Who are you?
Mackem. Night Porter in Keswick. 23rs old. Master of Pokemon. Lover of straight whiskey and Beethoven.
Take me through the labyrinth
As Persephone’s memory,
No longer the greatest of mysteries,
As even Calchas could not prophesize.
My voice reaching into the past,
Stealing Persephone from Hades
As her Ichor now courses these
I a ship at Aulis, anchored to her
An Achaean; an Achaean
Agitated for that Trojan prize,
Waiting for the lambs
Slit neck, slew blood that floods
To the road
Where her mother wept.
Oh! Daughter you have risen again
But you are a ghost’s shed skin,
A lost heart’s mirage.
Apollo I can only gather for you a
Seduced by the romanticism of her golden hair,
Worthless as the raw olive.
Oh! Aphrodite your loose lips
Make grieving anger a doorway of time
Forging the seeking of skeleton
To infect the part of me that is
Argh! My burning mortal blood flows
Sprung from the well of the Styx;
High from the milk of the furies
I need to give up these lamentations;
Stop feasting on her nectar breath of
It is not her fault her heart of
Was crafted by the carcass hands of
No more is the electric feel of our
Allowing us to lose ourselves within
Persephone I beseech to you upon two
As a supplicant of woe.
I will not pray for hope
nor shall I pray for forgiveness,
For they are the bravery of a coward,
I only pray that you now return.
So come hither Hades,
Lurking in the bowels of Tartarus,
And take your bride back to her place
As for you Persephone, well
At least death made me love you
Like I forgot to when you were alive.
Mist ghost steel clinks echo
annihilating marble beams,
craft translucent, cobalt smoke shadows
revealing sullen time; empty ruined factories,
lifeless hand chopped dynasties,
workers blood replaced with liqueur;
mouths burn voiceless asperities.
Old drunk God wanders contemplating
the Chinese blowjob,
stopped my footsteps,
words of venom.
Molten oven no longer roars;
me hands are as sick as death
with nee one ta kill.
I’ve had ta sell me kip,
been there for thirtee yays
so that Cameron can suck China’s cock.
Aye ah use to mak steel for a livin’
now ah steal to mak a livin’.
La Bella da Carnivella
Witnessed upon a morning star
She wore her elflocks honey wild.
We met her at a carnival,
The dew soaked faery child.
Tears stained could not mask
Rosy cheeks, fermenting youth.
Death abated dwelling, on my soul
I swear, I swear it is the truth.
A flowery vision – her smile Earth
Far lovelier was her intellect’s tale.
Ravishing upon the fading myths
I sought to join her creation trail.
Spinning an atmosphere of a new found
We sojourned about to night’s embrace
With playful revelry – new dawn rose,
Light beams cupped her soft, cold
Seduced by her carnal magick,
Her full body a river white curve.
Laying our limbs primitive bare
We delved with lascivious mirth .
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