Le Char de La Mort

I want to grow up to be a debaser

[chardelamort-blog]

10 years is a long time To sweat into a nameless machine Transforming and hurling private horror Vibrating across a disinterested void But 10 minutes as the machine Is far worse Sometimes I really have nothing Left to say I am my own exoskeleton, Dried under an expensive and indifferent sun

[chardelamort-blog]

you are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor how shall it be seasoned? it is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. 

[chardelamort-blog]

Me sera-t-il permis aujourd'hui d'ouvrir un tombeau devant la cour...? J.b. Bossuet, sermon sur la mort

[chardelamort-blog]

Joakanaan

If only, sweet-eyed Salome I could tell you all the thoughts I have had in this last hour

All the spleens agitations Flagellations Blanks

But you would sooner have My head on a silver platter

[chardelamort-blog]

Train Train

take me on your first trip to nowhere-

selfless mountains have nothing to conceal

because they are in fact nothing

Maybe some day I can ride this silver bullet

into myself, the only ishmael,

and find some perfume-eyed prophet to tell

me what is next

call me ishmael

and then I can call myself

by only my favorite stories

feed me all your worst poisons,

alcohols to preserve everything I have lost

and watch me sweat them out

[chardelamort-blog]

Ten years ago I pursued beauty and gave no thought to money. I listened to the lovely tunes of Mahler and felt a sickness in my very soul. Now I pursue money and on the whole feel better. 

-Walker Percy "The Moviegoer"

[chardelamort-blog]

babylon

On Christmas day

I walked down down to the ice guilded Rhine

and the king of shadows asked me:

“are you for sale?”

What could I do but blush

laugh my stupidest laugh

“to whom

and how much?”

Of course, that hardly mattered-

what does anybody want 

but to be wanted

and a reward?

But when I had my hands on my prize

i only saw

that i had nothing left to sell

For i was the king of shadows, and he I

O for a harp in my calamity

when mine is stuck to the willow

[chardelamort-blog]

All the women i have ever loved live in los angeles and don't know each other;

the only boy i ever liked lives above a bakery

[chardelamort-blog]

patres nostri peccaverunt et non sunt

[chardelamort-blog]

rome

two ghosts under a she wolf

(were you even there

or are you just the a ghost of a ghost)

  what to do?

  bludgeon with aspirin concepts

and poison

with formeldehyded dreams?

  no assurances are blessed

like knowing that there is nothing left to create

except some looping images of this city

engulfed in flames

[chardelamort-blog]

a little bit cheaper than i need to

Je ne sais pas si tu sais

mais bien sûr tu le sais bien

  qu’un de tes regards dans l’autre sens

me fait plus que dix regards dans mes yeux

tes yeux pales et vides

qui me font voir moi-même

ils me repulsent

  Mais quand tu me fais pénétrer

par ton absence calculatrice

et quand tu me noie dans une indifférence

qui aurait pu être aussitôt la mienne

je me sens inflammé au point de te faire le plus profond mal

et pareille à moi même

sancta maria ora pro nobis

[chardelamort-blog]

2014

  How many caulk eyed loreleis can there be

beneath that silt churned channel

  their disdain makes the festeburg shiver

and themselves even more alone

  You make me feel like a burning bush

inflamed but never consumed

[chardelamort-blog]

Au bar

En fait tu me prends pour un gros mou

tu as raison mais si tu savais

  c’est juste

que

  Fin

  quelle horreur d’être moi même tout le temps

quand je pourrais être personne en particulier

[chardelamort-blog]

[chardelamort-blog]

Narcissist Echo Fantasy

Visp————

  I could easily kill for an echo

to my strange fugue of narcissism

  Busy old fool, unruly sun

shine here to us, and thou art everywhere:

This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere

  These lightless mountains of Visp dont embrace me

they rape me

and they thrash

my self into all things that will scare me

tomorrow

  —— dont me me

thrash me tomorrow————

————————————————————————————————————————

Veillée Atroce (Milhüse)—————————

  Quel Bordel

  Who, besides everyone,

would have seen me as a saltimbaque

in this city with no past

besides its own predestination

  "You know that I never did anything with a man before you?"

  Flesh of norman neo-medieval rafters

mortified in whitewash

  "be flattered"

  The elect crush their wills to a benevolent destiny

  ‘Well i’ve never slept before with an American- be flattered"

  Je suis le maître du bruit

I am my own shade

————————————————————————————————————

Visp (through a glass darkly) ——————

  ——-don’t me me thrash me tomorrow———

  Don’t just stare at

me, sterile schwytzer barracks, at least show

me some disdain

thrash me with with your indifference, for

  Busy old fool, unruly sun

shine here to us, and thou art everywhere:

This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere

Tomorrow you will hardly know me