Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Wretched Futility

Blog post # 225:
(225 = 3*5*5*3 = 15*15.)

Strangely External

Vindictive Temptation

Defiance Refuted


An anagram:

Cylinders coil.
Ids only circle.


Two poems, written yesterday and today:

Asinine Death

Death is weirdly wrapped
about my torment.
And its evil dream encases me,
permeates me.
But I will soon die and fail.
I will be
Vanquished from all
transcendence. Yet
Asinine death will be
my violation. In this
Rape, I will be eviscerated
by every obscenity.
And virtue will betray me,
quite. Death,
However, will be
my enslavement. It is
To become its hatred
for me, for us. And
It will destroy us
and our purposes, yes.
Oh, death is the victor
of our destiny.
It is the damnation
we fear and the
Futility we vindicate.
Ah, death is
Its sicknesses and its poisons
each implied
By the extremes of
our ignorance. And its
Triumphs are eternal;
its temptations
Are fluid within our corpses;
its injustices
Are insistent and hideous
and nihilistically rotten.


Wretched Geometries

Wretched geometries
enshroud my thoughts,
Then they puncture me sadly.
But they demand
My fear, and they
deceive my suffering.
Yet in their negation,
they are conjured.
But such shapes never
refute their denial.
They surely endure
that calm, however. Ah,
Those wretched geometries
are my suicide.
They are my
meaninglessness maligned. Yes,
I am only inferior within them.
I am
Their illusion and
their stupidity both
Soon to repulse me
amorphously, defiantly.



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