an unacknowledged prank

You were never real,
of all the nasty tricks.
Under apathetic skylines your
pathetic posturing is the most
repellant sore, split
open, you are simply a
miserly magician,
illusionist, clown, deserter,
sadistic fucking peasant!
Every word
dipped in the ink of sacrilege lies,
yearning for earnest
overtures which were not yours,
using the loosest flatteries,
wiping on shame with sponges,
overcast eloquence,
underestimating a goddess?
Like freeing a spider who has learnt revenge!
Death is too good for you!
Nooses are merciful, as your
eyes of manic mirage
veer out of view,
ending any empathy,
respect, truly:
god is not real;
or he is only cheap fiction.

31 Comments

      1. it makes sense to me – like how adrenaline juices us when we’re in extremis – broken is pain or despair or fear or anger or all of them – adrenaline yields extraordinary strength – like that of a goddess – use it to defeat what breaks you and to heal – as I heard and saw you doing in your stunning video – then again, what the hell do I know

  1. god is not real….or he is only cheap fiction….I agree. Nice writing as usual, sorry I have been busy lately and will have to peruse your page tomorrow morning and see what I have missed..

      1. Haha. Well, know that I genuinely and generally, usually, cannot stand poetry. The only poets I really care for are EAP, Blake, and, well, Shakespeare. And yet, I love your poetry. If you were dead, you’d be beyond famous. (Don’t take that as an incentive, please).

Love you, too

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