Eulogy Menage
Simultaneous terror
Hair stood on end
500 million volts
Bolt and Clap are one
Human Communion with
An impersonal god and goddess.
His load delivered
to her surface
Through blood and bone.
Painless instant transition
Is of no concern to them.
As all bodily fluids boil
Boots burned through
Bad end to a good day
In the deep woods
My Bleached remains found
By a fellow wildcrafter
Years later
amidst a huge chanterelle flush
Picked up my skull and said
"Ah the Heretic Vicar, I knew him once!"
_______________________
DEATHSTYLE
Hey kid welcome to the human race
Got your carbon chain shackles and a working cranium
Prepare yourself to take your slice
Of Gaia's pie.
This progressive linear resource butchery
Has been our phillistine practice
in many ways
throughout hominid existence.
Rules are :
Consider yourself the last generation.
We all thought we were.
whoever digs the deepest hole wins.
Blinders on stay focused.
Never mind the noise or chemical smoke.
Give No quarter to the woke.
Step on toes. Compete!
It's the 4th Reich
Fuck the liberal elite!
Eat their lunch.
Remain in denial.
Never play fair or they'll win.
Dig like a pig for 80 years give or take.
If your lucky grab your chest.
Sorry you were born so late
You may BE the last.
No American Dream for your kids.
Bear Witness to human extinction.
30 or 40 ice ages from today
The cock roaches will say
The monkeys had their chance.
_______________________
I don't know how deep the well.
the angels won't tell .
they frequently speak through my pen.
They're here again.
Provide the only thing that makes me excited about life anymore.
guided trips through my grey matter imagery. Hamsterwheel chatter..it never stops.
Goddess forbid if it did
of what use would I be.
_______________________
Memories of war
Abhorrent acts
On the Killen floor
Faces live forever in
Minds eye
Thin veil Rationale
It was them or me.
Thought I could drink away the feelings
But it doesn't work anymore
Thousand mile stare
I'm back there
Like it was yesterday
_______________________
Whats left after closing time
All the shred and drama done.
Only music fit for listenin
In my arrogant opinion
More stories of the killen floor and my dying day
played on some slack key resonator
Preferably a Pegamule with an abalone inlay..don't make it sound no better
Just pretty like a full body tattoo girl
Curled up around my soul
Might as well dream still
While I'm on this side of the dirt
_______________________
I have a part in all my wrongdoing
I can no longer point the finger
Serenity exited long ago
Insomnia coupled with amoral thoughts
Too much late nite chocolate
_______________________
YAQUI TANKA
Ain't they the same place
Killen floor and prayen ground
Transition spirit
Death approaches from the left
Yaqui desert sorcerer
_______________________
Looken foreward to
tea with a coven
adorable michigan druids.
Dredlocks, snakebites.
Faces tattoo'd
With celtic knots
And ravens.
Conversation kept light;
as I'm the only man
seeking divination advice.
A misplaced word
might be
misinterpreted as a slight.
Resulting in a curse ,Jinx, or hexes
Cast the bones, read the stone.
Melodic incantation
Tell me witch!
What do you scry?
Does intuition say she's the one?
Do I give it another try?
Or preserve my occluded heart
And say goodbye.
©️2024 Heretic Vicar All rights reserved.
Voracious reader but lately doesn’t have the time.
From an auld Bucks County family of poets (brother and grandmother were both published).
Despite working around the performing arts, Chris didn’t pursue creative writing or performance till a year ago when; through some introspective journaling to cauterize a broken spirit he noted certain phrases had a ring. After attending a fellow poet’s funeral he was invited to read at the New Hope Beats gathering and hasn’t looked back! He now seeks to be published, travels to many open mics and hosts a Thursday monthly read at the Living Room Ardmore. His work has been described as ruminating introspective.
