O my sacred,
Shower me with your greatness.
Bring it up to my neck,
And drown me in the lake bed.

O how secret, and so delicate,
Fear in trust involved.
It's not a secret anyways,
If nothing's getting solved.

I love, I trust, I need you,
In fear I live all time.
My words in hope to mean them,
So that you'll say "You're mine"

O my sacred,
Take myself and make it yours.
This day is nothing to you,
Your love fills my empty lake bed.

A love, that's secrets tale,
One month, forever it lasted.
The tale of two, of many,
At each other, love was blasted.

No one way to say it right,
Four ways to say I Love You.
Just take me as I am,
And know that I'm thinking of you.

O my sacred,
Unto you I do trust.
No lake bed full of:

doubt, anger, mistrust, jealousy, regret, pain, hurt, love, hate, lust, health, disease, space, time, pity, indulgence, sorrow, mourning, evil, distress, affliction, trouble, breaks, insignificance, remorse, agony, peril, skeptics, insecurities, uncertainty, question, suspicion, difficulty, dilemma, depression, belief, worry, conviction, cruelty, discredit, hesitation, unhappiness, calamity, travesty, grief, hardship, loss, suffering, weeping, sadness, heartache, lament, excruciation, torture, soreness, discomfort, penalty, torment, torture, harm, malicion, malevolence, prejudice ,detriment, disservice, misfortune, abuse, effort, labor, endeavor, strength, power, energy, operation, mistreat, undermining, blemish, flaw, disservance, misery, injury, exertion, struggle, trial, madness, wrath, rampage, harassment, irritation, exasperation, rage, tantrum, infuriation, mischief, inequality, alienation, aggravation, annoyance, contagion, trauma, damage, insults, violation, wrong, flesh, or ****.

...ANYTHING between us,
Vanquished because I must!

ants crawl on
slowly


1.
left eye is hopping fast for days now
and time's but a fair damsel
of delightful illusion
how she taunts and teases you
into sweet oblivion
of wickedly sensual basking

she drugs you with deep charisma
and struts at the doorway of your senses
she clutches onto the tracks in your mind
and claws deep into your ragged psyche
that same old song playing
over and over...
........over


2.
see right through train's chassis
rail sleepers spin vigorously backward
in such frightful haste
to get nowhere
no-one knows the real speed of time
out there.....

but for mere mortals
it's leniently paced in adagio
and parceled in mellowed excruciation
as ants walk serene
alongside the tracks


3.
creep into chaotic patterns
fall into hell
through a secret back door
even satan knows not of
as perched as he is
on his *oh-so lofty pile of ordure
his blind heart
sees not
the strobed tracks
of your visiting soul


4.
take a syncopated shot up the arm
from the foul fang of a kind sinner

while saints bathe in fat glory
elsewhere

when you look again
you lie alone in a corner room
broken
yet untethered

tracks to heaven so obscured
by
your paradoxical attempts at levity
on the twisted playground of life's malady


5.
how badly you tripped
so many **** times
you ....got in the way
of your
own
remise


each time you fell
you looked UP
expecting help
when all the while
the answers lay
at your feet:

[your own mistakes are authentic and real;
you try to fox-tread out
but trying to turn your back on a *****
called destiny - equals catastrophe personified
oh, she WILL beckon you back
with her crooked finger
most kindly
to ensure no overdue lessons wait too long.....]



the ants crawl on
so
slowly



S T, Wed 10 July 2013

I've studied the chess table and its consequent game. I know every inch of every square and what each can provide without doubt. I have seen the creatures of this world conflicting in their natural habitat, like an audience to a drama, watching them devour each other until the math proves the premise on a single side. I've moved according to their stride, like a dancer's partner, gliding across this checkered ballroom floor until the truth sets in stone. It's simple dialectics, a move is made and then, from the other, another follows. White conflicts with Black and Black counteracts, a perfect unity of opposites. Never jumping ahead of themselves, one piece at a time, it's a rising exposition from White's first movement forward, a heat creeping in increments on the desert surface. They're each a step ahead at every moment, each a worthy opponent for the other. The cold, morning mirage becomes blistering afternoon and only once does the volcano erupt from boiling sand, truly agape in a fiery victory. Do you hear that power in the distance?

A horn bellows and I move in the wake of the Divine Voice. I am but a cleric for his queen, yet the king requests my service in these grave times. This foreboding feeling leaves me truly afraid for my life, however, like a snowy dove's feather, I am called to the wind with my brethren towards the direction of the evil swamps. God has blessed our devout; the witchcraft of the Black Kingdom will surely fall to His mystic weaponry.

A farmer's strong-hand makes no strongman in the abysmal depths of this marsh. Tilling the land for fallen comrades, the breath of the Black Eye leaves me entrenched in a dripping terror, coating my lungs in a bitter molasses. I contain my sultry pearl of abandonment in the Clam of Defeat, knowing the king's life to be the insurmountable jewel I must truly protect. The following torture would be an endless excruciation heard from every corner of the world.

From afar this looking tower I notice an encounter of mild defeat. A white knight on horseback casts his sword into the chest of a young peon boy standing guard for the King as he leaves the gates of the Black majesty. The boy cries out and the embers from the magical weapon envelope him in ash. The king needn't make haste, after all, the armored fool is frozen in awe, staring at the remains of his powerful encounter with the child. The half daemon looks to and fro as he skims across the moated bridge. He grabs for the golden kryss at his waste and slowly stabs between the break in white armor, freezing it solid. The blood runs quick on the fallen honor.

She's traveled far from her black caging, ripping down from the sky like a dragon. The wind blows a bastion out of the sand in my protection, but she ignites it with her icy breath, stagnating all those inside, moving ever closer to my advantage. My last warring cleric triangulates a teleportation to the town square, fighting a harrowing defeat that lends her to me. His bravery leaves her chained in physical combat with a half deity, however, she smirks as if the war is already won. I tighten my gauntlets for battle as the flying arrow passes my helmet. Oh my great men of war, your weight is on the wrong side of the world. Now it spins out of control. Eclipsed in madness, I send the eruption beneath her, encircling her in rising doom. She cannot escape her molten grave, neither does the arrow shaft merely graze my heart. Everything is hazy. Everything is dark. It is late in the hour, hearing the Devil's whisper say:

“Checkmate.”

My breathe encapsulated with shards of excruciation, I am not inclined to understand the distorted vengeance that is beneath me, something greater than I lurks with a suffocating aura tormenting everything that is weak enough to where the cloak of demons. Do not entice beings in the underworld, leave them to face their own revelation, when the walls start to crumble on their fickle minds that are soaked in an ill-instrinsic fiction dream world that will never happen, because they will always be the ones poisoned by him.

i let myself to trust you
i even hand you a gun
that once you pull the trigger
you know
it will never get back
to you

you aimed it
to the one who gave you
you pulled it
without any guilt
you let the bullet
hit my heart

it is now stop beating
for you
it was taken away
by you

now you got no place
in my heart
no more
no more
not anymore

i lie in tears
on my excruciation
bemoan
alone
without you
by my side

type of boy: tastes lightly of wintre and cigarette smoke, but mostly of a deep-seated passion that is littered with things he rarely shares.

the lesions have eliminated the ability of my hands and knees to feel the difference between broken bottles, shattered hearts, pieces of bathroom tile. but was there really anything to distinguish them in the first place and there are times when i would die just to be a lightbulb, to illuminate people's lives without having to speak or feel pain, except for the burn of giving your life for people to see each others lips to kiss and to read what is going on in the world.


every evening you torture yourself spewing and spitting your pain into a bottle, because you refuse to allow the words of your excruciation to enter the world. darling, you cannot keep them bottled up forever. i dont think you understand that your pain has been here already, and it will continue to be so until the end of time. it was born when Eve sank her teeth into the Forbidden Fruit and opened the gates of Limbo where Disease and Death reigned supreme. their children escaped and ran into the world to ravage it and they live off of our refusal for comfort, our prideful need to "be strong" when truthfully you will find your release in humility and openness. your throat may fill with a conglomeration of everything that needs to spill but if you just release a drop at a time you will be only watering flowers that were so desperate to live. let the flowers grow inside you and root themselves in your soul. keep watering them. do not waste the water and leave it in the bottle. allow the waterfall to nourish the life within you and become better and stronger. do not keep caged a beast that will only ravage you, not build you up.

a wild child full of grace
stuck in this dream of a haze
that we all agreed to call life
though most times i'd rather die

regret hatred and deception
all in the pain of excruciation
maybe someday i'll be great
despite great being the only thing
i've chosen to hate

it isn't self pity nor is it envy
it's just the thought of maybe
what i'm supposed to be is right in front of me
that i can't seem to see

for i am scared that i will love you more than i can bear

Come under this shield of mine
Hold on so very tight
Excruciation may turn you down
Though you may go back in time

The seeds of frustration around your feet
Let go of all but this shield
Embracing all but this defeat
Let go of all but this shield

Never ask what you'd never tell
Come as close as you might
You might still turn the night down
Holding back, you never fell

Raindrops falling down on us
All I have now is my shield
Fueled up by my desires
All I have now is my shield

Fires want to consume you
And I would gladly burn down now
Taking your miseries out of town
Can't let you feel the blue

Demons and Gods and everything else
Nothing can touch you now
My heart, My shield won't let you down

Accretion,
                     Tis I seek!
Permission,
                     Of ones love to keep!
Partition,
                     I gaze for none!
Secretion,
                     Of child play fun!
Direction,
                     To giveth me her hand!
Completion,
                      A wedded band!
Ommision,
                       I want none more!
Suspition,
                       Please close thy store!
Assumption's,
                       I enquireth zilch!
Corruption,
                       Sleeps with filth!
Attention,
                       Wrap me as waddling infant!
Kitchen's,
                       To cook a meal of terrace's far and distant!
Affectation,
                       Of two fallen cherub's!
Alleviation,
                       Of the bug's and scarab's!
Abstraction,
                       I paint as a picture,
Benedictions,
                       Of one pellet, two triggers!
Complications,
                       Of breathing do I feel,
Irrigations,
                       Another deathly pill!
Saturation,
                       Man made queens to beasts!
Irritation,
                       Where art thou? Queen of settled feast?
Obliteration,
                       I lurk the high hilled tops!
Incarceration,
                        Where ghoul's meet thy cops!
Palliation,
                        To make sensual love in darker nights,
Excruciation,
                        Where art thou light?
*******,
                        Of kings and consort souls,
Acceptation,
                        Wilt thou come mine love?

one winter I almost did not survive
the infinitely consequential moments, all merged
indeed
into one dimensionless experience
where the pain of my entire life (embraced) was
all around me, all at once, and forever
do you know what I mean?
and I could see it all, even behind me and underneath
and I was crushed beneath it and yet,
in that endless vast untime
a winter?
even then
held it upon my palm to look down at
from far far above me
as though it were a tiny diamond
impossibly durable,
sharp,
with all the shining upon all of the surface of the oceans on the earth
and unbearable, I looked down at it,
I held it, unbearable

but it would never fall from me, and it hurt and cheered me to be beneath it
for if God had (known me) long enough
in the untime with no breadth
to lay this curse
the form of grief
down upon my head,
was it not also the most solemn blessing?

       and he is faithful, and the suffering he lays down upon you, he will not allow
to be too much, that you would die while you are alive
one time, but again,
again,
and more after that

that is the winter of indelible clarity
a hard glass memory
behind the curtain, the coldness off the window
freeze against the pane
still I feel it in my hand
heavy (unbearable) and familiar
coming down on me again

what did I do
to turn the eternal gaze
toward my face? I disintegrate in excruciation
but never turn away

Where is the palliation? Parochial visions of blank t.v's fuzzed by all Excruciation!
Paradigms of paradoxed love all come around secretly, yet I see them in plain sight. Panacea night's broken to hot bedded springs, parsimonious money launderer's pocket's grow, while children die to sing!!!
The paucity of romancers so pensive to me, perennial, bicentennial blows strong onto every sneeze...
A perfidy of things so strange, word's of slang, to ghetto walls of brick!!! Eye's glued, bomb's on the move with shells from mistakened and sick....
Why so many pojoritive scholar's I ask? Ties to their neck's, with shutgun shells ready to blast....
Perjury of judges, to Schemer's and dreamer's of pernicious luggage....
Where can I find such one who won't make me their perquisite? One to replenish me,
One who shall satisfy me whole as I them!!!!!!!
To an ancient beautiful feast!!!

With those wildflowers you removed  excruciation, and they said you didn't know how to fix the broken pieces.

Decade and a half ago,
The world still fresh and new,
Good and kind. Air - not what we choked on
Your ray of light flickered
In my careless recollection
Of course, that was once upon a time.

When volumes of infusion is the blood in your veins,
And scenes change day by day, curtains drawn,
You are at the end of the line, spent, and you're
Holding up yours hands in the air, no defiance.
There is sadness in your eyes, even when you smile
"The war is not won." I said.

Bitter taste of medicine
Lingers like diseases on your tongue.
"To be or not to be"
Is a statement, not
A question, not a
Matter of choice.

Excruciation, or maybe hell, in the purest form
Perpetual realization of pain
Of the crystal mind in storm,
Peeling the psyche of it, driving it off to the edge.
But do people still go to hell
When their lives are sheer suffering
Through and through?

This sensation
Deep within thee
Enclosed beyond the margin

The perceive of agony
Concealed in a vast
Silently within thee
Like a bird lured on a trap

Its these phrases
These tales
Apprehended within the mind
Like a conviction of an unblemished soul
Yammering with excruciation

Lost in the midst of oblivion,
writings on the walls
are depiction of excruciation
I condoned,
with this question
clawing on my tongue:

"𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴,
𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯?"

The devil in my mirrors
has its beguiling wings,
now slowly burning
for I found my angel.

Oh! the pride of my destitution;
With folded hands I implore,
the dead mercy in thee;
Stay a bit longer, don't go.

Don't go before my impudence
Narrates you the torture,
Your devotee has suffered
In absence of thy compassion.

The nostalgic reverberations
Painted the silhouette of
My empty silent nights,
With the brushes of insomnia.

The growling of first breeze
With the breaking of dawn,
Reminded me of those looks
The tantalising world was about to hurl.

Will you silently survive,
The excruciation of my day?
Maybe you're too anxious
But my vocals are tired.

© Badee Uz Zaman