APM

Poetry and Thoughts.  "Requiem and Revelation"   "Lexicon"  "Internal Sedition" "The Nephilim Scriptures"(in progress)  Kik: andrewrequiem Andrew.Marheine@Gmail smahwords.com

[requiemandrevelation]

To Taste Only Salt.

The augments of evil sleep naught

But for the lengths of sin we recognize.

To fish the shores of abject Good

Requires the overcast shadow of an absent God.

Searching a depth within a shallow self

Shipwrecked and sunk to a watery hell.

League upon league under

To search the bottom,

Phosphorescent void

Sheds no light in the blackwater.

Swallowing brackish to

Release salted and muted screams

There can be no light

In this unknowable sea.

[requiemandrevelation]

The Traitorous Knife.

Now you scream at me

Words in smoke,

Passed by

Like a breath of exhalation,

Ashes in air like snowflakes

Remnants of all that meant everything to me

That you burned between us.

Now laying languid,

Seeping sanguine

From every wound you inflicted,

Every stab directed at the heart,

Missed so many times

Until striking true,

The blood, my own, upon my hands,

The ones that forged for you the knife.

The sky is grey with thunderclouds,

The rain itself yet burns,

And all I see are smiles

As the mud around me churns.

Covered and disgusting,

Pregnant with regret,

Repugnant of all I ever was

I'll crawl away, alone, instead.

[requiemandrevelation]

The Cult Of Night's Sorrow.

The porcelain moon reflects

Back down between the

Subtle twinkles of

Cosmic eyes in the black abyss

Capturing imagined creatures

And beasts caught in

Stop-motion portraits

Of themselves during

The only time of night

They are truly themselves

And so hunted.

Guarding in the attempts

To cast out inner demons that

Have faces not unlike their own,

They seek refuge in that starry

Blanket from, understandably,

Themselves.

Wagering wit within without

A doubt in tow, it's apparent

These monsters, secluded

And cloistered, shall

Thereby never grow to love again.

[requiemandrevelation]

Ways To Fight Depression (That Worked For Me)

Depression affects millions; it’s incredibly vicious, and a coward of a disease. It likely is something some of the people you love most are dealing with, and I can’t stress enough that...

[requiemandrevelation]

Andrew Marheine

if you like my poetry at all please check my professional writing site out. I’m trying to live my dream of making enough money so that i can write everyday. If you like the content all i ask is you share it here or to your facebook or IG, it would really help me out. Thank you all so much for keeping up with my poetry and helping me build the confidence to put other written work out there. i’m also always taking ideas for articles or lists or anything you might be interested in. If you want to collaborate on something (professionally, creatively or otherwise) I’m happy to do it, give me a shout at Andrew.Marheine@Gmail. you guys are awesome.

Cheers,

andrew

[requiemandrevelation]

The Frost Fear.

O to the lengths I have gone,

The lies I have told to

Save only myself!

I hate all of my

Hypocrite, sacrosanct lies,

These words are beguiling,

Sending sense of devotion,

My weak body fails me and aches

My maggot infested mind rots

The best I could ever do for you

Is let you die.

You fear the winter

This creeping chill

This scream on the wind

Haunting still,

But I've sought that frigid gust

Since first I heard its

Hollow call.

In my panicked mind I hear

Only one resonant whisper

Echoing endlessly!

Spake the cold:

"Come,

Engage in my languid embrace,

The only love you've ever known,

And be

Satiated upon the wines

Of disparate darkness

Which shall become your home,

I'll keep you in the falling blizzard snow

That dances with the fog in tow

And protects against the light of day,

That, should it find you, would reveal

The truth that would you enslave.

Therefore, must your sins be hidden,

Find in me this frozen place,

You seek with ghastly vision,

An entombment among the haze!

Cultivate your sacrifice,

Divulge in me your will to die,

Come, keep still, and petrify,

Whisper obsessions that putrefy,

I'll keep at bay your Agony

And let you suffer eternally."

I hear you but I can't breathe

My eyes are screaming but I can't speak

I am the blood dripping from the knife in your back,

I am the torment of misplaced faith.

I look out on the world searching for something

And find I hear rhythm on time with the grey rain.

[requiemandrevelation]

Another Prison.

I've laid the foundation,

Swiped the mortor,

Laid the brick,

To build the walls

Of the next prison

I've found myself in.

It calls to me in some

Semblance of something...

I can't identify it exactly

It's wholly annoying

And when I see the final product,

With the bars and cells,

All with my name on them,

I see the faces around me there,

That I see every day here,

Accusing or condemning,

Could it be both...?

Every second feels like a life sentence,

Awaiting an injection,

God forbid the quickness of

A neck bending hanging,

I find it preferable to not again

Look forward to anything

Because when it doesn't happen,

Even though I knew it wouldn't,

It disembowels the very pitiful

Pieces of hope I foolishly might have had.

Secretive, steadfast and solemn sorrow,

Bereaved of life to swarm my unloving discontent,

Boundless oblivion swallows me in its depths,

The eternal void voracious in dispense,

I cannot see, I cannot breathe but I feel a nothing longing distant,

Quieter qualms drown me in their bosom,

Blossoming sour honeysuckle bemused in the sun's torment,

It falls to me to create substance out of panic,

Though creating my own minds' deathtrap

My only prior knowledge,

Ghastly gallows torture me with their visage,

A promise of peace for just only more pain,

None of this, or anything, holds meaning,

And in that sad truth I'm even more enraged,

Though even that itself is meaningless and selfish,

When intrinsically without it,

For it will always be,

No one, and rightly so, gives a shit.

[requiemandrevelation]

Ill Suited For Rank.

Traitors conducting sacrilege mark penance to their lying Light

Heretical zealots perform prayer to self-sanctify,

Upon their fractured soapbox they spew forth virus like a parasite

Their internal structure crumbles as we take the coming night.

Death.

Death rages with each and every condemned we take,

Their oaths made only for them then to break,

Self righteous in their metered, soulless stake,

This darkened blood lust we will satiate.

These bottom feeding scum held high to only fall from forsaken clouds,

This endearing, longing death does me forever enshroud,

Entombed between a lie and worse, I cannot shake only the ground,

I will covet as they plummet what it must be like to drown.

These writhing wrathful beasts cannot be cured, can't be contained,

They must be all dealt with the same,

They cannot be given more chance to stain

The Nothing that we have all remained.

[requiemandrevelation]

A Son, In Atrophy.

All things measured in monetary weight,

Not love, not what seems real love anyway,

Is this the way it's done?

Justification for dictation of life through another

By way of cash?

The buying of our indulgence

Rather than the affection of flower to bloom?

Do I not have enough literal money,

To play at this figurative casino?

A trade was made, I refer to it half joking,

Not because I doubt it's true,

For I have perceived it so,

But rather for the resentment and bitterness

That courses through me

Each time it crosses my mind.

For the first time in my life,

Something changed here,

Something so wonderful,

An overwhelming sense of bond,

Ripped away, made nonexistent,

As dead as fall, as real as nothing.

What I most cherished, stolen with naught a word.

The ghosts of my former self

Scream at me through bloodied tongues.

"Think. Justify this. Rationalize. You're nothing."

I'm nothing.

In my worst of times I'm distraught to think,

Am I really so unbecoming?

So vulgar?

A vision, made real, depicting all you never wanted?

If perhaps it's half as bad in heaven,

For males will make God in the image of their father,

Then I stand a great chance of being invisible,

Perhaps mildly entertained to keep up

The appearance of patriarch

From time to time.

To then be thrown to Abyss.

I deserve no Eden.

I wanted so desperately to be everything I see in you,

While perhaps holding some sense of self, If not for my own sanity,

Than for my sense of pride if I ever

Could achieve in your eyes and my own

Myself become something at least

Moderately likeable to your measured gaze.

Am I so worthless?

I've asked for much,

At my worst, too much,

And if true, I'd understand.

At the least, I would pretend to.

If solitude and vacancy bereft

Specifically of the space I occupy Is what you would want,

I would try to respect it.

Am I so disdain worthy?

I've kept every moral,

Every thought,

Breathed to myself in life

The words in your voice to mine ears,

What should be.

What is right.

And yet still I find myself wanting.

Half measured.

Sub par.

A cut below.

Am I such that I shouldn't have been?

[requiemandrevelation]

We The People, In Atrophy.

We are the twilight of our dying minds,

You are the parasite dying of poor nourishment.

Ending far ahead of where we began,

We bring our own extinction, it's our blood on our hands.

These discriminate distinctions we cast upon each other

Waste the precious time we could have used

To become more.

Almost speechless, left aghast of fellow Man,

I think we'd have been better off dying in our caves.

[requiemandrevelation]

In Thought Allocation.

Tender thoughts lost long upon ages,

Formless intentions self stitched and scarred,

Reliance on relentless and arrogant sages,

The prophecied gallants humorless and marred.

I came upon an old path left dusted by the years,

Tantalized by everything wrought upon its face,

I then began trudging, begrudged in my footsteps,

The fog around wraith-like enshrouded in grey haze.

Decaying sycamores rose up upon the pathflanks,

Rendering the mist shadowed or maybe enslaved,

Walking along for what felt like a lifetime,

I wondered more than once why I had first engaged.

Though creeping along, ever fearful and mistaken,

I found that a calmness took me in its breast,

I stepped then more forceful, surrounded by darkness,

And made my way further on without rest.

Hearing what I could have mistaken for wildlife,

The dying trees revolted to the sun staring sacred,

Their moans and sways carried through the mist then,

It could have been minutes, hours or days.

I took relief in the solemn fact

That I could have passed at any old time.

[requiemandrevelation]

Self Extinction.

Living life in a hole dug deep in the ground,

I've yet to find anything profound,

Perhaps I'm not looking through the right frames,

It all seems so pointlessly gallant, enraged,

I endeavor in my struggle to find resources,

Seeking something like solace in all its enforcements,

I neglected to mention there's a ladder to the top,

Escaping this hole seems easy enough,

But dealing with the cold of each new frigid day,

I used the rungs closest, tried warmth, made flame,

How spectacularly metaphorical I rather think

I am the only one to make me extinct.

[requiemandrevelation]

Aspect Of Hate, In Atrophy.

Through countless, repeated and worthless years, I've never found flaw in hating here, In hating you, in hating me, For hating every fucking thing, All that effort to disagree, To antagonize while "freeing me" I find it work, labor for free, Aimless like everything else, All for such a pathetic creed. Every piece of human filth Destroying thought without guilt, Every failure in adaptation, I used to say, would bring damnation, Fuck it, we're here and here to stay, I wouldn't have it another way, Bring it all, Bring plague, bring famine, I want The Fall, From Second Coming to Ragnarok, I do not care, just cull the flock. Fuck. Surreptitiously founding false prophets and loss, Begging forgiveness for all our faults, Resurrect insurrection, sedition and death, I fail to see what could be left. Young enough to be stupid to hope, Old enough to know that's shit for show, Young enough to wonder where dreams stem from, Old enough to know that only death will come, Young enough to know what is, Old enough to know how fucking stupid that is, Young enough to work and try opening a door, Old enough to be tired and wish less of my arrogance was more. I sometimes think, am I the only one here? Could I really be aside of all my peers? I don't have many, though one steadfast fear, Is that I'm pathetic enough to think that's clear; That I am only alone in thinking I am worth what I am not. Speaking of which, the above paradox: I'm worth nothing. Not in the bitchy, fucking infantile "woe is me," With the countless diseases we collect between, I mean much more the real and passing sense, That our existence makes no difference, What we're worth is less than shit, Yet we can't help but think we're "it." How is this not seen or felt, Not acknowledged with what we're dealt? Fuck. You useless, fucking nonproductive parasite, A fat and rotten fruit on the vine, Fall off, serve purposes made-up, and die, Realize this place isn't the orchard you describe. You piece of grit, fucking spec of dust, The iron in the clock that can't help but rust, You grind and creak if ever you turn, Snapping cogs around you as you impatiently squirm, You fucking amoeba in constant distress, Biologically incapable of progress, Putting the rest in stable duress Acting as if this is acceptable congress, You fucking shadow, passed by all, Shining only for the sun in Fall, Waiting for some audience call Ignorant of the reason you loll, You worthless half a drop of water in all the oceans, With your asinine currants of poisonous devotion, Drowning the beach in sulfurous seafoam broken, If I were a God, your extinction I'd have chosen. I'm too fucking tired, Too fucking hateful of hating anymore. Betrayed and berated by myself for the sake of the rest, I cannot but help this fucking world detest.

[requiemandrevelation]

Aspect Of Love, In Atrophy.

I want to dig out your entrails Not in bloodlust, not for your pain, But to see if your heart is there, To see what your humanity contains. I cannot but help to wonder At night before I drift off, In the small hours of the morning, During night terrors in which I call, Can you hear me screaming? Can you feel the warmth of lifeblood? Do you watch me drowning, Thinking I'm getting what I should? I am ever so buried Between the dirt and you, That I hardly think I'm familiar, What's left, you've misconstrued. Do you think you mean nothing to me? Does that fear grip you before sleep? Are your nightmares a result of me, Or has my poison into you seeped? I would have you know something, If it's not so much to hear. I'd put my hands in boiling water If it meant I could touch you again. I'd gouge my own eyes out If it was promised you were the last thing I saw. I'd deafen myself with icepicks If only to hear you say "I love you" once more. When I discuss myself I am disgusted, When I make you bitter I am embittered, If you are to call, I'll come calling, If I am to be alone, I hope you're never lonely. In even the loving dark, you are the most beautiful sight, The sun only finds me when you let in the light.

[requiemandrevelation]

How long is your penis

Hard or soft?

[requiemandrevelation]

A Hole In The Jug That Waters The Desert.

A battle embedded in mind and mercy, A cry for help despised the clergy, The braindeath of some purposed by many, I see and saw the words cast heavy. It seems to be in broken wake That I, who am vengeful, do forsake, I let the dark my ill mind take, I have no soul for it to break, At night, each eve, for once being one, The day brings light and thus "undone," A midnight addiction in flesh and blood, I need cauterization of all love, Keep what is there from ever growing, Never let it at all be showing, Decimate this drying earth While watering it with useless mirth.

[requiemandrevelation]

Horripilation.

A feather across the skin of your back, A crippling thought of dread attacks, An open window in a cold, damp room, The first sight of your bride or groom, Hearing at night dead children play, Witnessing arterial spray, The ghastly whistle of a throat cut deep, The feeling that something behind does creep, A ragged voice from beyond the air, The realization that you no longer care, The thought of flesh between your teeth, The nails that do the chalkboard screech, The visual effect of your parents entombed, The late night thoughts of your own doom, The expected cancer from habits unbroken, The instances when you should have spoken, The folding of paper and scratching of pen, A shadowed stranger flashing a grin.