Fallen Ideas
By Malcolm Unge
Part I
Blood
Or the weird tales of Madness
Blessed are the sinners
Cursed are the children of slaughter
hallowed are the mad prophet
impious are the Herdsmen
dead are the thoughts
living are the dreams
Blood
blood stained on my chamber door
blood smattering at my cracked window
knocking and howling
‘how do you do?’
crazy witches in their hollows of agony
screaming and bellowing melancholic lullabies for dead and numb babies
prisoners of justice comes out from jail, guns ablaze.
silver moonbeams shines upon them while they maim their already broken heart
filled with dark sorrows and of hate
the crazy witches come nearer for every second
their eyes are but slits in leathery faces
slits of pain and of anguish
a whip lashes their back, while flames erupts from their twisted eyes of death
unhinged laughs echoes between the claustrophobic walls of madness
deep voices of the night chanting inside and outside sanity
the man with no mouth chanting horrible hymns through his shattered nose
crooked crows caw
thunder is ablazing with thunderous velocity
great sledgehammers smash the wall of sanity
wind whistle by your emptiness
the shining sun is now long forgotten
an empty space of darkness emerges
“wise” men praying to their fake god
what is god?
god illusion
god is but a illusion for the weak
dark clouds gather around the mountains
the blood rains have now ceased
leaving a trail of death and rebirth behind them
deformed creatures roaming the world
the atoms of the world vibrates and crumble
the balance between the four elements is broken
fire and water erupts from the skies and the underground
great chasms of the human mind
dead newborns crawling from the chasm
explosions shatters the human world
projectiles of superstitious lies
still night
same nightmare
life?
Crazy man
‘they’re stealing our jobs our women our children
send ‘em back to whence they came from’
his influence has spread around the world
nationalism and patriotism is the modern day plague
poisoning our blood and rotting our brains
superstitious and religious views decay our bodies
but take heed somewhere this has already happened
The madman
the madman who bought a life
slowly getting used to the idea of living a worthless life
the toxic rain falls upon an old life in a dark and stormy myriad of clouds
dry cracked lips whispering to anyone who would not listen
devilish chatter exploding in the noisy silence
the fourth is always best says the crooked man
with a sneer and continues to think about his economy
the value of life is now less than the value of gold
the madman enters the world where the crooked man lives in a house of gold
rambling and throwing his weight around in search of a real life worth living
acts of madness and fighting encourages him
school has never been his greatest achievement
horrific eyes following his footsteps
pointing and laughing at his silly walk
A man in a painting screaming at him and offering him a job in jail
the sun is nowhere to be seen
still the heat is torture
faceless prisoners of loneliness sobs and cry
nearly dead saints ascend to the sky
to a great vacuum of nothing
a limbo of madness and fears
old man is slowly becoming a name on a tombstone
no one has heard or seen him for a while
he might even be dead
worms of calamity eating through his sorrows
birds with beads for eyes pecks his lonely heart
the broken voices of his soul disappear and flies away
slaves under the madness rumbling around
pillars of eternity lights up his path
his pathetic excuse for a life is soon over
the madman has discovered The Valley of Madness
weary eyes are floating on flying clouds
strange hieroglyphs written all over the world
telling tales of heroes who defied their minds and broke loose from sanity
Here lies A Madman
died too late
will not be missed
Jailbreak
Guns ablaze get up you scum
policemen with too big batons and too small faces
shouting at stillborns for being too still
children will go to heaven don’t worry about them
doing charity work is now illegal and not acceptable
crazy vicious rabid dogs and the children of tomorrow are no more
banks are just evil and inhuman
the capital of the richest economy is growing
cool winds sweep through the night
people howling for forgiveness and solitude
tears of blood tumbling down a dead cheek
human life is not as important as capital
cycling through forbidden words
cut to a scene where everyone and nobody are happy
scared and scarred by life and death
a castle appears from nowhere
blurry banners billowing in the rough winds
there’s the prison director who is too blind to see
his own prejudices
wrinkly old men with sad eyes and twisted hearts
trying not to laugh at dwarfed people with funny walks
the guards are toying around with lethal weapons
beating on innocent people who have done something/nothing wrong
roll up your sleeves and get to work in their filthy minds
‘just wanted to thank you for being free
you know I am a prisoner of my own mind
singing crazy melodies with the moon
take care and get drowned’
Sincerely your friend The Crooked´
Living nightmare
the empire of madness slowly destroying sanity
faceless men staring into a dark chasm
laughing at the monkeys and leprechaun who have entered the battlefield
yet they have failed to eat your face
quick read quick fix
rusty broken eyes
seeing the unseen.
Nightly Complaints
I am driven by greed
To conquer and succeed
I tried to seek God
But i found that my prayers were flawed
I am driven by desire
To quench this funeral pyre
I tried to find beauty
All I found was a whore off duty
I am driven by hunger
To aid my strive to get younger
I tried to gain fame
It turned out that i was part of a con game
I am driven by my pen
To satisfy the wise men
I tried to write them a verse
It seemed that I made it worse
Dawn of the demented men
In bleak November a new age began
the monks and wise men of yore tore their heart out
sorrow shadowed their dry eyes
dried their blood
poisoned their brain
exhausted their moral like a dying flame from the eternal fire that burns in every heart
voice of reason forgotten by the wise men of Faith
greed and lust replaces the old god
men without eyes praying at the well of wealth
the spirit of life condemn and condole
whilst the lawman and the vicar share a drink
The tempest
dying embers of the fire in the sea of blood
ash blowing up the alley of plutonic waters
eyes filled with sorrows gazed at me
the pallid stars of the Kingdom of the sky wept
atomic priest shouted that the end was nigh and that everyone of us were sinners
Long this phrase echoed between the cliffs and the divine towers of the world
the birds hurried into The Tempest looking nervously over their shoulders
mushroom clouds against a velvet sky
the beautiful flowers of Eden slowly decaying into darkness
motions in the dark
the last attempt of fleeing from the Tempest
Hark a whistle blowing melancholic in the furious storm
a grim and gaunt face overlooking the fields
smiles and say
“The ferry has arrived”
the new world arises
twisted ideologies rises again
hate and blood flow through the streets
all hail to the new leader with old and forgotten (forbidden) thoughts
throw the media and other who oppose the new leader into prison
execute the weatherman because he spreads propaganda about the mysterious Weather
say and think whatever you want but keep in mind that some thoughts are forbidden
the dark cloud of death and despair flies over the known world
freedom of speech is now a long forgotten tale of yore
sad eyes shed tears upon empty graves filled with loneliness
burning flags wavering over scorched earth
cries of sorrow fills the vacuum known as Life
conversation with melancholy
freezing winds over a gloomy landscape
worthless conceptualizations uttered in fear
myriads of glittering phantasms peered into staggering minds
judging and ridiculing every sign of weakness
contempt faces looking down at the souls of humanity
the annexing hands of Loneliness touching the soul of the innocent
producing the shape of mankind
lifeless eyes stare into the lucid void of empty space
frowning at cheerfulness and cannot understand happiness
Hymn to autumn or the absurd existence of man
Dying leaves shattered over frozen ground
the wind roar and the world tremble
twilight of the sun is nigh
Ludicrous faces greets each other with laughable smiles
Rotten trees rustle and whimpers
Heavy clouds collides with the vanity of man
causing man to reconcile its pointless existence in a sunken sea of equally fatuous creatures possessed by angst and terror of a greater god who desires human sacrifice
Rustling of the wind
Slender shadows creeping by the outskirts of dismay
abysmal lights hovering across the realm of light
imperceptible footsteps over shallow graves
demented drums resounding over the moors
the creatures of the night so vile
gather for a hunt of Blood
blabbering unknown and ominous mantras
grimacing at the dying sun and its slaves
smiling at the four horses of the apocalypse
embracing the soft and tender face of the drowned maid
the aphasic god beneath the sky dreams of the destruction of man
Hymn to love
meet someone laugh and smile
share thy fears and hearts
think alike no diversity in thought
love each other with the passion of the fiercest demon
but remember that love is an illusion happiness is just a lie
do not lie to each other of course thou think of others
the girl at the counter smiles and laughs at thy pathetic drollery
jealousy grows in the soon bursting heart of misery
fighting over nothing erupts
slamming doors, crying eyes
life starts to feel worthless and laughable after a while
‘the darkness has poisoned my veins
My now black blood shall soon flow with the blood of lovers
together in all eternity’
Slumber of the aeons
dead stars shines gloomy across the empty void of life
clear blue strokes of the sky burning
odor of the noxious ideology of extinct men
corrupting the mind of the moon
causing the tide to rise to the skies
wet jungle tempts the daring and frightens the coward
the unseen god smiles with rotten teeth
welcoming the spectre and the tempter to its very soul
the great thirst crave sacrifices of the fire
through the mountain of madness
Horrible truth
Deep into the realm of oblivious truth
Lies the new horizon and the dusk of man
old memories forgotten by the new generation
blind eyes screaming of acrimony
cursed by the vanity of existence
tormented by the stakes of Eternity
loneliness is the redemption of the soul
happiness is but a facade worn by simple men
the almighty god have been killed by its followers
the oppressed
slaves under the masters abide their chains
whilst their masters laugh at the misery
lash the backs of the worker with the whip of power
the slaves mutters and murmurs of agony
punishment and execution awaits the unruly one
the revolution gets crushed and the leader is now the royal laughingstock
children of oppression endure their fate
soon the chains will be broken by the fate of many
House of Fun
the cold and unforgiving night has swallowed the day
uncertain shadows tread the earth
all the windows are closed shut
the dark sky spews a cascade of rain at the windowsill
spectres roaming the mind of the Lonely
red velvet sweeps the attic
remaining memories echoes through the hallway
bleak sunshine explodes the twilight
children baptised in blood by fire draws obscure figures
within the ominous angle and the furious vertex
yellowed memoirs rots behind a cloak of dust
mild laughter blends with thousands of tears
the moon so pallid shines upon the floor like the Sepulchre
its white tint reflecting untold sorrows
abrupt melancholic euphonies followed by dead air
swift motions reveals poisoned waters
decayed tapestries tells horrible tales
footsteps dances with the dust of generations.
Death by thought
enslaved population by consensus
thinking all the same the dissolvent of disagreement is nigh
in the void harkened by the masses
eroding the fundamentals of mankind
spreading radiation around thy soul
creeping fingers caress dead thoughts
Holding on to them like leeches on drowning men
mankind is the process and final form of destruction.
Hymn to Time
Two in the morning the world is burning
the temptation of flesh has poisoned the water
holy sinners is now holy saints
the saints descends and become ruffians
stars exhausted by hate glowing with neon light
at cockrow the gale harden
whistling forests glittering with hungry eyes
enter the realm of sleep
the Herdsmen leads the herd into the empire of Dawn
weird creatures without the Touch Of The Gods
looming around when the sun dies
footsteps in the snow disappear when the sun is newborn
echo in the break of dawn of forgotten Gods
The City
cast upon a damp rock within the Sea of Souls
lies the eternal city of sunken stone
drowned men wail at their patriarch
crying out sorrow for the lost Sunken Kingdom
forlorn clinging on the dreams of madness
grotesque idols of ancient Gods worshipped
dreary peons praying for the death of nothing
gelid blizzards numbing the limbs of noxious men
burned banners waving over the madman’s dwelling
constructions of vanity looming against the eternal mist
beating heart devours the flame of darkness
the children are forced to the market
among the rope dancer and the crippled beggar
who laugh at the Little things
thralls chant eldritch psalms
forgotten by the living parish
monotone flutes played by the mad dryads
honoring the God of insanity
N’ygh judges the sane.
The Gods
the dark void of emptiness
burning chasms spews hatred
abysmal existence flourishing
aeons died by the hands of vanity
furious wrath thrown
upon the macrocosm
futile whispers of faith in the absurd night
hark the strident voices of the vehement gods
weird landscape carved in eroded limestone
depicting gods with bodies of mildew
enrobed in decadent twills of cotton
commanding armies of decayed drudges
slaying men of the Light burning their towers
boats across the river of blood
drifting in the harsh wind
arrows of the eternal flame
bound for the wrongdoers
the nefarious herdsman compelling its herd
righteous fury upon the sinful sanctimonious
The pandemic
sickness spreading among the herd
physicians laughing at the misery
furious leaders screaming in chorus
the worthless orchestra of empty dreams crying
over the masses who oppose the punishment
the aphasic child wreaks havoc upon its chimera
a wraith of paranoia dividing the men and the women
mirrors reflecting society and its discontents
hierarchy among the leaders and their ersatz
celestial storms over the outpost of the world
the flesh of sinners rots in the unholy Temple of Discord
battle of sins
burning corpses shattered
upon the meadow of dreams
billowing banners of faith
encouraging the madness of slaughter
antediluvian clerics preaching about war
death poisons the holy river
goblets of life filled by the poisoned water
the innocent skivvy drinks and die
a myriad of graves upon the wailing heath
the chaotic aureole chimes with fury
pious bellwethers choking on the sacred loot
soldiers sacrificed for the holy sins
Kermoros
thunder blasting through the sky
dark clouds of annihilation gathering
curse of vanity cast upon the drudges
roaring waves invading the shores
sanity in disarray of thoughts
wrongdoers thrown into the eternal sea of fire
broken mirrors reflecting reality
smattering trumpets sounding over the land
dreary drums played by peons
staring into the expanding dark
starry eyed prophets chanting
wraiths of yore wandering damp halls
blind scribes signing accursed decrees
read by the crooked and the twisted
Opulent lies
crystals of ice gleaming through the lavish branches
of the tree of forgotten wisdom upon the dome of vanity
intrepid men yearning for absolute knowledge and sagacity
tales of love and happiness told by alluring versifiers
prophets from faraway inspire and encourage the loving
sumptuous clothing weaved by the captives of dreams
worn by arrogant leaders smothering themself with fake veracity
voice of insurrection unified against the martinets in power
soft voices whispering in deaf ears about civil unrest
plates clatter and cannikins shatter in the roaring chaos
clerics of yore preaching about clemency in the oubliettes
mute worshippers nod and smile at the blessing they are given
peasants taking up arms killing their masters and their followers
golden sun radiates the bloodied soil of the latest skirmish
horses carrying lifeless men tramples the unbeaten path
to eternal rest
the standard of the downtrodden burning in the horizon
The war
Sworn by the oath of blood
baptised in fire by Night
raging storms eroding the holy sites
fallen knights imprisoned in the fortress of Thought
fog arises from the swamps surrounding the captives
hearken the screams and the holler of the defiance of death
contemptuous lords ruling over feeble villages
pillaging and raping the flourishing lands
captivated by the necessary evil forgets repentance
the northern light dances upon the shard of blue
old men gazing at the miracle gasping for air
the thunderstorm of hooves echoing against the sunrise
proud soldiers smiling as they pass by burning settlements
the horns of war scaring the lambs before the slaughter
no salvation is viable for the sons of doom
cawing ravens feeds and fatten on the burned corpses
peace treaties broken and spat on.
Part II
New Poetry
Or verses from the soul
Overture
The sun set high upon the moor
shines upon thy soul so pure
my longing for thy love deject
a bird of loneliness at my heart peck
a cloak of solitude shades my heart
I wish I would soon depart
my love for thou inflame me
from the shackles I wish to break free
summer turns to eternal winter
as beautiful as the sun of Midwinter
thy lips so divine upon my cheek so weak
bird once again appears blood on its beak
the moon radiates and leaves tremble
thunder exploding the silence my love resemble
lullabies lulls the starry sky and its stars
thy love for me is but yellowed memoirs
shade of Sorrow shadows my soul
thy death I sincerely condole
in Eternity my soul may live
towards death I strive
without thou my life seem futile
Hark! Furious smatter from the Bugle
fingers of fear embrace my mind
the Adjudicator’s verdict signed
declined from the heavenly grace
never again shall I see thy face.
Garden of the lost Bride
I sat by thy fire
passion among the gunfire
upon thee hill lies my heart
ridiculed like some upstart
you who have lain with common men
cherish my soul and tell me amen
mourn my body and cry a wet tear
before you I slowly appear
kneel and bow before me I said
by the poisoned rainbow we wed
compel my hatred with your body
sing my song and tell my story
buried in the desert of the Holy Land
amongst the souls eternally damned
followed by a flurry of dust
thy voice crack with lust
beggars wept and the charlatans smiled
our mistress of solitude is with child
the Rose withered and died
a Goblet of age poisoned the hallowed Bride
thy soul eternally purified
in this Garden of the lost bride
Our serpent
Our Serpent told thousands of fables of yore
tales about the soothsayer and the whore
high upon his crumbling altar
the holy flame falter
Our Serpent sung hundreds of hymns
songs about the man who devors limbs
deep into his silent shrine
drink this holy wine
Our Serpent confessed but one sin
one sin about the darkness within
down in his sunken palace
drinking from the holy chalice.
Prisoner (of love)
You wore happiness like a dream
the lie bursting at its seam
Shrill laughter and dry tears
consulting a mirror broken for many years
take this vow and please be brave
let me be your master and you my slave
let us drink to those free from love
let the vulture catch the dove
rip at its throat and empty its veins
ne’er shall you be free from these chains
The brother
Many years have I wandered now
banished from where I plow and sow
ignore my love and cover my idol
followed by my swine like some bridal
Procession of the cursed
The son of the first
Nought would grow on his arable
He wouldn’t listen to the parable
blood spilled upon the sacred soil
secrets unearthed beneath its voile
teach me solitude and pain
scorn me with a voice of disdain
I grab my shovel and begin my work
wash my face in that charred crique
hours have passed and the sky is gone
I pray to my mistress of dawn
this city built upon guilt and sorrow
destroyed to ruins by the morrow
Solitude
I saw a mistress of solitude
her voice filled with intense lewd
O queen of Sorrow hold me
heed my desperate plea
Do not cherish me so much did she reply
drink my love and fill my cup with rye
bring me your master´s love
from the tower of longing like some weathered dove
your blood through my veins
shackle me to your love and bound me with chains
Your beauty inflamed me
when you touched my soul like a escapee
Forget the poems written by the ugly rhymist
whilst we reach for the highest
The fire against the water reflected in your eyes
while the raven and the vulture dies
The troubled poet
The only sound is of the dying phone
perched upon my lonely throne
reading your scars like a chart
scattered dreams woven like art
some say that I am chosen other say I am not
my confessions scribbled on some yellowed jot
telling tales about great deeds and of death
Do not look at me like that do not draw your breath
yes I know that I am ugly and cruel
yet you dance to my voice like a fool
walk away if you can not stand me
know that you are bound to me by a royal decree
the silver of the razor blade shines in your hand
burn the bushes and cut the trees in the Holy land
are you tired of this massacre the shy poet said
am I the forsaken one he asked on his deathbed
while you danced to my voice and laughed at my face
Mistress of Babylon
You came upon this shadow of the world
the flower of your heart unfurled
where all the people frowns at gold
stutter upon the threshold
what did you do with the love I sent
did you bury it in a crypt made of cement
your trembling hand upon the Truest Book
dare not to give the massacre a quick look
while you dance like some mistress of Babylon
Your body fades the dawn
The girl who smoked a Cigarette
auburn against the dawn
with the eyes of a fawn
Your hair smelled of smoke
My love for you is a joke
among your people I am alone
questions answered with a groan
awkward glances and a loose handshake
was I the angel or the lying snake
The stranger
Well look here I got no friends
The stranger said with a smile
studying his life through a dirty lens
He stayed for a long while
Rousse
I met a girl with gold red hair
trying to catch the drifting air
she said I was so very young
in her kind tongue
many men have loved her
bringing her praise and myrrh
I am ridden by a curse she said
with a voice filled with dread
it is eating me I am rotten
no love is ever forgotten
thus she spoke in the dead of night
she was truly a sight
one man did she love
solemn as a mourning dove
she showed him her work
frightened he turned away with a jerk
haunted by her curse
she wrote many a verse
about the monster within
And about the beauty that had once been
clad in her sorrow
she invited him on the morrow
the girl with gold red hair
trying to catch the drifting air
No love did she get in return
quickly she learned to yearn
Many a night did she still miss him
Looking at the starless night with a sad grin
(I wrote this for a girl I met one warm summer’s night)
Memories from a war
Flash the silver blade
show me the price you paid
show me the scars you got
bring me your rot
bring me your life
cut me with your knife
tell me of the sacrifice
and of the squeaking mice
show me the men that fell
the names you never can tell
burn me with thy fire
untangle me from the brier
scream my name over the gunfire
this is not what my country desire
The oracle
he saw the beauty of our dreams
and his dried tears flowed in streams
over the sins and crimes we committed
wondering how our love ever been permitted
he told us that he was so very tired
sadly he was no longer required
killed by the unforgiving herd
he forced the valued bird
to feed and to eat his master’s lies
and thus he took to the red skies
leaving the serpent and the garden
as if this was his way to pardon
the love that never should allowed
dead in its torn wedding shroud
Lust
your beauty tasted by many men
even by me every now and then
Do you ever remember me
in my tower to where only you own the key
ring the bell and shout my name
open the door and follow the flame
search for my forlorn soul
fill my cracked bowl
with your salt tears
lead me upstairs
but why should you care
you who couldn’t spare me a prayer
my letters never read or looked at
thrown upon your hallway mat
Notes on the political situation 2018
Part I
left everyone is wrong (am I right?)
say whatever you want but not that
discussions transformed into lethal combat
everyone is oppressors except you
authority respects and protect only the blue
accuse your opponents of hating and hate them
rally the troops and sound the drum
you are a saint because you have the right ideas
all hail the Leader and sing his blues
you have the right opinion I have the wrong
expressed in a comment or a song
it does not matter if it was a joke
you already sense the smoke
rally the soldiers and give me hell
summon the minions from the place where they dwell
ruin the life of the one you do not agree with
consensus is a not a forgotten myth
Part II
right you must be this way because you look that way
why must you ruin this flag day
surely you are a terrorist look at your beard
well you are certainly not one of us you are weird
where do you come from are you born in a camp
we are a civilised country do not dress like a tramp
do not pray to that god we have our very own
what happened to our revered free zone
look at us we are the forgotten ones
at least let us keep our sacred guns
it is written in the scripture in its holy might
one might even claim it is our birthright
seems like we are a minority now
all because the elite with its know how
we do not want to brag
but god bless our flag
Part III
no one is right
let them fight
while the beauty is in the word
Beautiful like some extinct bird
Lonely thoughts
As night grew still
Swallow the poison pill
flash your rusty razor blade
my sadness is man made
even the news reporter laugh
as he shows us a photograph
of the broken and the dead
their faces black with dread
he welcomed a deaf nurse
who said I was much worse
the audience said I deserved to die
claimed that my talent was a lie
That I was some crazy loon
My only friend the lazy moon
cloaked in his decayed smile
dripping with guile
I screamed at the man with the news
he claimed that it was the jews
and told me the end was nigh
I just said goodbye
Lady of the river
She was lost in the waves
silent as shallow graves
Her laugh a sudden dream
turned into a lonely scream
I saw her atop the mountain
drinking from the sacred fountain
crazy like some warmonger
killing a lamb just to satiate her hunger
there is blood upon her hands now
´my love never aimed for thou´
a raven perched upon her shoulder
she looked so much older
take away my moral
sing a banned choral
she is the light that hails the dawn
where have your light gone?
Hitler and Stalin
where are Hitler and Stalin
the idols of the fallen
show me their remains
among the chaos and the trains
touch the sacred mind
so very unkind
now bring out the thought police
oh damn their justice of peace
waving happily from their tower
strong applause for their power
never stop lest you want to die
even if you know it is a big lie
so I ask again
where are the traitors
disguised as our lovely leaders
Drowning in their glasses of champagne
Hönö-18
In these chains I am bound
among the drunk and the drowned
this house is my prison
why tell me have the sun arisen
confined to this solitude
anger menacingly brood
over this very isle
this truly is a trial
do not speak a word
can someone kill the bird
angry stares and heavy sighs
arguments grows in size
situation getting worse
I damn this wretched curse
Longing for the week to end
departure seems like a long awaited friend
note- written on the island of Hönö August 4-5th -18
The monster unmasked
If you seen my face you can’t love my soul
I learned that fate was out of our control
Do not draw aside the veil lest you want to see my face
The nausea and horror come apace
is this my secret you asked?
is this your monster unmasked?
I tried to show my plead
You only saw my greed
I am a communist you exclaimed
But your state is broken and maimed
murdered by sins committed by my words
carried out by dark birds
You burned my ships and shot the dove
carrying promises and lies about my love
Liberation of the soul
am I just your fool
one to torture oh so cruel
am I only your laughingstock
one you could so easily mock
disguised in false words of affection
adding my soul to your vile collection
you showed me your stunning grace
and laughed when I showed my face
do you remember me
can my soul ever be free
from the beauty I adore
was I just a fragment of lore
The ramblings of the madman
I dreamt about a man
he screamed like some madman
about the arabs and the jews
he yelled about the wonderful abuse
of all that are sick and those who are well
and god and the devil were rotting in a cell
he even mentioned that he knew the answer
about death and even how to cure cancer
everything has its price he said with a grin
while he pushed me to a burning inn
this is your life and this is where you will die
no need for a priest or a rabbi
I have already sold my soul
to the murderer on parole
he paid me in gold and praise
The politician repeats his old phrase
A beggar came to me with a mug
I told him that greed was a drug
He yelled for the law
People screamed to kill the bourgeois
I was among them
Beating on the great war drum
Several men died for our cause
The enemy was dressed like Santa Claus
Bread crumbs of the poor in his beard
All the gifts that he so highly revered
Burned with the rest of his lies
The torture went clockwise
First the weak and then the strong
the executioner hummed along to a folk song
And my arm went numb holding the fist of unity
Trying to keep chaos away from my community
A poem to a girl I know
Don’t try to please me
In a voice cracked with false glee
You know I hate petty words
Even if they are spoken from pretty eyes
I will not be fooled by your praise
My heart will not be set ablaze
By your words ever so sweet
Your kindness truly is your greatest feat
I told you not to apologise for naught
Revising everything you ever have been taught
Just so that we could compare our pain
You are bound by this heavy chain
Of charity and of duty
You tried to break free but found no beauty
In your chaotic mother lack of visible emotion
That you tried to seek through hours of devotion
You tried to be pleased
But the pressure never eased
Messiah of the fallen
This is the darkness my friends
Written by the poet with broken pens
His head spun with ideas of a saviour
Clad in his sorrows and covered by velour
Oh where can be this Messiah of the fallen be
He said that he died for us but not for thee
Baptised in the fragrance of our sin
That is written with blood on our skin
Oh kill this broken man
Is this a testament to your master plan
Kneeling by his heavy burden
Waiting for his eternal guerdon
Nightly Complaints
I am driven by greed
To conquer and succeed
I tried to seek God
But i found that my prayers were flawed
I am driven by desire
To quench this funeral pyre
I tried to find beauty
All I found was a whore off duty
I am driven by hunger
To aid my strive to get younger
I tried to gain fame
It turned out that i was part of a con game
I am driven by my pen
To satisfy the wise men
I tried to write them a verse
It seemed that I made it worse
Ode to Joan of Arc
Her love so highly sought after
Seduced by a lover´s laughter
Untouched by the burden of repentance
She could hardly finish a whole sentence
Applauses and cries at the words she spoke
Many men wanted her to uncloak
The dress of solitude and pride
Glowing like some lamb’s bride
A sword glistened by her hip
Worn like a slave whip
She claimed she was a knight
Her skin so very white
I am chosen by the Lord she said
Praying to the living and to the dead
Outside the castle walls
and through halls
But no one would believe in her task
And those who did were to afraid to ask
Burn this woman the townsfolk cried
She has cheated us and lied
Upon the stake she burned
But the peasants never learned
That she was indeed called upon
Now she resides in a world with no dawn
now She sits besides a man with a golden crown.
Desire
I touched your beauty
Like some officer on duty
I kissed the innocence from your lips
like some poet that searched for his scripts
Many men wanted to meet you
especially those who felt a little blue
you tended to their bodies and hearts
Read their veins like forgotten charts
We never knew you just your body
You smiled and embraced everybody
Rejoiced at our laughter and cried for our tears
you just told us to go to upstairs
broken by your desire
you sold yourself to every buyer
The famed beauty long gone
used by every man with a hard on
/
Conversation with Solitude
Oh why can you not see me
When will my longing be free
broken by wild desire
Burning like greek fire
My voice scarcely a whisper
With the authority of a lisper
Trying to sound shrewd
But it just sounds crude
Thy eyes elsewhere
Ignoring my prayer
Maybe thou did not hear it
I ought to quit
On the election -18
Myths of meaning
reason is slowly dying
Is the media left leaning
Or is the jews occupying
Free speech is omitted
Everything is allowed
Nothing is permitted
Do not be proud
Scream the highest
Bash the foe
Surely he is biased
That subject is a big no
She is a traitor
This country is mine
I am not a hater
Spill your red wine
Last words
I have no pride
She softly said
Discussing suicide
On her withered deathbed
She has gone bitter
Tethered to her own despair
Long lost from gay chitter
Take your sorrow elsewhere
Death by Greed
As the man preached on the hill
And the desert night grew still
A lady with blood on her gown
The wind rustled her hair and tilted her crown
Took my hand and led me to the flood
And told me that I was overflowing with blood
Her words clear in the cold gale
Her body so very pale
The blue lips trembled
Her dress loosely assembled
stained by sour wine
As she made her way to the shrine
I killed our lord she cried
For my lust and desire he died
Wash this blood from my hands she prayed
See to that my sins finally fade
A poet´s creed
During the light I cry
During the dark I write
The people are passing by
Wandering into the unknown night
A poet´s creed II
Take this verse
Read the words
It might be a curse
Like the disease of dead birds
Renew my love
Your beauty caught my eyes
entangled me in a cloud of smoke
Your words absent of lies
When you gracefully spoke
Your body against my waning fire
Your laughter against my solitude
Nourishing my burning desire
Your beauty everyday renewed
The tale of a broken girl
Everybody knew your name
It is all over the filthy street
Shouted without shame
Men prayed at your feet
For forgiveness and for lust
Their sorrow tightly trussed
In your little handbag of desire
You spoke with the tongue of a liar
About happiness that you never tasted
Never about the time you wasted
Or the life you lost
Your fingers crossed
I saw you there
Sorrowful in the town square
Without money or zeal
Too broken to heal
Thoughts at Midnight
can not sleep
can not be awake
can not breath
can not eat
I took the leap
My cruel headache
I danced with death
a sickness I can not beat
I will not speak
I will not feel
I will try
I will drink
I felt weak
There is nothing left to heal
No one has to die
I am the weakest link
Her love too fierce to embrace
Her beauty too striking to face
She is tired of the chase
I am too weak to say her grace
Maybe there is light
beyond the hill
Where the night is still
And the snow is white
The clock struck midnight
No one left to kill
Ensured of her good will
Fearful of her twilight
Periled in her plight
Her scream shrill
The light did her ill
As she struggles against the night
Now she is in flight
She will not return until
Her endless rill
Is frozen into villiaumite
Beauty
Your beauty was a drug
that I used and used
until you suddenly refused
dismissing me with a shrug
Tale of a school
A small country school
That no one knows
Sorrows makes you a fool
Shrouded in the meadows
Sorrows written on the walls
Telling tales of love and abuse
Crying in the deserted halls
No one there to amuse
Snow on the step
Rain on the roof
Make a sidestep
Laugh at the lonely goof
Fire licks the school
Dark clouds of smoke
Looming so cruel
Above the unfunny joke
The lonely poet
Why do I see beauty everywhere
Even in faces scarred by despair
Why can I not please them
They will just think that I am dumb
My pen sets their heart on fire
Why are they not filled with desire
They look at me with pity in their pretty eyes
Why am I the devil in disguise
I am just a lousy writer
Who writes poems on a typewriter
To the ladies I never knew
Those who I never could woo
Bound by tears that I bled
I lie still almost dead
Dreaming of the ones I never got
Scribbling nonsense on a yellow jot
Why will not my desire disappear
There is naught to fear
No one left to love or to hate
This poem is already too late
Prayer (to whom it may concern)
Fire
Eat me
Desire
Leave me
Hate
Dissolve me
Fate
Punish me
Coda
Among the crowd I am alone
Upon the lonely throne
Preaching to the bored
Expecting a reward
Dark words written on a paper
About the sinner and the maker
Covered in crude skin
The pages were too thin
The poet finished what he wrote
A big lump in his throat
This is my work he sighed
For this my darkness has died
poetryatmidnight 