C suite confessional-cinco-25
Lost souls coffee smoke
Her heart pierced by t traitorous fools
Lost souls coffee smoke
Ongoing sporadic journal of the overeducated, and underemployed. The title derived from Coupland’s description of cubicle land; the corporate ghetto. Random photos and thoughts. Left the ghetto, never happier. This still a work in progress
Gravity-mayday-25
spiralling towards
andromeda
This galaxy
Has me
Low low
benediction absolution
In a bikini( the dream made flesh)
Free
Ground control
learned for take off( never fancied your type, anyway
Slagging off gravity
Brings me
Gravity: the force that attracts a body toward the centre of the earth 2) gravitas ‘weight, seriousness’, from gravis ‘heavy’.
down
down
no gravity
falling
leash slipped( cry havoc!)
flying
wrapped up
Bedroom eyes-30.03.25
Gazing
into sultry smouldering sensuality
must have been lovers
in
some
past(Aphrodite Priestess)
or
future(cosmic romance)
parallel (multiverse adventures)
lives
those bedroom eyes call me
Bedroom eyes: refers to a sexually enticing or seductive gaze that invites intimacy or sexual interest 2) inferno I am drawn to like a moth
Heaven-02.25
head thrown back
Mouth open in a scream-agony/extasy?)
Eyes only whites show eyes pointed towards heaven
Back arched
Shuddering covered in sweat
Arms/legs outstretched
her expression
somewhere betwixt
Agony and rapture
Heaven: girl that nobody can really define 2) religions as the abode of God (or the gods) and the angels. 3) here in these dirty sheets
Focused on heaven
this poem has no name 14.03.25
láska, I miss U
comes across me phone
I waved goodbye
Through smoke
As you lit
The bridge
ablaze
I cut the thread Sykes Fairbairn boot dagger
You dangled my heart
Watched as it fell
Shattered little black pieces scattering and dissolving
couldn’t/wouldn’t
be
who you needed us to
be
those paintings
us
engaged in a tryst
he burned
not looking back
angry
your passion
was ecstasy
until it wasn’t
but you belong to
a cold distant god
the status and security
you need so desperately
I am
what you see
loved you then
love you now
blood moon appears
I am but
a shadow in the night
Ash Wednesday-06.03.25
she worries her heart is not
big enough (warriors’ hearts always gigantic & warm)
I know
only
that love is the only strategy
love is amputation, every time
love is all there is “the priest
makes a smudge
chants
“Remember that you are star dust, and to star dust you shall return
love in the ashes
Ash Wednesday
Ash Wednesday-06.03.25
she worries her heart is not
big enough (warriors’ hearts always gigantic & warm)
I know
only
that love is the only strategy
love is amputation, every time
love is all there is “the priest
makes a smudge
chants
“Remember that you are star dust, and to star dust you shall return
love in the ashes
Ash Wednesday
ghost dance022.01.25
roar of my machine
Love crucified
Free fire
Mercury-tipped bullets
Roar of my machines
and methadone
Looks that kill
I got the madness
I got the method
I got the means
2 worlds
I am somewhere betwixt
bleeding
the light
has gone
so, I’ll set a fire
with
A ghost I’ll dance
into the flames
into the void
lost and found-27.01.25
I never knew anyone else could speak my language till I met you
Oh, the sublime narcotic that is love
The conceit
finding
me self
losing
me self
in you
As you’re
Walking out the door
Just like 1,000 others before
Thanks for the illusion
I’ll tuck into me ruck
I’ll save it
cold rainy winter night
Open it and let the illusion
Warm us
And keep
Searching
For
A thing I cannot name
Visions of Mary Magdalene,
Mata Hari &
Cleopatra
Sorcessoress 23.01.25
aspect of her gaze
of her walk
The way she feels in my arms
A
Million unquantified things
Intangible
But
Exiting a plane at 35,000 ft
new lover
New planes of existence
Waking 5,900 miles from Chelsea
Next to someone10,00 ,miles front “home”
Unknown is always magic
je ne sais quoi
on long legs
Sorcessoress
lost and found-27.01.25
I never knew anyone else could speak my language till I met you
Oh, the sublime narcotic that is love
The conceit
finding
me self
losing
me self
in you
As you’re
Walking out the door
Just like 1,000 others before
Thanks for the illusion
I’ll tuck into me ruck
I’ll save it
cold rainy winter night
Open it and let the illusion
Warm us
And keep
Searching
For
A thing I cannot name
Visions of Mary Magdalene,
Mata Hari &
Cleopatra
psychomancy-27.03.19-later
sacrament
BEGINS!
mixing sacred powders
lighting candles
seeking the divine
seeking enlightenment
seeking revelation
the only way
I know
injecting
magic
knowledge
absolution
the holy sacrament
psychomancy
psychomancy. a form of communication between souls or with the spirit world 2) when the line between worlds fades
My kind boxing day.24
Lunatic androids
Run rampant
Thunder lightening
Walking a cemetery in the rain
Writings that will never too be read
Muse started playing
different music
Thought you
Were my kind
Staggering
Underground
light a candle
heats
Sacred medicine(t
traveling
centre
mind
soul
Andromeda
Maybe
Find
Kind: 1)good or benevolent nature 2)a certain type of person
My kind
Aaman-later
Recognised
You
When
Pinks spider
Rocked me
It was you
In the souk Algiers
Alphabet City
Dschungel
Vortex
CBGB
you send them
The edge of my radar
Laughing
catch the scent
inhaling deeply
Lost in the moment
Perfecting my affliction
My brother
Aaman
Aemon in demonology, is a Grand Marquis of Hell who governs 40 infernal legions, The 7th spirit Goetia. His favourite way torment humans, causing them to fall in love.
relapse: break up with someone, only to have sex 2)person who's trying to stop using drugs start using again.
I didn’t plan
this
didn’t want
this
thought I kicked
this
sobriety chips: a token to commemorating time spent sober
sobriety chips
trashed
surrounded by death
murder hornets
Nazi’s
Plague
sanctuary
endorphins
my pink fix
I can start again tomorrow
loving
relapse18.12.24
Dream in a dreaming-17.11.24
All she ever was
me dreaming
she felt just like a dream
lost
No way home
Revelation
NIN & Amy
On turntable
crash
after we smash
perchance
to
Dream: a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep. 2) the thing life wants to crush 3) a vision on long legs
dream
Satyr-17.11.24
Siren’s song
Changed
sad
Not sure
Whoever she’s swimming with
Is worthy
Satyr listening
traded
L119A2
for
wine skin
books
art
Call out
Confused hurt song answers
Satyr
Her love would
Be better than
wine
on shore
wine is all there is
Satyr : f lustful, drunken wild gods fond of Dionysian revelry a man with a goat's ears, tail, legs.
satyr
Dream in a dreaming-17.11.24
All she ever was
me dreaming
she felt just like a dream
lost
No way home
Revelation
NIN & Amy
On turntable
crash
after we smash
perchance
to
Dream: a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep. 2) the thing life wants to crush 3) a vision on long legs
dream
Rock-11.11.24
you’re my rock-raspy voice
Seriously?
I feel hollow
propping you up
Is all that keeps me up
just empty
But what
I have is yours
don’t owe us
A thing
you get us stoned
Rock: stone · 2. a piece of crack cocaine 3. )AKA "rock'n 'roll". · 4.)to be cool. 5)you feel that you can depend on them and that they will always support you. :
Morphing into rock
Love vandals-8.11.24
fragments
rode in a pink flamingo
Tiger green eyes glowing
From a fire within
A break from
High cost of living theatre
ä Break from the reign of
ordinary
Destroying reality
Destroying space
Destroying time
To swim in
the clear light
Vandal: a person who deliberately destroys or damages public or private property 2)Germanic people that ravaged Gaul, Spain, and North Africa in the 4th–5th centuries and sacked Rome in AD 455.
Love vandals
Dia de los Muertos-02.11.24 03:00
medicine
Aways brings closer(an elixir wrought by shamans and outlaws
Give my love
To the angel of death(never takes me)
The veil
betwixt living and dead
fiction
Give us your hand
no words
needed
Angel of Death was our favourite lover
But today
Punk Orpheus and Eurydice
All Soul’s Day: Catholic holiday when the living remember our beloved deceased family and friend AKA Dia de los Muertos
redemption and resurrection
Dia de los Muertos
Ongoing sporadic journal of the overeducated, and underemployed. The title derived from Coupland’s description of cubicle land; the corporate ghetto. Random photos and thoughts. Left the ghetto, never happier. This still a work in progress