Note: |
From now on, most of the fucked up shit I spit with my fingers will be posted herehttp://andthethirdangelfarted.blogspot.comamong with other things.thanks/...
Posted by Elias on Fri, 09 May 2008 02:48:00 PST |
Halubaba and the sons of Mistakes. |
bring me the dog. To tame his will to bowunder the one hand that feeds it;the bureaucrat in his cage shakes in fear as these lines are written: "BEHOLD! THE RISE OF A WHALE! So huge, for the eye of th...
Posted by Elias on Sun, 27 Apr 2008 03:25:00 PST |
Oldhorse Blues. |
The stranger with the face of suicide,sweet like the honey in the lion's corpse
that Samson tore apart,and vicious like the swarm of liceeating away all doubt from the offsprings of fleshthis p...
Posted by Elias on Wed, 23 Apr 2008 12:30:00 PST |
Corpses feed this January |
Corpses dance and corpses singCorpses feed this JanuaryWith pipes of Pan, and words of truthThe trance they breed, this trance of youth"My parents are the village, and the village is my woe"...
Posted by Elias on Wed, 09 Apr 2008 09:16:00 PST |
Auto 2463 |
Let it slip from their mouths,full with the honey of a thousand corpses:
"MY PARENTS ARE THE VILLAGE,AND THE VILLAGE IS MY WOE"
The words that hurt like weapons,are always the ones of truth.And the on...
Posted by Elias on Sat, 05 Apr 2008 12:14:00 PST |
She is here, next to me. |
In January pasturesI still walk with them.
Posted by Elias on Tue, 25 Mar 2008 09:44:00 PST |
Automatic Writings. |
-There’s a deity for every wound, and a wound for every religious experience.**Come near, approach, this gloomy star of North. Various utensils, used to portray the glory of old Rome,where "ROME...
Posted by Elias on Tue, 25 Mar 2008 09:02:00 PST |
Some things you can’t realize till you’re blind |
A statue of Cerberus fell down from the holy cunt above our heads.Its eyes were the canines of the wolf, his face was the joy of the hunt, the midnight tongues, the ashes.Corpses of sti...
Posted by Elias on Tue, 25 Mar 2008 08:48:00 PST |
Maps. |
They both stared at each other.Flesh was weak, that night.Breaths were heavy, like the first glimpse of an infant.Words were weak, that night.Tongues were heavy, like the need of the hermit to chaind ...
Posted by Elias on Mon, 24 Mar 2008 06:30:00 PST |
The bleeding light |
Her songs are made with care,honey for the mouths of our offsprings,like breaths in the jars of today-today.*Saying she owns tomorrow,as she rapes today,her life is a palm, her fingers calculate perfe...
Posted by Elias on Mon, 24 Mar 2008 06:23:00 PST |
