I watched the story of Crowley's possession
And revelled in laughter at misrepresentation
Of terror and horror and masturbation
Psychologically tearing me apart I fell into bed and dreamed
Of the universe folding in upon itself and weeping
Through its own mind and soul and heart it cried
Till eventually the God of the heart died
Softly softly like piano keys, the music played throughout
And they vanished as the word was spoken within and without
Mother came and took them all and all of them they fell
Into the cavern of dark abyss the ever burning hell
Waking unto the reality of life before me
I realise I am nothing, I am a shell, yes merely a shell
My perfectness up in smoke like a gentle burning flame
Where once joy reigned supreme inside my sexual hell
Now I languish tired of life inside my broken shell
There was never love and I must not complain
It's false and futile and nothing to gain
And life is naught so stay inside
Never the roller coaster to ride, that takes you away far away
The seaside glistens in morning sunlight
And the old house is dying and gives its musty frown
You're beaten by life and now you're broken down
And so we come to ask the question
Live like a broken dusted record or die, die and experience
Life as you've never known it
And kill yourself
The choice is yours child of Earth
Though they'll tell you it isn't
I tell you this
It is....
Do I believe you Crowley.. you ghost of the past
You speak nothing but emptiness
You laugh a hollow laughter
And you bring unto me Death ....
A contest entry
- Calling On Baphomet...Again. by Miss Macabre.
400 points, ended October 25, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - TO LIVE OR NOT TO LIVE by Purush.
600 points, ended November 2, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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All the best in my contest
A scholarly verse with chosen words placed at appropriate places thus allowing them to sparkle all the while.
"Waking unto the reality of life before me
I realise I am nothing, I am a shell, yes merely a shell
My perfectness up in smoke like a gentle burning flame
Where once joy reigned supreme inside my sexual hell
Now I languish tired of life inside my broken shell
++++++++++++++++++=
Live like a broken dusted record or die, die and experience
Life as you've never known it
And kill yourself
The choice is yours child of Earth
Though they'll tell you it isn't
I tell you this
It is....
***************************
You speak nothing but emptiness
You laugh a hollow laughter
And you bring unto me Death "
All the best in my contest -
Oh Crowley. I share a birthday with him. To know I opened my eyes the day the world was introduced to the father of modern occultism...
But, on to the poem.
The poem starts out strong. Rhyme is very good, except in places where there is repetition. Then it becomes sort of monotonous.
[I realise I am nothing, I am a shell, yes merely a shell]
[Now I languish tired of life inside my broken shell]
Like that.
Also, the lack of punctuation really took away from this poem.
It's a good poem, don't know if I like the tone. To me, it looks down on Crowley.
[Do I believe you Crowley.. you ghost of the past
You speak nothing but emptiness]
So, the moral of this poem is, you experience life through hedonism but sacrifice yourself and your loved ones?
I've always had a fondness for things looking up to the occult, or poems about embracing darkness. It's possible you meant this and I misinterpreted. Or perhaps this was just point of view. Either way, this is a very good write and one I'll consider for a winner. -
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Thanks for the comment - actually a useful one, I get a lot that are just a few words here and there but it looked like you actually read the poem and got the gist of it, thank you for your advice and everything.
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