Take and tear, the sweetest flower to rend: Releasing the sweet smell of nectar. Not one can compare to your scent, No synthetic, nor natural flower. Now I, not the same: Relentlessly dour. The ugly duckling, the shameless lamb unblent. Face pale, body weak, decrepit spectre. Take me broken; my passion to mend. When the … Continue reading #134 – La flor
Being the Stalag edition it has some very simple English mistakes which can be easily excused by the fact it was translated in bulk by one German officer who knew English. It may be worth someone combing through this edition just to correct that as many of the mistakes are simple typos like misspellings of … Continue reading Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler, Stalag Edition, book review
Education, university, study's time has come. A warm, disgusting, poured Guinness, Cheap drinks, cheap company, To blacken your character and piss. Darkened room, shining light from the door, Sleepless nights, singing at odd hours. Over hearing the screams of a whore. This time, this path is ours. Emotional breakdowns, The tears that flow. For now … Continue reading #133 – Student
Beautiful, but sad nose Which I want to kiss. And influences me to write prose, Just like those delicious lips. Naked, without clothes The beauty oozes like nectar drips. The bareness shows, And the nakedness: my lover's hips.
Flying freely: the gates to heaven are now barred. How that sweet, holy place from me shall be apart. Hell is not a place, nor punishment due. Hell is within, and carried within one's heart. Heaven is the height from which I was threw, Heaven is the heart that denies me and you.
A profundity the mantra is bringing; Which can also be found in silence. Prolonged speech peppered with breathing, Raising everything but the voice's violence After sound: Silence rings. Stable and steady: Intimately bound. Never raising the voice to sing. Repeat the scriptures Repeat the lines. Progressing with pictures, Delving into profundity's mines. No longer any … Continue reading #130 – Mantra
So I speak A prayer true that reeks: Praise the almighty For sparing me. Not of the flames, nor of the fire, Not even passion which insatiably reaches higher. But, from heaven itself and the gate within which they dwell. Because for me, heaven would be my hell.