ACupOfTeaAndPoetry

Between the "every-once-in-a-while"'s And the "once-upon-a-time"'s There are Heroes and Villians Empires and Fiefdoms Operas with belting singers Marching armies with war drums But there are also cracks in the foundation Through which to slip through There is the static between stations Where there is too much information for music There are personas neither protagonist, nor antagonist, nor peasant or specter They are the sinew connecting darkness They are radium in the heather They are in the background of the crowd shot Looking straight through the camera One of them is Lucy They always told her she's S.P.E.C.I.A.L. But more than they ever could have known Conventions wouldn't have her story told But I don't care, so here it goes... Born under the star of the antivaxer Wasn't as dumb as the others But crazier than ever Led chip diet and inhaling the fumes That the bus stop below blows into her room No questions needed, the truth she already knew. Like how the senators are

If the ego that we build For ourselves is living Then this is a destruction An apocalypse That no one made-up can survive Take my hand, now withered by pain Caress the moss on my fingers And come with me where horizon never ends Where the time is always present If memories are ocean waves Then I will be the sun My lava scorching the seabed that we walk Ash falls upon bleached corpses And new life sprouts, cleansed of spirits We have no future For we’re not built on abstract wishes We have got no past For it was not us who came into this place If blackness is fright Then let me wrap myself in darkness Underneath rocks and entangled roots I will hold the very earth with care I will seep into it naked I will leave my flesh and bones behind Not afraid to disappear For there is nowhere that this mind could hide And I will let the earth absorb me I will hear its rumbling within my own breath "Stone, sand, mud and living creatures There is need for all shapes and forms They all belong

Каию You dared reaching your greedily sprawling hand into Europe again... It wasn't even 24 hours before rockets slammed into civilian homes A fitting aesthetic for what was a War Crime all along I heard your speech It was like Goebbels wrote for Stalin Revisionism 305 Advanced Propaganda that harkens Back to glory days that never were While spitting husks of language into the camera You are a liar, a murderer, in short, a dictator and to you the world is a house of kidnapped whores I live two hours of flight next door In a country that has done the same shit you try to pull before Blitzkrieg Lebensraum Blood and soil Something we claim can happen nevermore ...then we turn on the news And we see that one man's madness stands above international generations efforts of change As it always has I know I'll see all politicians in hell When you get there you might wanna holler at Cyrus the Great He could tell you about some S.H.I.T Regarding Empires and their

Winter is dancing Sweeping flurries crystalize Grand jete blizzard

Who’s the shadow underneath the mask Who’s the sad clown With a knife behind her back Who’s the secret whisperer And the maker of all dreams Who’s the fragile thread That connects present with the past Who’s the conqueror of pain Who is the child hurt and who licks the scars Who’s the voice that never stops As long as time ticks Who’s the watcher behind the tinted glass The true self never dies Covered by dirt and shame it hides It struggles its way through the tides The shadow and the mask The nameless one behind both lies

The rats in the hallway just might be humans It feels like a whole „first-half-of-the-20th-century“ in here between twilight and evening before I can return to feeding I don’t collect blood in goblets I‘m looking for something more involved Walk with a hobble to hide your sword I always use flags for oil rags I‘m looking for something less revolved Around the bends and blues Of a Spirit or a Ghost I‘ll point a Ouija board south To where my trash is I hope I wont add it to the island of plastic When I toss it When I admit that I lost it When my joints produce creaking groans You’ve seen the things I wrote You wouldn’t feel the same about me If you saw my humble abode Sometimes I‘d prefer it if I could be Nothing but my liner notes I‘d just hunt the neophytes That try to take my city for ca$h Take your anemic ass back to university, stat Gentrification disturbed the BeatniK combat class Consummate a Black Flag mass It’s just another day down The Left Hand Path The way

snow falls gracefully floating and fluttering down winter’s butterflies