Posts Tagged ‘filth’

10028179-Close-up-of-a-smoking-cigarettes-in-a-stack-Stock-Photo

Time like cigarettes
Measuring out moments of tedium and trial
Just existing
Sometimes seems difficult
Watching television
To quiet suicidal ideation
Decaying cognition
Corrupted cogitation
Stinking thinking
All around the rubbish piles up
‘Cos I can’t be bothered cleaning up
Or have some mental block about it
Any woman would be frightened away
I’m going to die festering in my own filth

dirtyroom

Sometimes I feel like I’m living in a squat
A homes-westy kind of festering junkie den of dankness
When there’s crap all over the floor and dirty plates creating no stepping zones
The coffee table hasn’t been cleaned in months has black impasto layers of dirt
Just missing a couple of skanky junkie prostitutes nodding off in the corner
Now that would be cool

My sheets have a substantial amount of sand, dirt and guinea pig poo on them
Fortunately they’re black
I can never keep the doona cover on, so the doona is a dirty white slug on my bed
There are empty cigarette butts on the floor as I have been raiding my butt collection
It’s a miracle I get out of the place looking clean and moderately respectable sometimes
The wonders of showers and deodorant I guess

I wonder if I’d clean up my act for a good woman
Perhaps- anything is possible though not probable
I do kind of love my filth
I revel in many forms of corruption and depravity
So do the guinea pigs
They are piggies like me

Devils

Posted: May 7, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , ,

Demons
I wandered to an ancient cave in a mountain on a plain,
Around the cave entrance were Aramaic inscriptions, warnings of doom.
Within were creatures with fangs and eyes in no rational proportion,
Uneven face ratios asymmetrical and strange,
Wriggling over each other like maggots in pus,
With tongues and lips grotesque and mangled protrusions of flesh for no purpose besides the bearing of a horn,
And assholes sucking and blowing filth covering them like pustules.
The noise they make is unspeakable,
A howling growling hullabaloo,
And the stench is unbearable from the writhing wriggling expulsions of filth.
Hiding in a forgotten corner of the world, vanishing in an instant to lurk in the hearts of the innocent,
Each one is a blackening the warp and weft of the web of reality.
Their names are many and they serve one master with an awful creed.
They whisper hate and madness into the soul of the unsuspecting sinner.
The ruler of this world of suffering and sorrow,
Knows each one by name for they are his creatures.
But the darkness will not devour the light,
For there is a saviour truer than law, brighter than sunlight, aching with love,
He will redeem us from their power.