In praise of her

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on January 30, 2022 @ 11:53 am

Last night he had left

The gift

At the crossroads

One road a

Green one

He now walked

Nelipot upon his carpet

Thinking of her

And how for him

More than just

A Habermasian

Weak

Transcendentalism

She embodied

More than the entire

Noosphere and

Yet

As an echo

In the atmosphere

The remainder,

The return,

In the οὐσία

That he threw

Up there

Sometimes imagining

Using the Hubble

Telescope as

A catapult

Even though

He knew she

Who his Otherwise

Demonised soul

Could hear

In his own

Way

Was merely

A lesser

Aspect of

Her

She who he gently

Talked to as she

Soothed him

In return

Was by far

The Superior

Soul and clearly

His superior

As demon staff

To the Goddesses

Of all the demon

Shit he waded

Through

In this

Umpteenth

Mortal Coil

And so, as he

Did in every

Incarnation

He loved her

And despite

His hard-bitten

Demon mettle

She brought him

Daily melting

Happiness

She was His

生き甲斐

And so eventually

As he did joyously

Every time

He submitted

To Her

As was His wont

Every Time

And as was

Hers

Leaving them both

Dirl

For each

Other

A Bone

Apart

kadın için kısa olan (or does she know him from Adam?)

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on @ 11:50 am


If your faith
Is not doubtful
It is not-faith
It is mere dogma.

It’s a bitch

To the quick
(of the spirit
of the bone).

Here comes
The shame
Man

With his
Dogged
Hyperprosexia

我们是
Shy of
A Half century
Of Women’s
Work to
Rule

Quick to unfaith

Scorpion maths

Filed under:poetry — posted by Schizostroller on January 1, 2022 @ 9:04 am

Never forgive a scorpion more than twice.

They’ll sting you anyway.

[There is a third line, I know several variations, know your own, this is the third line, but the second line contains a bifurcation already]

Hence the third line had a fifth, so there are six others unmentioned in this line.