More oldies

Here's some more old stuff I dug out of the closet. Soem people talk about the Good Old Days... eugh...


Stop (1996)

Time is indiscreet
It makes its way
like a bulldozer

Mauling forward
burrowing
patterns
of the crude characters
we become.

Revaling the cheap
Groszian charicatures
these
bags of bone
are meant to be.

Man seems to need
the Freakshow
Like God needs
Man
So who needs God?

Does he know?

Lost in a nightmare of his own
creation.

Raw images
Pain equals Love
Mindless mechanics
endless.

There are no real answers to be found
Ridicule and scorn
only reflecting
what really is.

Truth?
Faded.

A slow spiral of
man
without direction
in his own illusion
of destiny.

Dying.

Say hello
to the grey cranium
in the bathroom mirror
Eyes like a crazed dog.

Stare back into
void
nothingness.

No love here.

Keep breathing.
Keep taking notes.
Forgive nothing.
Forget nothing.
Register every single second.

Fear not
the cut.

the minds eye
growing blind
as the crisscrossing sinued flesh
scabs and callouses
relentlessly
cover it

I wish
I could open up.
Pull it out.
And stab that fucker
to death.
Slice it
dice it.

A bullet in my head
one hole
neat
big enough for a finger
to
tear
pry
and dig my hand into
that hate.

Dress up
Make up
Put on
another face
shake the illusion right into place
Cast the right spell
Modern world
Televised and color-corrected
Each action
a pornographic 3D exercise
in all its glory.
Voyeurist
truth
the face of cowardice.
The soul of fear.
There is no love.
None.
End.

(allrightsreservedPeter Dolving 1996)