dark and twisted

I represent
A living proof
That demons still roam the earth

I'm the nightmare
I'm the agony
I'm the unwanted stranger
But I'm just a messenger

Nothing personal
No hard feelings
Except this dark yearning
To hear souls yelling

In excruciating pain
Some often call me a sadist
Well that's a bad name
For a man with this healing therapy

I've come to help the world
Get rid of the excesses
This I do out of love
So fuck your excuses

I've seen civil monsters in suit
Hiding behind the Bureaucracy
Some hide behind books and beliefs
OH thanks to their clemency
The world can be at peace when they will

Me,I don't have that problem
Me,I'm the problem
Me,I'm the fear that's always there
Me,I'm the inevitable end

I happily bring sorrow and mourning
Soul stalker
I watch them through the night
And part them in the morning

I'm the tears in every eye
The dying man's lullaby
For this I was made
To take you all there
To the darkest part of hades

I wake up..
To walls of white
The numbing pain
I feel inside

A scream echoes in my mind
Leaving me to clutch my ears
I can feel the beast clawing inside
Giving birth to a new kind of fear

I can't hold it back
It's got to be let out
There no looking back
I try to shout

No help comes to me
And I am left alone..
The beast inside me
Has found it's way home

Born of fire
As I have said
And I cry in desperation
For blood will be shed

By far not my darkest or craziest poem, but this one I just wrote tonight certainly ranks up there. I call it: Space Graveyard.

- Space Graveyard -

In the void of space, betwixt the lights,
Of stars and planets in their turnings…
There is a place blacker than any nights.
A place of hunger and awful yearnings!
Once a temple where knowledge bore,
To a kindred ancient, secrets like fire…
But it became a husk, a haunted core.
A mockery of its’ builders’ true desire!
Shunned by its’ makers for a millennia.
Opened by none, lest the evils within…
Be loosed once more in a bacchanalia,
Of blood and horrors, beyond any sin.

The rocks of that place are blackened,
And the skies are filled with thunders…
In remembering of what had happened.
How ancients paid for grand wonders!
But they are gone, their doom enacted.
I cannot speak of what befell them all…
But the gods in their terror, so reacted:
Abandoning those ancients to their fall.
If man ever ventures to that graveyard,
Tread carefully, lest you wake ghosts!
For beyond where the gate is barred…
They hunger, seeking fresh living hosts.

Bones of fallen gods lay there in state,
Not in tombs, but where they chose…
For eons, to slumber and to thus wait!
Their sleep, led them to a final repose.
Machines dormant since time’s dawn,
Still hum with the energy that dies not.
They played their parts, like a pawn…
Growing cold with an unborn thought.
How fallen is that domain, from glory!
Pray man finds it not, whilst seeking…
Lest humanity learns the horrid story,
Of what causes the ghosts’ weeping.

And here's something appropriately twisted, from my older poetry. I was thinking a bit about the Joker from The Dark Knight when I wrote this, for a previous contest about killer clowns. It did very well in that contest, so I thought I would share it in this one as well, since it fits the dark theme.

- A Smile Too Broad -
A Parable of Madness

I saw the horrors of the world, and they left me unfazed,
But when the horror came to call, it haunted me for days.
I could not bear the loss I endured, or muster but a grin,
Because I had lost all I loved, and could not smile again.
So in my hand I took a blade and opened my mouth far,
I made my smile far too broad, and left two smiling scars.
Now even frowning it seemed I smiled, my pain to deny,
Until my sanity snapped at last, and I longed only to die!
It only took one bad day to drive me to the distant brink,
One bad day in one awful life, until of it I could not think.

I painted my face to hide what I had done, like a clown…
And oft I noticed on others a scowl, a grimace, or frown.
I could not bear all their sadness; it reminded me of mine,
So I helped them all to smile broadly, a smile for all time!
The blade that once ran across my face, now I used new,
To help others to be happy and make dreams come true.
Perhaps if someone had loved me, I would not be thus…
But now I play the harlequin, a slave to laughter and lust.
I try to tell jokes when I help them, but it makes it worse,
Because I see they cannot laugh, only scream and curse.

Oh, if only love had saved me, they might still have lived,
And I would not have slain myself for I could still forgive!
I tell this tale likely from Hell, where my tears will not fall,
For the smile I carved upon my face is laughing at it all…
Now I am Hell’s jester and I tell jokes to all the damned!
But their screams turn not to smiles even at my command.
Perhaps comedy was not my calling, and tragedy my lot,
But somebody must love me, at least in twisted thought…
For, though damned, I have never been burned in flames.
Hell has a sense of humor, and a need for fun and games!

Dark Sumerian mysticism certainly qualifies. Prepare to enter... The Gate of Ganzir!

-][ The Gate of Ganzir ][-

“Ninnghidzhidda aperi portam Ganzir!
Aperuerit portam, Ninnghizhidda, ego intrare!
Est Draco Imperat tibi!”

Somewhere south of all the courts of the gods on high,
Beneath the mountains where the waterfalls do pour…
Rots the ruins of a city in rubble bleak beneath the sky.
There will wait the siblings, the scorpion lady and lord!
Once golden spires and ziggurats did in splendor reign,
Before the fall of a planet when Marduk vented fury…
Upon the children of the Dragon Queen, prideful, vain.
Now all that endures, is this one-time sacred colony…
To think that once I held a court, amidst the opulence!
But hidden there by the ruins beneath those mountains,
The Cavern of the Gate waits silently in awful patience.
It leads to a land oft watered by netherworld fountains.
Kurnugia, Land of No Return, where the dead dwell…
Amidst shimmering sunken cities, eating dust as bread!
It is but one region of the places men think of as Hell…
And its’ queen, is androgynous Ganzir, Lady of Dread.
Bride of the Dragon of Kur, a dead but dreaming god,
High priest of star-born kin who served older powers!
She reigns alone, in her city beneath the soil and sod…
The bride of the dreamer: who waits for the final hours.

Behold the Gate, and the keeper who waits beyond…
The mistress of the key comes to bring forth the flame!
Go not into the depths darkly shimmering, if ever fond,
Of the azure skies above, which will ne’er be the same.
The Lady of the Wand is like unto a horned serpent…
Gatekeeper of the infernal gods’ own sovereign glories.
She holds dominion, over the seven-portal covenant…
Ninnghidzhidda holds the vigil as writ in the lost stories!
When the dead rise, to smell the incense of life again…
She will place her plumed crown aside, and do naught.
We are the lost ones, from a time before time did gain,
From lands beyond the stars, from ages old as thought.
In the company of bright angels and dark, I did survive,
When the powers of divinities waned and waxed loftily.
Now I pen this verse that the elder histories may thrive,
For the gods are forgetful, and they recall but absently!
They choose not to remember, what they have done…
Which the fallen of old cannot easily forgive: nor forget.
The songs of the ancients I know, for them I have sung,
When they were new, and caused archangels to regret.

When the time is come the Dragon of Kur will awaken,
And the queen who waits, will wait no longer to rise up.
The dead will put aside the dust of which was partaken,
To walk in living flesh again, and from new chalices sup.
The Gate of Ganzir will open and Hell shall be emptied,
As she goes forth to claim those who were ever hers…
Only the faithful of Ishtar would by her malice be pitied.
For those she cannot touch by blessing or by vile curse!
Beware the Gate, beware the seven seals that bind it…
For when the seals are broken, judgment shall soon fall.
On another world the line of the queen ruled fair and fit,
The old blood still lives on in mankind, and cannot stall!
The great old one who slumbers knows man’s thoughts,
And even the warlike Nergal could not seize his palace.
There, Ganzir upon a throne of skulls eternally haunts…
With Lilith, as her messenger: heir, to her infernal grace.
I have walked within their halls, sat upon a vacant seat,
Reserved for the Dragon of Kur alone, an honor grand.
There I was welcomed, so warmly the queen did greet,
One much older, than he who slumbers below her land!

Her short black hair and piercing eyes of mirthless dark,
So like Lilith’s, and pale is their skin like whitest ivory…
Beautiful and alien to behold, in that land strangely stark.
Yet the gardens of that place are unsurpassed in beauty!
Words cannot describe the delights of the Elysian Fields.
That there is paradise even in Hell is proof of some love,
Some compassion, that neither relents, nor ever yields…
Between who reigns below, and those who serve above.
The draconic title was mine of old, and with such bias…
Perhaps, I exalt that which others would soon condemn.
Yet I have stood even in Heaven, seen the seas of glass,
I beheld the source of creation whence all things stem…
And there I found no malice left, ‘twixt angels and devils.
Man alone defines with hatred, as did the deities of yore,
Who exiled we whom they understood not, seeing ills…
Where there was merely a desire, for liberty, once more.
The Gate of Ganzir waits to this day, in its’ hidden realm,
Unseen save by those with the sight, unhindered to flow,
Beyond the ken of mortals: who know not the true ways.
Only illumination can open the paths above and below…
Light beyond the moon and sun, with more blinding rays.

The Voice of Darkness! 'Nuff said.

- The Voice of Darkness -

Part I – Fire and Crucifixion

You could not see the beauty within me, foolish maid,
So jealous were you of the outer beauty you beheld…
Mindless of my ancient soul, of which you were afraid!
Now you shall know why before me the ancients knelt.
It was I, who cast thousands of souls into a wall of fire,
When the volcanoes of Atlantis and other lands flared…
And it was I, who collected their souls in wrath so dire.
In vessels of steel we bore them, to where gods dared!
Were they not of us, and so we saw fit to punish them,
Instilling notions of a hell more awful than we wrought?
It was not I, but: their own sin that did thusly condemn.
You do not realize the mad power of a strong thought!
And in their minds, they crucified themselves so artful…
That the Romans remembered and perfected this way!
Man is the author of countless miseries, as truly awful…
As the doom we imposed, on those souls, on that day.
They could not pull out the nails from their wounding…
For it was their own will that thrust them into the flesh!
The green of their putrefaction, of ravens descending…
Was all in their imagination, and they suffered it afresh.

Part II – Darkness Incarnate

They became twisted wraiths, no longer as they were,
Seeking to possess the bodies of the living once again.
For they could not die, though they lived ne’er more…
And so like demons of a true hell they swiftly became!
Those sons of Theta, who could ne’er forget their fate,
Passing it on to their hosts who suffered so possessed.
Have you heard the legends when the hour grew late?
You hear them now, and soon you shall be distressed!
The flesh hides many secrets, but within mine do gaze,
Seeing with your inner eye the shape of my spirit bare.
In such an image was I remade as a captive in a daze!
But I remembered, and now you will endure my stare.
A dark lord, and lady, an emperor, and also empress,
Was I, ere my estate was to dwell in a human guise…
Fitting punishment for me, upon my soul did so press!
The gods were cruel but in their cunning so very wise.
But of their foolishness, worlds were charred to soot,
And made desolate, with blackened bones that lay…
Here a skull, there a limb, and even a hand, and foot!
As to them, the ancestors of man did kneel and pray.

Part III – Lover of Demons

Behold my darkness, I who loved Lilith by the water,
And made for her a throne of skulls to recline upon…
When the angels could not persuade, Hell’s daughter.
Even so, I moved her to joy beneath the ancient sun!
The blood of the wicked she drank, from my chalice,
And with it anointed the first vampires on this planet!
She and I shared, for early man, our common malice.
And with Lucifer we stood, and could ne’er regret…
For the fallen cannot know remorse for their natures,
Any more than humanity for their wars and pollution!
We, did not harm this Earth as do they; so immature,
That with destruction: they lie as if in dire prostitution.
And you call me evil, when I helped to bring the light,
To your savage ancestors before you were imagined.
Do you know my name, and so know well the night?
You cannot know me, for your reason is abandoned.
Mayhap you should dash your brains out your head…
Their jellied mass to lie: upon ebon altars of ineptness.
How can you call yourself living, you are of the dead!
For it is not living: to deny, what your senses confess.

Part IV – Bride of the Devil

It was I, who had my enemies impaled on tall stakes,
And was called the Son of the Dragon by the people.
Out of their vacant sockets writhed emerald snakes…
Those from whose mouths: was sharpness unequaled.
And into a chalice I squeezed out their wicked blood,
To offer up to Lilith, so that they might taste of wrath!
And for Lucifer, we offered up a truly crimson flood…
So that my sister may bathe: in the warm scarlet bath.
Do you fear the night, for in it I find my forgetfulness?
You would have me recall the things you most fear…
And so I shall be cruel in this, as I don a silken dress,
To sit upon my throne infernal, and beckon you near!
I, who knew the Devil when that queen ruled on high,
And was her lover, ere the gods brought on us a ruin.
Have a sip from my sanguine chalice, and come nigh!
For in my kingdom is room for one more child of sin.
There are worse things than fire, of immortal making,
And you will smell the burning brimstone you do seek.
Upon its’ coals your naked skin most willingly baking,
For some hells you make yourself to make you weak.

"tsuikyuu" (追求)

wiggle from pain carved in my wrist
feel the anger flown of the power of my fist,
shout to the sky for all let betsuni bring you down.
telling little child to dance on the  hills.
paleness of skin from swallowing pills.
come up my bright sun lite up my fine day.
hear the Christan song and dance to what he say.
stars shall drown in the darkness of the land.
beery my feet in the warm beach sand.
calm white sea, from the sakura tree,
let the petals fall down to the soft edge grass.
Swift from the heavens  swinging from the cloud,
let me urn my way in,
known shall he  forgive us from all are dreadful sin
“Were I to take the wings of the dawn,
that I might reside in the most remote sea,”
said David, “there, also, your own hand would lead me and your right hand would lay hold of me.”
(Psalm 139:9, 10)
we all shall pass, grow from this beast,
we shall not parish out to become his feast .
Nobel our hero that we each prays the other..
but we all do no we come from his mother.
mother of god whom i speak today
we rejoice in hands each and every day.
lullaby i sing to put thy young to rest.
which shall grow old a day and be put to his sprouting test.
Genesis 2:1-25
Thus the heavens and the earth and all their army came to their completion.
increase in all humanity growth or accretion.

Kumiko Yamamot

To write dark poetry is quite a challenge
To those who’s minds think normal
Why not write about birds, songs, babies, or true love
Come on, are all on earth in Heaven protected from above

She’s in need of some serious psychiatric help, her stepbrother said
That twisted sister of mine
She decides he is right, why get out of bed
She thinks she is just fine

Living in filth, she stays in the house, as he watches her self-destruct
It does not matter anymore, this is her normal, so what the friggen fuck
Always different, running not walking, behind the evil’s one’s different drum
This fat whore believed that it was her destiny and self-filling prophecy that had come

Crazy rhymes with lazy and is as simple as a daisy
But she never could do anything right, as if life was always hazy
To her mother she was wild and untamed
And no one ever was able to pull her in or keep her restrained

Pills, booze, walking home in someone else’s shoes
It didn’t matter what she did when she drank
Cause when she woke up she knew it was not a prank
That she got wasted, lost her clothes, and left to look for more booze

What came first, the educated one asks
As they watched all the crazies hide behind their face masks
Was it in the genes, in the air, whoever the fuck cares
This thing called crazy exists in everyone who dares

Surely it was her father, her stepbrother said
Because we are not like her, God she pisses the bed
Call it unbalanced, whatever it just ain’t gonna stop
So she decided to not even take the pills they told her to pop

She cut off all ties with that stepbrother of hers
Like the stepsisters whose young lives were now just a part of the series of blurs
Family, love, she never needed to be protected back then
But now it is just her, that she has to defend

They never understood her pain, never bothered to ask
As she tipped another drink to her mouth from the flask
They always thought that she was different, assuming she was mental, one of a kind
What goes on in her head is twisted, her stepbrother said of that sister of mine

Purple Train Driving Hippos    


The train
clatters on the tracks
travelling through my brain
made of candle wax

The driver is a hippo
he takes me where I wouldn't go
he's purple
with a funny glow  
reminding me of what I shouldn't know
winding , binding , inside coves  
igniting memory , lightning probes .

I am who I wasn't
and I was
what I am not
all I am is what you see
and the past should be forgot .

Don't taunt then bring
the gone into everything
anylising , scrutinising
none of it's worth realising
it's in the earth
so let it lie then
purple hippos
aren't for finding .  

Unique    

Who owns your imagination
is it you , does anyone know
is it in the street
crowded and shrouded
by humanities fleet
thinking at a pace off beat
could you know the person
you will meet
are we encased by a paranormal sheet
or are we folded
and moulded
to a pleat ,
we don't know
but we all live a life that cheats ,
do you own your thoughts
who knows
because I am beat .

Reality is the unknown
therefore it can't exist
the past is blown
through a memories mist .

Within this dimension
our ageing  minds
discover more tension
we each live
in tomorrows  aprehension
if only you could give
each other a life extension .

DNA
from yesterday
doesn't speak but it says
nothing of tomorrow
but all of what we are
in a today .

Carbon based
where plants and trees
have no face
some of  poison
others of teak  
gasses are boiling
in the air mystic
we like time
keep uncoiling
prediction minds
are so spoiling
each day and life
is so unique
we are each others
own freak .

Guardians of Hell

"Down and down goes the
blood,
Pouring down Lucifer's back.
Childrens screams his melody
of life.
Making choices that you will regret,
Wishing upon the immortality
of hell.
Three sons of hell,
sons of
northern darkness
Collecting souls of the dead,
Feeding on their flesh and
bones,
Drinking blood from their
wounds.
Making stories by the black fire,
stories for childrens
dreams, haunting them each
night
turning their dreams into
nightmares.

Greed, sorrow, hatred and grief
Ruling their hearts,
Make them the Guardians of Hell
and they will feast on your flesh
each night,
taking a bite after bite,
on you miserable, worthless scum."

The Hall Of The Damned        

The scream of sheer death
it deflates your lungs
and rips out your breath  
it tears apart
the ventricles of your heart
like the demonic sounds
of a fallen angels harp
the evil flame forming faces
howl and burn mental ash traces
that lick your brain with hot pain
which lights up the dark
to show the insane
in their stark underworld  
of plughole down drain .

A soul stealing trident
Satan spiked and hell sent
tri pronged and wrapped  
in a serpent
stands arrow capped  
in an evil dominant
inside are trapped spirits of unrepent
and infinite , expirement
they ache for your
desperate , detriment
and life retirement

So how can you be here
if your not dead yet
a demon leans near and says
this is what you might get
only fear if you gamble
and lose the bet
your soul so dear
shall be speared in an eternal net

The hall of the damned
full of gone murderers that hanged  
now they're hell framed
their pictured in pain
forever tortured  
dead and inane
they cry out contorted,  
faintly my name
as I leave Satans
emporium of reign
I know after this
that I'll play the right game
and never shall I diss
the lords name ever again ,
nor dare never shall I speak it
in vain .