ǝpıs ɹǝhʇo ǝhʇ

Fictitious flagrant
fortune against
the Sky-
dropping moon,
too quick to judge,
too much too soon.

Fortitudinal stony walls,
stand in reticence
denied, enclosed sense
of damning self-maintenance,
Ten commandments,
Seven deadly sins.

It meant nothing:
jawed; jaded; jammed within,
flawed; evaded; slammed; or something.

Attudinal thoughts
spherical; encircling; ellipsing
eclipsing the self-inflicted
virtual virtues conflicted,
then infamously detected,
ignominiously depicted.

Vultures, a mile-high,
smile right, playing eye [I] spy
smelling intense, lack of content
that was not my intent, I’m spent
sacrificing painful delusion,
blood-stained cries and rues of confusion,

precipitating precision in tradition.
Gravely late to naively escape,
ideas collecting dust in a library filled with fake.

Occidental death-trips, traps
cease to exist, narcissistic
inordinance in order to appease
Gods horrific, unrealistic, conductive
reduced to historic hysterics
of rhetoric ballistic and seductive,

selective caressing, just messing,
blaspheming supreme stressing
in surreal peace re-addressing
repressive stagnating blessings,
public contemplations, guessing
revelations and non-stop confessing.

So real. Piece-meal. Kneel.
Feel the steal. Biting deceased steel.
Harassing skin ethereal.

Accidentally rampant
even in the deepest
spirit of being,
rolling words and lines
are really not what they seem,
crushing inside like

spinning tsunami is mami call me ma and I melt, murdering Freudian tempests in Orion’s night-light Belt

I’m dead, in his Hamlet bed,
soliloquies of crazed lunacy bled out instead.
Invisible bodies, shadows, sit and listen, stood and read,
eyes filled with tears of evidently silent silouhetted uttered dread.

Lips lusting for greed, spawn of Satan, feed the freed,
Guilting pleasures of spilling seed in speed.
For what need? Believe dem words dem heed,
Assymetric cyclone, gyaldem heart dem bleed.

2 thoughts on “ǝpıs ɹǝhʇo ǝhʇ

  1. Wow. The despair and drudgery of a very unfair, forced, unjust situation rings out in peals of melancholic screams in this

    Whatever compelled you to write it, seems to have been a harrowing, difficult situation that’s torn you apart. A contest between your way, others’ ways and the RIGHT way, if there is such a thing…

    I hope you’re ok now xx


    1. Thank you for your lovely words, it’s always a pitchfork of a path, never just black and white…grey somehow manages to interrupt the ‘girl, interrupted’ all of course is well! Will try to write happier to cheer thee for next time! xx


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