Darker Poetics

Here's two of my poems, one about remembering when I used to cut myself, and one about black metal. Both slightly darker than "Sunrise Library" but fuck writing happy poems all the time. Sometimes you need to get all depressive and dark up ins.

A Meditation on Self-Mutilation(Past Memories Dredged)
by poetpunk
2012 April 16 12:24:27

A self hate
that cannot be denied
a body
that is
internally reviled,

Why not pierce this
wretched skin
and watch the
truth of blood?

Why not see if
this horrid form
still has blood to bleed?

Or has the blackened remains
of a heart long lost
stopped the pumping of
the true redness of being?

Has my soul
stagnated?

Has my spirit
no longer moved
or is it no longer true?

To tear the flesh
seems the only
rational action
from this irrational mind,

And yet it's funny
it's not the actual
blade breaking skin
that is pain,

Rather it's the
very anticipation of the act
the act of holding the blade
above the skin
that causes the most pain,

And even after
there is no
validation
beyond the fact
that I still feel pain
that I still bleed,

How pointless
this act of self-violence
how pointless too
is this self hate,

I've long since
discarded the actions
and the scars too are gone
but the hate remains still,

coiled like a viper
ready to strike
when my guard is low
and when there is no moon
in the night sky.

And boom, here's this here poem about black metal!


Corpse Children Arise
by poetpunk
2012 April 16 11:27:22

From crypts and caves
of our own culture
we have been entombed,

But hear the call
stand now my fellows,
for as this current
monoculture rots
in the throes of mediocrity
we still remember,

We remember the power
we remember the pure despair
and we remember the call
but did we heed it
my comrades
in corpse-painted arms?

We are no Lost Forgotten Sad Spirits
nor will we fade into the
Funeral Fog,

We must remember
"the strength that lies in contemplation"
and stand tall
even though we may be
"Shit out of luck"
and we shouldn't "give a fuck"
"This is the life we choose/We are the road dogs form Hell",

Fellow corpse children arise
because after those aeons
when death has died
we'll inherit the earth
and ride the tides
back home to where we belong,

This world is not for us
but shall we make it
into our own image?

Shall we make our
bleak and rotted sign
upon the world
and break the chains
of tyrannical mainstream
laws of music?

Storm the walls
break the gates
show them
we shan't wait,

Can't you see it
brothers and sisters?
This Blaze in the Northern Sky?

It's call must be heeded
we must break
These Years of Silent Sorrow
and ride once more,

Our message must be heard
our shrieked message
can shatter
even the strongest walls,

Let us scream out
our own insignificance
into the void of the world
and find power,

We are all gods and goddesses
in our own rights
as is the world,

But do we heed this primal knowledge
or let it fade away
as others seek to
subvert our thoughts
and tell us that
divinity lies outside?

Shall we let them,
my fellows,
tell us who
and what is divine?

Shall we let them
tell us that
the beauty of the woods
where the trees dream
of times long past
are not divine?

Shall we allow
them to deny us
to see our whole world
as the divine thing it truly is?

Do we buy into their lies
that Heaven is
outside of earth
and humankind?

I reject their lies
my comrades
so I take up my guitar
and I scream
as a corpse
for a world that is lied to,

I howl in sorrow
for a whole people
lied to by selfish men
who tell us that
outside of the world
lies the kingdom of heaven,

I'll scream it to the stars
that we are all divine
and that we shouldn't
be followers
of anyone except
that which our own divinity permits,

Hear my words
Corpse Children
I'm screaming out
with the voices
of many long gone,

Know your own divinity
know your own power
know that you are strong
Corpse Children
Arise!

So yeah, that's what the fuck I've been writing lately.