Villainy
Card-carrying evils commit the first
I have opened everything I
have seen the crimes
Their straight, narrow heights
piercing and cutting the fullness
I have seen it I have seen it.
Whoever has eyes to see should see
Villains decrying heroic victory over Life
pledge themselves to nothing-In-something;
to seed, to themselves
inviolate, sin full,
inseminating
a mother.
Were they replacing screams and cries
of fertile, juicy, girls with Mother’s lamentations?
Their Own? What became of them,
before? Self? Control? Order?
Other?
The Original Sin-Genital
Tributes,
the most beautiful, muses,
form the center; the most valuable protected,
disposables surround. Rounded up like cattle.
Young men with dogs corralling prisoners.
Stoic mothers, wailing maids —
Maidens silently rage.
Their Sisters taken,
God murdered,
Men driven mad.
Priests of the Depths, bound, defiled. Furies.
Sirens shut, harpies gagged, aggrieved. All taken.
Their communities’ and their own pride,
linking all space, all time, all hope,
dreamt, lived, and died; kindred
of moon, of blood, of spirit -
Daughters. To the depths.
So they go. Oh, soul.
They must hold,
root, keep Truth. Else-wise
Kore Sophia,
beyond mercy, impossibly aggrieved, contracts.
All is lost, devoured, under-world consuming
the whole lot.
The Image!
“You will approach her as if husband already,
woo her with tendernesses - we shall show you -
and when you have rid Her of Life and acquired her,
command thy loins to silence.
Bright silence.
Deny.
Think not,
only do.
Do.
Leave thinking to Above All, through brotherhood of Man.
Create His World.
In your Father,
in everything we could accomplish, believe.
Treat her as dirt underfoot.
Her road is hard, weary, unyielding — so be you.
And as dogs,
aching for touch, rejected. Disabused; desirous; confused.
Trample wounded hearts with silence.
They will believe,
in their sorrow and grief, in you. That you,
her captor, are sun; are sky.”
"Upon return,
we shall purify them
of their lack.”
A Proud Assembly:
Lions of the Sun, robed,
await their bruised brides.
Hail, son!
“Daughters of the Sun
are not fit brides for Son.
Instead, their soil, foundation, provides
for Father.”
Priests marshaling their Right God
-for whom Good? -
is nonetheless ex nihilo.
Abraxas of Abraham, at once good and evil.
Amphibious.
