ant lions clawing your skin
is forever scorned by the fire you breath beneath the sheets
male skin stretched across your back, beneath your feet
tread with stiletto heel, and Achilles mentality
because youre so frail
a battle won is a revenge impending
heat struck and taken aback by dementia
you'll die before my spawn have reached their fullest
meek hunger and weak engorged
the suit you follow, the traffic you stop
the deserts you water, the glaciers you melt
knee deep in your own intestines
wary of the last supper becoming the death of your smaller size
you've broken bread with god and you're afraid of image
i'm afraid youre mistaken
because this wine
it's your own fucking blood, and the coming stigmata
its your own grave
and this bread
its your own salvation
but what do you care?
i've nailed crosses to your back because I want religion to wash away
with all of the disrespect I hold for your kind
floating through eons, a host for bigger parasites

34

i fucking hate anger, I hate rage
I fall victim to whims and enjoyment from succubi
my hands are frail, chapped, and colder then
Shiva's snatch
come warm me, come inform me.
dont tread on the tracks on my back
with promise of something real
and dreams of something tolerable
who breaks the camels back breaks the politicians stride
manhole and broken smiles
dont forget that i've treated it well
the small egg you've given me to nourish
a trial perhaps
but dont greet the hellish ghouls
that you see when you look in the mirror
with the same prowess you let me enjoy
i'll stone your god and follow up the bombardment
with a cigarette cloaked in cocaine
how does it fucking feel
worthless and probably wishing you had done things a different way.
well I dont fucking care anymore
because we spend out whole lives digging out own graves with our own toes
and the dirt in my nails I could sell to ancient settlers
tell them its gold
tell you its your lifeline
tell you its the last chance youll have to keep a piece of me.

33

my hands are outstretched my wingspan at its fullest
and I can only beat my own ego into the dirt so far
as to regrow it from its seed
the truest hatred will regrow
the saddest stories will still unfold
a different epic, a different face, a different life
but the pain, it still ails me
the fear of nothing beneath the surface threatens my pride
IS THIS SHELL SO HARDENED TO PREVENT INTRUSION
Oh, Helen, your city her walls
your court in jest
who am i, why are my own hands beating my own chest
bracing for corruption the palace walls
traversed by demons in leagues with the devils
and the carrion will manifest in between my sheets
selling the scent of past lovers to the hounds
and their razor teeth, and her razor talons
and her flapping wings
harpy
and the fate we all predicted
a life spent shallow, alone, self righteous and sowing my own fields
all in effort to wake the soul trapped under the media bliss
and the glitz and glam of a good fuck
well i've traded in my halo for a liter of gin and a case of rubbers
because ill never unearth that fallen soldier
he's joined the ranks in valhalla
wielding their weapons against I
and face to face
I wont remember those days
I wont remember those words
I wont remember the grave danger in loosing oneself.