Paradise is sold out .
Hell is no longer recruiting.
All eternity to waste your time
Pretending to believe
that you are still alive ...
Night in white shadows
interspersed with insomnia ..
Pretending to flee a curse
halfway between dream and delirium ,
a hellish clock swings like fatal
metronome...
How to escape from oneself
without taking the path of illusion
and end up in the putrid mouth
of the Gorgon ?
Sometime a griffon old aquaintance
or a few chimeras ...
Weighted .Divided . devoured .
A slimy reptile clings to the ossuary
of the soul ,wriggling into
the compassional abyss .
Give me a zyklon kiss ...
Midday butterfly in the bright
midnight sun .
The long sob of Mayerling rocks
my heart ...
Doc Jerry killed mistery love .
One dead body floats
the other thinks ...
The killer took the last metro in Paris .
He fancies himself a poet
but goes around with an ausweiss .
Mirror interwine this disturbing mirage .
Sacrificing these reflection won't save you !
The beast's egg feeds in a lunar plexus
Smiles smell corrupted when turkey
is served on sundays at family meal ...
I sniff the forbidden perfume
of this sister I possess in the dregs ...
Man ,we should call the terminator .
Anne Franck is bored at the threshold .
she writes to her friend Barbie .
What to do free oneself from the grip
of the moloch ?
When the pen refuses to deflower
the blank page .
Mind stuttering at the bottom of the hole .
Dizzying frequency .
No longer reading, writing, living and dreaming !
Paradise is bankrupt .
Hell isn't worth a missal .
Let's take a sleeping pils
that will keep us aware ...
Everything ready for our date with the fall ...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 5th, 2026 11:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Sealgair
Offline)
Comments3
Paradise has been sold out since two minutes after the tickets went on sale. They need a larger venue but maybe tickets can be bought from scalpers. At twice the good deeds required for entrance the price is set but the tickets are forgeries and one is off to jail.
Hell and paradise become place to be avoided ...where should we go ?
I'll stay here thank you
I was talking about a possible after ...
Don't know if I believe in an after
Aftershave .
Philosophers would call this radical nihilism.
Congratulations, humanity, we are officially lost.
Poetry offers no salvation but a lucid testimony on the edge of the abyss !
The poem unfolds across multiple layers, like a descent through the stairway of the mind.
Amazing work!
We are in the aftermath of the human condition.The fall is already imprinted in the human consciousness .
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