August 15th, 2004

Cthulhu Joyce

Peaceful Warrior.

The words
of coyote resonate like
a game of cleanliness and fortitude.
Speaking in tones awe-ful and wondrous
he reminds,
preaches, to live first
and take names in the aftermath.
I must
slough off my skin to keep it in tact.
The atmosphere,
a churning mosaic of smoke
and screaming children, is beaming.
It is
oppression of the highest degree,
not only is it necessary but it bilks me for all
I am
worth. Coyote taunts in his lackadaisical manner;
he wants a fight with the snakes of the world
- Apophis as degenerated into the children of Seth -
as a retort to boredom.
He is
the apotheosis warrior
as created by Homer and rectified by Tolkien.
I am
the rising yuppie who buys replica swords
made from tank parts that never asked to be a weapon.
I cannot
be a peaceful warrior
when my future remains locked in endless
cycles of
wash and dry and
ache and watch.
  • Current Music
    Olympic
Cthulhu Joyce

Urban Decay

I've settled on my muse. Happiness,
love and the like hold no value
they are fleeting as dreams.
The death force, represented artistically
is the only current. Buildings,
anointed in their prime with love
and affection, that have lost luster -
forgotten and been forgotten - these are
constants. Created for chimerical glory
when dignity passes to the newest
taking with it the solid foundation
of yesterday; but rust never sleeps.

Urban decay, a glimpse
of apocalypse and precursor to the sprawling
megalopolis so many revere, is my architect
and reclusive siren. She inspires
with klaxon voice so strong it shakes
my foundation to the ground. This is where
it started. Rubble is the basis
from which all things spring.
  • Current Mood
    geeky geeky