Infernal Pais (Pt. I)

in #poetry7 years ago (edited)

The world is a
door from which
glory underneath seeps.

Man discerns
meager shadows.

Before the door
lie cramped men
aspiring in multitude
:
horde of men,
myriad men,
throng of men,
report, distort, devise!

before them, others
fantasize, masturbate, like
children infatuated with
ignorance, as though
embarked on a
trackless vale of
well-wrought distortion

behind bulwarked libraries,
cultured men spit
at others, dirty,
hidden by earth
&
grime, like frightened
soldiers in foxholes,
as though their
spit could drown
them into salvation.
abaft bewildered men
in tarnished coronets,
on hallucinatory quests
toward abhorrent ignis
fatuus : on these
men, not an
iota of light
claims space on
their skinned skulls
of varying hues,
their incarcerated desires
of liberation remain
unsatisfied. and there,
looming, the door
like a monolith
of horror, past
things fraught with
despair, with the
wear of humanity,
beyond things corrupt,
remains glory unencumbered
by men, remains
glory from which
nothing but rumor
escaped.

not all is shrouded,
not all is grotesque,
alas, the fragility
of sight, trembles
at the door of truth,
as though God’s residual impact causes the invisible effervescent structures
of bodies and buildings, fields and rivers,
valleys and deserts, women and flowers,
etc,
as though truth resided
in Entirety,
just beyond
where our sight,
our sense,
our knowledge
fear to tread.
as distant ranges, mountains propose the possibility of endlessness,
as death propose
the possibility of eternity,
our sight and senses
a rampart to an unimaginable majesty.
“Flesh of the world,” cries the prophet “dare ye claim knowledge of Glory? Ye man claim knowledge of God, thou art an idiot!”
One man,
among men, answered the prophet
:
“I alone,
among men alone, witnessed pandemonium
as it colonized
the inner reaches
of our hearts,
as one loathsome figure, corrupted image of God, flailed wildly like
a mad conductor orchestrating a macabre ensemble bent on hegemony
of the dying world and its flesh.
I alone, among men alone, witnessed the eyes of him that looked on one and all, with eyes like flies, compounded with death and despair.
I alone, among men alone, witnessed hell, and knew that the world
is a door and that door is death.”

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I dont do requests

whats requests?

It wants me to write about someonecalled lovejuice.that does not sound like something I want to do.haha

You like love juice in your mouth 😉 simple

I dont think they accept gay erotica haha