Poem – “The Faceless Serenade” – Romance

You walk in frailty’s shadow,
Showing romance in each marvelous step.
Dipping a foot into a milky row,
Of evermore marvelous pain.

What is this fear, in which I feel
For the first moment upon thy naked form?
When you sing such soft notes,
To recede back into the notes of a whimper,
I am here to console,
For that which I stole.

You leak white from the pink of thy cheeks,
Down unto my own feet,
That had plodded a course in tragedy.
I have made echoes with each faltering step.
It is because I feel a chorus
That leaps into my chest.

All notes, a score that is emotionless,
Instruments that give no life,
And eyes from a woman who has
Only the need to offer death.

Is such your becoming comfort?
And the notes of melancholy that are not
My own becoming?
I might not ever raise myself from
This faltering where I descend.
You have beauty that I cannot mold.

Each path has made a burning before me,
A burning, and a path behind that is no longer true.
I cannot see behind to the faces of yesterday.
For you are there to hear me say,
“I am nothing without the faceless serenade,
And the music that speaks volumes of empty pages.”

Where are the lights to our decay?
Where is the place for us to stay?

Poem – “Father, Have You Lifted?” – Father’s Day

Father, have you lifted,
Away from the pain I now share,
With a world so very bare?

It is because I have done as you asked,
And cared for another among a division
Of untimely selfishness.

Is it wrong to despise someone,
Who loves only themselves?
This world has no promise of love.

And yet, I make what I can
From the smooth ashes that cake my ankles,
And the fires, I make for warmth, as bodies burn.

Ashes that fell, and ashes you breathed,
As towers fell and towers leave.
They were once tall, and now, they are up to me.

I am in love,
With a dashing extravagance,
Because I have no more guidance.

There is only the music, of remembrance,
That makes me breath a fragrance,
One that is soft and represents a cushion.

One that is a cushion and shows the skin,
Of those in need.
Their blood raises upwards, and I see.

I see a world without the shame,
Of people who ignore shame,
Of people intolerant of shame.

I see a world unlike you or me,
I see, and only see, the madness of those without a clue,
To be able to differ the old from the new.

There is so much beauty left forgotten,
So much truth unprotected by the dome of love.
That when I see you, I begin to see me.

I see the fires and the waves on the shoreline,
And I don’t see myself as needing,
Other than the occasional sentiment of gratitude,
Like you, as humble, in the efforts towards safety.

Poem – “Have We?” Romance

Have we expended our future,
Unto the stars?
Have we made ourselves saviors,
With mercy to our belonging?

I sit as a witness to your artful form
That shows shimmers upon a velvet torso.
You have made a God whimper before you.
He was me, the man to whom loves you.

I sit beside you at the elongated table,
And view your beauty in all colors.
You have eyes that show sparkles in blue,
And cheeks that have the deepest hues.

There are reds, in those cheeks,
There is a blue, in those eyes.
You have a face, that has been swollen from kisses,
I have made a mark, through the fame of you.

I am a father, to you, as my child.
So beautiful, with shades of black upon white,
You are desirous, though retain all urges,
To be upon the white, but remain in darkness.

Have we expended those stars,
That are above us in the clearest blue?
Will our kisses at once be shared,
So deep to reach the ocean’s bottom?

I had once made a child who knew to see,
The crystal, the caves, and the ebony.

A Critique on Feminism – “The Destruction of Marriage” – Dialogue

Q: You have mentioned that despite Feminism believing itself to better marriage for women, that it was inevitably to destroy the entirety of marriage?

A: It is correct, because Feminism had a main ideal, and that ideal was discontent. The essence behind love is to make a human not want for more, other than the one who they’ve devoted themselves. Love does not make a human want more, and because Feminism has made a woman want more, then marriage inevitably would have succumbed, as it has done.

Q: Could you elaborate on why love is never to be met with discontent?

A: It is because marriage is there as a lock, and bound together, no two of the ones who are married should ever part from the other. Through the marriage, the ‘leaving of the house’ initiates the process of longing, and the forcefulness of patience. A man lacks the most patience over a woman, and his inevitable ways with discipline, does not make him the patient one. Over a man, a woman will listen to words, and words entice the utmost out of patience. Love cannot, or rather, should not be met with discontent, due to how love operates in the sense that love offers rest. Love offers relief, away from the stresses of life.

Q: And on why Feminism would have inevitably succeeded in destroying marriage, and even love?

A: It is because the most discontent find ways to make use of things. And the most useful of things, are in fact, the most useless of things. This is love, the most useless thing, because one is not meant to look upon family through lust. Discontent makes the human want more, and in wanting more, one makes use of tools. When in lust, a human is out of love, and in the process of wanting more, and that is either a child, or escapism away from stagnancy. Creation, that is, to make art, and therefore, the artist is always the one who is discontent. A world that wishes to create further stagnancy is a world that is seeking the other form of equality.

Q: What form of equality is that?

A: There are only two forms of equality: love and death. Love, as the former, is the higher equality. Death, as the latter, is the lesser equality. Meaning, love is raised, and death is lowered; or rather, love raises, and death lowers. A skeleton, when relating to death, is just as any skeleton, by the bones. Through flesh, and through love, we recognize life, the breathing, and the emotions, because we abandon the dead, save for the memories of their life. Through flesh, a human will recognize their beloved, just as a skeleton, were it to walk, would recognize another skeleton as the same, and be a slave. It is so, because a slave has no way to distinguish his misery from another slave. In today’s world, death has grown to be the new form of equality, because truth, or a woman, or flesh, is never raised. This is Socialism, because death, or poverty, is the only other form of equality, besides a love for God, or the love for a husband, being the love for a father.

Poem – “Take Me Down” – Romance

How has it that suffering has placed a crown,
On this starved mind, enclosed in a shell?
When I saw a face, that was yours,
I drew weariness away from that mind,
And the gems grew a brilliant luster.

Am I not the pain that lingers,
Upon your reddened lips?
Am I not the darkness that incurs,
Due to the flowers that die at every step?
I am, for this is when we have united.

I am the sight that you have seen,
Whilst drinking the perfumed wine.
I am the red on your mouth,
The gleam on thy arms,
And the enemy who never allows for innocence to return.

As such becomes an emotion,
Monochrome and melancholy.
I look to clouds so full of grey,
And find my kind, alike to you, among the shapes,
That fall and climb, and soon to climb upwards, again.

I beg you to take me down from this weariness,
To where there are demons that writhe,
So that I may belong to them.
And so that I may cling to thy knees.
For I am nothing more than a broken felon.

Poem – “Upon the Bed, I’ll Lay Thee” – Romance

Your growing fragrance,
Matches this room and its aromatic candles.
And I have found it upon myself
With my hands to claw at the flesh of thee,
To tear and yank the burden of attire I see,
To match the nakedness to the maker of me,
Who is a demon that I cannot let flee.
You have sweat glistening upon an arm,
And a face that whimpers beneath the soaring skies.

When I choose to love, I live as the beast,
To devour the wholeness of your making.

When did you last submit?
Where will you see yourself in coming years?
Above the sands of shores where shades dance on a form,
That has never been nude.

I shall lay you upon a bed,
For myself to see,
And to glimpse a moving breast,
And two legs like the purest white from birch.

When I’ll make you mine,
I’ll differ nectar from wine,
And make the world find me tiresome.

When will I grow intolerant?

Poem – “The Beloved Woman’s Patience” – Romance

As I look upwards from this stance,
I see where my hands have laid.
Themselves, as palms, upon thy bare shoulders.
Shoulders, always bare, and made from ivory.

I have been the admirer to your form.
A form with curves alike to the Earth.
When I’ve seen the horizon,
What more to witness than to be blinded, by thee?

And I am below, at thy feet,
Martyred by love, to what I’ve worshiped,
I have place a circle of gold on thy finger,
Slender and smooth by the possession of youth.

As I peer upwards,
To see the bluest gaze and pearly smile,
Of two lips that are glazed by a merry pinkness.
I see all the happiness I’ve formed.

For two shoulders to which I’ve laid my hand,
To offer comfort, or so that you’ll weep.
I am for beauty and its shielding.
You are in love with bliss and its making.

Where are we on this earth,
And where do we travel?
What have we to do with the world’s suffering,
Else to see that which has made us?

I have formed the deserts upon thy abdomen,
And the ocean of milk on thy cheeks.

I have grown impatient to my own testing of it.
Though, you’ll live as happily as the next bird.

Poem – “Unable to Wish” – Romance

We are unable to wish,
For the pain to end itself,
Due to how our desires bend
With one another on this frail soil.
We are united in death,
And divided in love.

A pitiful little beauty you once were
To me and the seas.
Waters poured from your eyes,
Like frail rivers of ice.
And I kissed each tear that strayed
From its trail.

I was once in love,
With a woman who resembled my birth.
She had always called to me,
In an effort to elapse such pain.
She said, “Where do you hail from,
Other than a womb of mine?”

Indeed, a mother she was,
To perhaps another child,
An alien one, and not the one who I am.
A beauty, that she is, though of nothing more,
For she is a woman of seeming emptiness,
And I have left the nest for her to see me gone.

Where, in this setting of tragedy
Are you to find grace upon those frail shoulders?

Where, in this funeral of remembrance
Are you to see with one eye only upon the future?

When I love, it is with turmoil.
When I love, it is with disease.
When I despise, I despise with a shaking
To these limbs,
And to my lying tongue.
I had loved a woman who no more finds sadness in herself.

It had been so, like the green of trees,
Or the blue of lakes,
Or even the yellow among every dandelion,
That decorates the meadows.
She sees only the external, and never the one,
Who she found to be a child, and never a husband.

Dialogue – “The Evidence of God” – 6/15/2019

Q: You say that to seek the “evidence of God”, one must look no further than upon themselves and their yearnings?

A: What have we of the “Second Coming”? It can only mean that such an event is similar to any other event in one’s life, that involves the “return of love”. As well, the “loss of virginity” to a woman reveals a certain void in her, one that has not yet been filled by the “returned lover” who had taken it. Should it be that such a man who took, or rather, stole a woman’s virginity had only done so, for the sake of taking it, then the “Second Coming” then becomes the yearning. To “look upon themselves” as you quoted of me, is the evidence of yearning. One doesn’t at all seek the “evidence of God” unless through humanity. A machine is impossible in such a task. “God” is always only either denied or longed for, in the return upon the weak, could they be a woman, who desire that void to be filled.

Q: Then, the “evidence of God” has only to do with humanity. How does a scientist comprehend such an ideal?

A: The scientist can only comprehend what changes consistently. Therefore, the scientist, as a scientist, can only comprehend science. The scientist, as a human, will comprehend love, through humanity. For a human inevitably believes in God when in love, and when in love, a human should find that their love is unchanging, much like God. Love should not change, or otherwise when it does, it was only because discontent met love on a path. Everything unchanging dies, and becomes unrecognizable, when it changes. We describe the “face of God” as linked to those we love. And, in the same fashion, those we love should always be recognized.

Q: How is science not ever able to discover the “evidence of God”?

A: It is because science represents the “changing” while God represents the “unchanging”. God is called “unfathomable” or “omniscient” or “perfect” and all such words, because God is unlike the ordinary human, who continually seeks change in their own imperfect lives. As well, God is the God of both love and death, not just love. Such things, both love and death, are invisible to life, especially death. Though, the one thing that puts a halt to life, is death. And the one thing that puts a halt to discontent, is love.

Essay #1 – “Of Addiction” – 6/14/2019

Addiction forms a barricade before burden. And the addiction only forms itself as an addiction, when the persistence to face the responsibility of one’s faults, is kept. That “barricade” will form, through the addiction, though when the effects of the addiction wear off, then the pain rushes into the mind, so that the heart becomes affected.

The heart is affected by the mind, while the mind, in return, is affected by the heart. This is a vicious cycle. It is only a thought that creates an emotion. The mind is a pounded gong, while the heart listens to the mind’s echo. In return, the heart is affected by the echo enough so that the mind feels the heart’s pain. This is to say that the mind should be more sympathetic than the heart, though is also to say that the mind will create a greater effort to show sympathy over the heart.

That the mind has to create positive thoughts of sympathy for the heart to listen, is meant to be in place, for there to be healing. Though, the addiction is the barricade between the mind and the heart. The pain that the mind endures, is only due to the mind’s continuous instability. It is while the heart is always renewed and refreshed and reborn, that the mind shows this instability. The Saint will declare themselves as “reborn” when they relieve themselves of burden, and this was the mind dominating the heart. The Demon will declare themselves as a “deceiver” when they show the promise of power, and this is intelligence manipulating the weak.

Such a barricade between the mind and the heart is revealed when the mind cannot control the heart through an effort of sympathy. When the heart shows sympathy, it had only been because the mind showed it, first. When pain rushes in, the addict will reach for the addiction and rebuild the barricade so that the mind cannot tame the heart. The barricade both stops the pain from the mind to the heart, as well as stop the mind from taming the heart so that an addiction is not needed.

Poem – “Surrender to Me” – Erotica

Your love and its streaming auras,
Make this moment as a lake
With a boat upon thy body of it.
A lake with myself atop it.
I swim in its wetness,
That is the poison I swallow.

Beauty turns into magnificence,
When I hold two breasts,
Like two pearls given greater luster.
Oh, how you’ve made loveliness grander
Than the shapes made into stars.
Beauty becomes the splendor, in its heat.

Of two legs matched and identical,
As two separate steeples,
Sweat draws many marks on their ivory surface.
How I love thee when you weep.
When you weep in gladness!
A face alike the sun when shown in resplendence.

I dine and feast on a neck,
That is alike to the swan, when choked and strangled.
How much I adore your sighs,
Lifted in this embrace.
You are one with a dagger,
One that I’ve penetrated into flesh.

So lovely you are, with eyes that pierce my own,
Dark and stupefied by pleasure,
In its immense amounts.
Of two arms that dance above your head,
A scent that would make God gullible,
And breath as sweet as the rose from a bouquet.

Wonderful listener, to my words,
Come pull a hand over a dagger,
That is warm from flesh beneath a mound
Of soil and fire.
Marvel at its sharp edge,
And make of it as you will.

Poem – “We’ll Not Die with our Love Apart” – Romance

Should the world end, with us not unified,
We’ll have the ocean to cross, and then we’ll die.
You have beauty that marvels the angels.
Of cheeks that blossom the rosiest pink,
And such beauty creates strength
In my darkened heart.

I will love with a powerful love,
End all demons that torment you into woe,
You have arms that claw at the most bitter parts
Of this angered mind.
I am enraged at those who create obstacles,
Between the love, that is for us.

When will I have to suffer no longer,
To merely see your smiling eyes, that speak more
Than either your hands or mouth?
A beauty with trembling limbs and idle words,
That speak frailty.
That speak of loneliness.

I shall have thee without the torment that lingers
Upon thy buried heart.
Between ribs made of Adam’s dust and Lilith’s tears.
Torn with woe and the endlessness
Of the subservient pain.
Let the world tremble, and not thy bared arms!

To see our love with blindness,
And how radiant thee will roam upon the rock.
I will cover thou with a bliss,
And make thee a coat formed with a stagnant love,
Deserving its stagnancy through a vision,
Of a grave that cannot be of only one.