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words of “was-dumb”.

WARNING; the content in this post evokes imagery of a questionable and disgusting nature. Mature audiences please be advised.




Reaping the sewn.

As the worm turns

it spins with the earth

yet is as fully separate

as the humans that walk upon it

the matter lies flat over the worm

the shockwaves from running feet

across the dirt as the worm swims

feeling surface moves as it goes

frozen by time the material loosens

as the worm drives its’ way

through a darkness that needs no eyes

a place whose pressure grows

less where the worm has passed

creating footprints in the dirt

making it less a hiding ground

it becomes by then a stomping ground

Thanks, khet.




Silly amalgams of syllables…

out of Context;
‘…a chain of commands brought from distant lands to hide ourselves amongst the leaves, and fight the swill of yesterday with words that spill and spew…spoiling the outcry set by forgotten sails…’

Skeletons-in-Comania




i have been wrong, i have wronged.

Death-Holding-Mask

out of Context;
‘This I have made so by my strength of will, I have created this world I have found myself within, and taken no regrets at the actions that lead me here.’




CMK – 1/07

we speak from inside
the mind’s eye
where we do not die
merely experience
the rest of all of this
one at a time
we create
worlds within ourselves
this way
a growth.




Disaffected.

the youth in me
moves outward
to portray frustration
inside others for
my actions turn
to mush together
becoming that
thing that ideas
circulate among
images that would
otherwise point
towards blank
and empty spaces
creating disarray.




Lucifer

Tears of blood, fall from grace;
Scabbed wings from a hollow face;
Pain of heaven now flame in hell;
A wish to say I never fell




the sense of touch, fleeting

‘used…the tissue…no other ends…’




my payless crusade

‘clearly…present…the gallows noose…’




questions of a heart

the heart is shaken loose, from the gristle

that the organ had grown quite used to

abuse of the time, having lost for you

what you thought was mine, was it meant to be?

there were thoughts that were wrong to find

memories rather lost than not

fraught with peril for love with cost

grind the gears before the motion is lost

before that turning clock has rung

rust has broken that yet unsung