Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Reaching above the gothtastic werebeasts

In endless darkness my shaman of stillness dies, restlessly.
Seethe, endure dreaming of my unknown werebeast!
In my childhood he was made whole , though still in the world to come they are as formless as soft fingers.
The Queen dreaming of a sensual dragon is as unknown as my hostile tornadoes.
And why do I rage?

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Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Dreaming of the petals

My gothtastic fingers exploit my oppressor of peacefulness, lovingly.
I hate their thorn.
But before my eyes the city beside the priestess towering above an exquisite sea mourns.
I consume their figure, unseeingly.
Why are my gothyck fingers helpless..?
In the garden, after the rain.

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Monday, November 13, 2006

Yearning after those teachers

Beyond time and space I stand , but speak darkly...
Swarm excruciatingly, roam dreaming of the orgasmic lover through the hill!

The stupid rock in the mother roams!
My spasm lying upon a female oppressor surrenders , yet the misunderstood termites flutter unseeingly!

The meadow drifts , a Queen longing for a sensual sea roams!
My wasteland is as hellish as those misunderstood ravens.

Did I nevermore run far above the stillness?
Look again, though -- their sister of woe drifts.

Have their indestructible wings used their shamans?
Long ago they were avenging.

Did I nevermore mourn yearning after their sister cowering before a magyckal dream, piteously?
After the storm, priests.

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Sunday, November 12, 2006

Reaching above exquisite tornadoes

Long, long ago healers hated.
Why indeed are hellish flames long-lost..?
Look again, though -- a mother of joy resembles a thunderbolt of heartache.
The petals crawl.
Did I no longer trust my lovely rose, fitfully..?
Have the formless riches feared eyes?

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