Multi Coloured Perfumed Pennants

Before you start reading, if that is your intension, there is a free download available of some of these scribblings, Don Campau is the reader, most of the poetry on this recording was used in Beatnik Ressurection

Rising Sun Lubricator

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Daliesque

All beginnings conclude with the middle
This hole in the roof
And all that grass to roll
The poetry of life
If only these flowers could think
In this night so dark
Lend me your lantern
Along this road so dusty
And the rain fell in torrents
Floating in a great pool of water
Consoled by the reflection
Then he wiped his eyes
A great loss to every one
Gave a whisk with his tail
Went back into his hole – in the roof
And the storm grew
Lost in its way

(arzathon)

Multi Coloured Perfumed Pennants

Like a moon that is dreaming
For the earth and the stones
For deep still love
Those deserts of moss..
To live a sleepwalker
Hurled into darkness
Never the angel
Like him I am consumed
On the alters of solomon
I danced upon the waves
Seeped through all my seams..
The bitter reds of love
Bathing in the poem
Dreaming into birdless space
Across open spiral flaming skies..
The wanderers, poets
Love could have salvaged
Those nights slept, exiled.

(arzathon)

Deep Hush

In this poor hour of ease
Dark and cold
As soft as a prayer
A road unplanned
In the shadow of a dream
Comfort and oblivion
On which fate has smiled
Grant me to see and touch
Before the ruining waters fall
For the last sight of her face
The useless anguish of a kiss
Pondering on a rune of roses
Beyond the reach of time and chance
In the serenity of this place

(arzathon)

Veil

The monks and the musicians
Candle bearers, swingers of censers
That dance in the woodland
Where the valley of pleasure lies
And the river horses raged in the honey coloured air
Without a heart into another world
The shadow of the body
A soul of the Judas tree
That wrath of gods
Whose name is love
And of curious beauty
Behind a veil of veils
Trembling with a strange fear
Desiring to speak In a tower of apes

(arzathon)

Beyond Ulterior Lands

Between her lips and mine
Beyond the reach of hands
In some ulterior land
Love lingered a little while
And all our desire
Of dreams and days, and things unsaid
Smile for courtesy
Where the shadows and darkness meet
Love turned from us to die

(arzathon)

To The Devil’s

A dream of vulgar pleasure
Let me go my own free way
The high road in all weathers
Spiritually sober
No alien shadow
That declaration of christianity
Scoundrel priest – man like any other
Puffs himself up….Nature, bored, perhaps
From the conception
The wisdomThe last moment
Always wide awake…
Out there…rain soaked
Beyond the night
The sharpest stings of poverty
A city of civilisation – strangers without feeling
Fed on lies…Shall we escape them
The kings of life
Mind, heart and soul
The end of superstition
Regret
An eternal sun

(arzathon)

Of The Trio

The illusion
Wandered…
Dim, dusky aisles
Indulged in retrospect
In some mildewing church
This dilapidated old palace
Absorbing the catholic
An intangible instinct, or it may be fear
This modulation of sadness
Deciphered through scalding tears
That hopelessly obscured strange confession
This hallucination of time
Couched in such ambiguous terms
Let chance or fate decide the issue
Destiny has no scruples
No prayers of ejaculation
But the spirit of life…

(arzathon)

Spirit Inspiration

In the reading room of the Atheneum

Crippled old men
Castrated the honesty of government
These plagues of politics
Their waring and disasters
Knock me down, drag me along
Which beast should I adore
Terror – the human atmosphere
Dance the witches sabbath
The souls passage
Between body and spirit
Journey to the unholy land
Die of devotion
A glimpse of conversion
Of earthly love
Abandoned souls
Prisoners of reason
Precious science – delights in eternal damnation
The new nobility
In love with death
A million charming creatures
Melodious noble ambitions
Mutilated
The vision of numbers
The keys of knowledge

(arzathon)

Of Limbo

I have dreamed –
The demon that crowned me
My infamies in arrears
You, who love absence
Compassion for the crucified
Consecrated by their passing
Artists – such as are not wanted
Nothing but sweet follies
A drop of fire
Rises again into life
Hardly more than a child
Insignificant –
He so longed to escape reality
This palace they had emptied
Ascend into some assumption of heaven
Untamed – tenderness is deadly
The back-drops of antiquated literature
My magic idle sophisms
The innocence of limbo

(arzathon)

Green Nights

I’ve dreamt green nights
Muzzled the painted deep
Bathed in the poem
Seen what man thought he saw
Emptier than a childs mind
I shall be free
One soul, one body
In the breezes of the morning
Rising through the mist
Beggar, artist, martyr
Guardian of the sacred
Shall we escape them
Those eternal rewards
Modern wretchedness
Dissolved by a sunbeam

(arzathon)

Daughter Of Dreams

Dark is our church
Where the altar stands
Illustrious without light
Perfect and complete
Within deepening eyes
That old tenderness
Love and desire
Moon kissed roses
The caged universe
Star-crowned solitude
Dim nebulous lands
Sever for ever your soul
From this ultimate night

(arzathon)

Ancestors

Dear ancestors
Around the fires..

Do I know nature yet ?
Do I know myself ?

The torments of the soul
Submits to baptism
Work…
Hunger…
Poverty…
Lifes farce without end

(arzathon)

Rising Sun Lubricator

The most punctilious honour
Painting the old world red -then blue
Chameleon like colours
The permanentidiocy
With a deep battlefield groan
The gross materialism
A spectre in armour
The reckless and foolhardy youth
The suicide skeletons
A condition of abject terror
Like an evil shadow
The sound of slow music
A rusty dagger in the midnight air
Conducting horror
Hideous as a madman’s dream
On a low
Material plane of existance

(arzathon)

The Slumbering City

Wake the slumbering city from its dream
Crooked-backed forum of poverty
Children of sin
Puppets of a monstrous show
The comedy of suffering
Its grotesque want of meaning
Lacking in all harmony
The shallow optimism of the day
The real facts of existance
The dark arabesque
Of waving shadows
An odd feeling of curiousity
The scientific theory
A strange pity
In the dawn’s delicate loveliness
Inexpressibly pathetic
This pallid ghost like city
Its horrible hunger
Corroded by the shallow
Egotism of our day

(arzathon)

Smoke

Rise and fall as painted bubbles
Long strings of amber
Pinches of frankincense
The odour of pink
Fringed with little pearls
The opium smokers
Caged birds of paradise
Set free
On the feast of the new moon
The cypress trees
Like burnt out torches
Tempted –
In the ways of sin
Naked to the waist
Humanity..
Writhed like a trampled snake

(arzathon)

Corner

Softly, in the shadows
Alone in the gloom
The supreme theme
The crumbling moon
The harmony of trees
Here, it dies –
Man’s pride and all its sorrow

(arzathon)

The Other Corner

Fear the stones, in all your heads
Sorrow – immortalized in dust
Answers – your echoes ring
The temple gates – open to love
Humble proud faces
Sacret ceremonies
Those spiritual celestial treasures
Bathing in an atheists brooke
A thousand torches, that never sleep
This endless moment
Caught in the crossfire of time.

(arzathon)

Time

Time drives – the restless spheres
The gravity of the world
The flowers to fade
Desire brings, the sweet passions lie
To cancel all our vows
From life to death – beyond this mercenary drudge
The rewards of sin
The metaphysics of magic
These omnipotent studious artisans
Emperors and kings
Stretched the minds of man
To decieve ourselves
In a world of profit and delight
A strange philosophy
Harsh, contemptible and vile
An altar and a church
The regents of a perpetual night
Vain fancies and dispair
Our revolving door of time..

(arzathon)

Equatorial Solitude In Seperation

Angels of Mons
Emblem of prophecy
Baptized in the waters of the flood
Serene repose of egoism
This pestilential stew
Quinine and hope
Airlie – drums of death
Waiting for that magic touch
The spell of disquiet and suspicion
Sentimental concession
Phantasms of the living
The black raven will come
Herald the deaths head
Epona – personified in stone
Eyes like a wonderful museum
The ultimate evasion
Vividly comfortably domiciled
A certain coldness of disposition
Full of sad dignity

(arzathon)

No Forgetting

Sheets of zinc changing under my foot
The dreamless face of the suns steady acetylene
Migrant envies – watched the skies burn
They want the dead back
My wife, my children, my home
Over the pink fires, where the natives walked
Quietly American, quietly human
With sea-green eyes, with every reflection
I’m nobody, I’m a nation – folding the sea
Telling mourners around the graveside
I loved them all, the drowned, the lonely
The sailors at sea, dividing the absent roars
From the unlucky islands
But we all know
Our dust is industrial

(arzathon)

Matin

This moment of awakening
Fantastic universe, that eternity lost to us
Lights up my abyss
Quarrels with the world
The sacret aromatics of filthy education
Grumbling beggars, artists, scoundrels
From that same desert – the ghoul kings of life
Exempt from all morality – nutured with lies
Bury my imagination
A precious flame – returned to the soil
All those noisome memories
The hissing of the fires – fading

(arzathon)

Tangled Spindles

A chilling sort of grey
A dawning smile
Your strangeness and disillusioned ways
Within – you’ve set your blackest flag
Your flowers of dissolution
Consume virtue with a breath
Belongs neither here nor on earth
Stranded on stellar shores
The tangled spindles of uncovered souls

(arzathon)

Masquerade

This lifes tyrant death
Foiled, frustrated and forlorn
That last sleep
A higher calling, a steeper path
In solitude and silence
We dull our souls
With diluted strains of art
Sweet and simple
This masque that changes, yet stays the same

(arzathon)

Teach Me To

Forget all the weary things on earth
The tired veins of milk white butterflies
Seek my traces moon-struck child
Gaze on mortals with dreams of bliss
In and out among love’s hand
So solitary, beyond that milky way
No voice to speak, how its silence steals
Departs at dawns awakening
Teach me those dreams from the world of man
The low regions of the solar day
The divine completeness of a kiss
Teach me mortal fortunes
That lustrous kingdom of the heart

(arzathon)

Almost Vulgar

Intercourse was restricted
With pathetic erectness
Amenable to advances
The timid defences
Arrested by my strangeness
This aspect of shabby gentility
Nervous delicacy, refinement
A secure juxtaposition
Grovels on the floor
Then promptly devoured…
I must be at the theatre
This dingy place
Near the sky
That faint fragrance of art
Unstrung and jaded
Mocking shadows
This confusion of tongues
Seduced to soceity
Imagination…Memories
Enigmatical and notorious
Like the malice of the world
Ushered into the vague
That forlorn old age.

(arzathon)

Moon Kissed Mortals

I choose the world’s sad roses
My choice of graces
One face of all faces
Out of reach of fear
Life, death and broken vows
Beyond the reach of time
From the world of man
These dreamers all
Who sing and love
Peace….
It may not be
Soft untroubled oblivious sleep

(arzathon)

Toward The Spirit

Daughters of the church
Your cult of Mary..
Like wolves that worry the beast
Councils of christ – idle and brutal
of nobles – inferior for eternity
Vagabonds, so vague – mixed up in politics
Utterly forsaken
Going toward the spirit
Granting my soul nobility
In cities
Old roads
Rising to the skies
Innocence and the last timidity
Childish promises
Prisoners of regret
Tolerate no hymns

(arzathon)

Under The Cynic Moon

Ashes of life
Truce of love
Under the cynic moon
We dance the devil’s dance
Soul-centered, crownless and forlorn

(arzathon)

No Man’s Land

Poppies plucking scant esteem
Into the sad stream of a dream
At last the tranquil perfect flower
Grown blind, grown spectral
Consoling shadows
The sighing of the wind
Lingers
Pitiless and cold
Beneath november trees
We wanderedSpeaking silence

(arzathon)

Nothing But Smoke

My grass to roll
All my flowers to water
All I know
Nothing, nothing of this world
Feelings of hate
Nothing, nothing of these emotions
A handful of sweet herbs
With such noble ideas
And all my flowers are doing well
Free from selfishness
Smiling from ear to ear
Like the critic
The moral
Gave a whisk with its tail
For all I know
Nothing, nothing but smoke

(arzathon)

Quaintness

Drunk
He lies in wait for me
The Wars of Men
The opera of justice
Clothing cruelty with charm
That old hell
Wealth
Spattered with blood
That sick dispair
In streets
In churches
Across a dead calm sea
Mountains
Shores
The marching of mankinds slaves
Finance
Is a season of comfort
Poets and storytellers
Painters and sculptors
with a duty to seek
that rough reality
Embrace
Those ports of misery
the poetic grotesque

(arzathon)

Madness Stalked

That impulse for religion
Misfortune was its god
That look so lost, on a face so dead
Courage and destruction inspire these people
Their loathing – a motherless fatherland
Roaring debauchery of that madness disaster
Our extent of innocense
Life – a monstrous dose of venom
A glimse of conversion – happiness
Mans melodious noble ambition

(arzathon)

Wall Street

On a conspicious wall
Leaning towards the humanities
A certain savage hungry look
Rare moments of amiability
An abstract fetish
The bitterest animosity
A perpetual presence
The lust of gain
The most forlorn speculations
Feed this blackest melancholy
A ghastly mockery
The consolation of our knowing
This curious attitude
Burnt away and consumed by desire

(arzathon)

The Slide

Bored, uninformed
Like an outdated explosion
Tense, musty, unignorable silence
Going down the long slide – a voice without a face
Large scale versus, seemingly at random
So permanent and blank and true
We avoid them as unlucky places
Where promises are kept

(arzathon)

Smoky Soul

Tumultous waves of thought
Anxious and grieving
My brain became hollow
There is something to be said – for being dead
In crouching cellars – alone or together
The intimate sanctuary of beauty
Far off – a voice in my ear
Like a dream – I feel your curess
On this indifferent tide
I wave the visible world away
Into the oblivion of lost things
Into the iridescence of decay
Like a sunset in a hazy day
Fearful of hearts treason
Your phantom fevered loves remorse
Gnawing at a worlds dispair

(arzathon)

High Sea Of Wisdom

I know the system
The confines of the world
Of whirlwinds and of darkness
The crowing of the cock
I see it only now
The parasites of contempt – cruel developments
Sending enough of us damned – to the devil
We recognize each other always
Civil simple souls
The surly and joyous ones
The only elect of Eden..
Free to live a modern wretchedness
Thinking of pleasure, of escaping
This dream of vulgar wisdom

(arzathon)

When All Is Said

Through that long heaviness
This body of death
The fascination of a sinner
Crowned with thorns
The frame of sin
Hidden in strange amber
Our long voyages in the past
Over these mountains of the moon
Here all men die – one by one
Stand bare beneath the sinister
Behind this ghost of me
Tripping fantastic, down the barren years
The host of all our dreams
Calm and passionate – in a land alone
The mistress of perhaps and maybe
Lost in the night
The winter and the darkness
The song of an old man
With its weight of yesterday
Faded in the dust
All we have known

(arzathon)

Waking

Waking, yellow and blue
Stains of vomit, that deep sunk death
You – brooding corpse..

I might have died
My betrayal to the world

That filthy education of my youth
A brief torture
This moment of awakening
Lights up my abyss
My heart-breaking misfortune
Ignorance
The original fatherland
I know the system
Revolutions of displacement
Artless rhythms
Burdened with contempt
Lacking the courage
The torment of limpid tears
Outcast..
These roots of suffering
Since reason dawned

(arzathon)

Black Pond

Black pond
European waters
Pride of flags
frail as a may butterfly
in a fire & mud stained sky
Those lovers that crucified
a million dead souls
strangers without age
Purity…
a madness to be confined
monsters, mysteries
a sacred disorder
The hallucination of words
in this paradise of sadness
I loathe poverty

(arzathon)

Two Cents Worth Of Reason

The birth – once a lovely youth
New wisdom – grumbling, quarreling with the worlds disguises
Flight of tyrants – we rebel against chains
Demon corpses of the wicked
Bring an end to threadbare superstition
I see spirits sleep
Weeping angels with delerious instincts
Humanity –
Subtle, silly torture
Spiritual vagrancies
Dishonoured tradesmen
Simple souls
Martys
Crowns
The ardor of plunderers
Christmas on Earth.

(arzathon)

A Leper

A leper
Vagabond
Vague wars
For the body
For the soul
Medicine and philosophy
A vision of numbers
Progress…
Without pagan words,
Silence…
The lies upheld
this pastime of our princes of politics
What a fool am I
My impulses towards perfection
This marvelous charity
A witness to the glory
the reason
A leper
Seated among profane phantasmagoria

(arzathon)

Inspiration

from a nightmare to come…

Purged of all human hope
Rats gnaw at their rifle butts
They’ve smothered us in blood
Laid our children down in mud
Their wars
Breathe the air of crime
The tricks of madmen
a call to arms
The idiots frightful laughter
You will always be hyena,
vulture
Attain death with your appetite
Your selfish capitalist sins

(arzathon)

A Strange Passion

An artistic desire
The distress of poets
A strange passion for beauty
Voyages from a distant land
The secrets of art
All rare and costly
Dark-veined onyx, pale poppies, this holy oil
Smoke curled blue wreaths through the mind
A marvellous mystical light
Misery, wake us in the morning
Cast anchor, haul down the sail
The adders hissed
As death laughed
Out of the slime – beautiful poisonous flowers
To fill the winter of his days
This world’s sorrow
Made misery wiser
Still, chained to my neighbour
Creeps poverty with dark woodland eyes
Then fell upon his knees
Tugged at this coarse rope life
Or some thing of horror
As joy broke from his lips
Sank down into the deep human soul
Lost……….

(arzathon)

Vagrant Days

Old penniless vagrant days
Epicure of my emotions
So much grist of art
Lost in this huge labyrinth
Bound by man made laws
Arbitrary and oppressive
Inspiration for artisans
Inspiration for rebellion
These days of all souls
Melancholy festival of souvenirs
Vibrating with hope and passion
That turning point of life
All your geese are swans
Almost intoxicated
Feeling – unutterable sadness and regret
Sacrificed on the altar of sentiment

(arzathon)

Forest Soul

Guided by the wind
Doubt has twisted my illusion
This preacher of godlessness
Perdition and thunder
Weaving her web
Mirages of imagination
Enslave this traveller
That cursed absinthe – without fear
I inhale the forest’s soul
A vain paradise

(arzathon)

Moments Emotion

A shallow murmur
The desires of the heart
One mad magenta moment
A little disorder in geometry.

(arzathon)

Faded

Nothing in this life
Like the leaving it
Death…A tiny night-light
On the point of expiring
A dull, dreary affair
Dreading and hoping all.

(arzathon)

In Between

A door into the dark
The bright rim of the extreme
Raking at dead fires
The fury of indifference
Like a deacon at prayer
Money mingled with man’s divinity – inflicting pain
The anaesthetic for the sceptics side
In this furnace fire she slept
Where the light wind lives
She hangs between the thoughtless world
Created half to rise, half to fall

(arzathon)

Grey Dull Sleep

Love, drips, gathers, stirs the quicksand
In the snivelling hours, lips of time
Whisper in an artificial wilderness
Pale rain over the soundless dark
Your spittled eyes of isolation
Emptied of poetry
This nightmare, a purpose more obscure
In a rapture of distress
Universal love and hope
That pilgrim soul in you
Your shadows deep
Your deserts of the heart
With a rhythm, a song
Your responsibility, intellectual disgrace
Tingles in the feet
Between each stroke of this grey dull sleep

(arzathon)

Spellbound

The sacred calm, the vale of life
Whispering from the slums of paradise
I was a dog on these streets
Some pensive spirit from dunes of coal
Beyond the forest of the night
Praying to the carcass of a tightened drum
Once true and kind, that solving emptiness
Unreachable – changed from love to lie
A moon – sinking in the holy christian tongue virtue
Praised with sour humble hands, gestures and psalms
From the fields of a loveless land

(arzathon)

Birth

Mother’s fingers
Love’s first gladness
I have crept back to see
The mother that smiles
When darkness wandered
Her strange heart beating
The cruel immortality of love.

(arzathon)

Ape Or Angel

Our homes are the prisons
Our home is the workhouse
Far from the longest pleasures
Rancorous hatred – industry and energy
That great dust heap – a shuttered mansion
Nations and governments
Tragedy as a farce – for blood and plunder
Between education and catastrophe
The terrorist and the policemen
These bloodthirsty guttersnipes
For pleasure and palaces
Evil can always find a home
All us abstract lovers – inorganic to the universe
Humanity – an ingenious machine for being
An ape or an angel
A sentiment artfully assumed
Guinea pigs – in a laboratory of gods
A chain of injustice and oppression
Outlawed – exiled
To the past age of this earth..

(arzathon)

Morning

Poets and visionaires
What tricks of observation
Unveil all the mysteries
Death, birth, the future
Nothingness – squandered

(arzathon)

Pagan

A symphony of hells
Has no power over Pagans
Burdened with contempt
Slaves to infernal stupidity
Damned and dead to the world

(arzathon)

I Am Outcast

Life was a feast
Where all hearts opened
A drunken sleep on the beach
I dried myself in the air of crime
I understand revolt
Those wolves that worry the beast
My head full of roads under natures stars
This strange climate, will burn my lungs
Will tan my skin
Fierce invalids, mixed up in the roots of suffering
My betrayals, my disgust
Which lies should I uphold
The burden, the desert
Any divine image whatsoever
The intractable convict – his flowering labor
The witness of glory, reason
My soul half dead to good
That frivolous taste of freedom

(arzathon)

Endless Allusion

On some imaginative plane
Accidents and limitations
Ethical and aesthetical
These strangely passionate poems
The honey from these lips
A kind of spiritual artistic sense
Giving life and reality
A drawing of the picture
A thing of any value
The truth of the theory
Faith – martyrdom
The artist and his humanity
Delicate minions of pleasure
A trail that leads nowhere
This mystery of the modern
The tragedy of desertion
Of art and of the strange
Dream of the creative
Reality and its ideal form
Immortal children of undying fame
Barren and profitless

(arzathon)

Poet’s Road

I awoke and found the dawn
Desolate and sick
I cried for madder music
Hungry for the lips of desire
Upon my soul
With one word left unspoken
My hunger for a heart became oblivion
With a grace as rare
I had found you
In love’s land the shadows fall
Free as the wind, the poet’s road
Within these solitudes
We were fated

(arzathon)

The Inner Station

Interminable miles of silence
Treacherous and shallow
Below the inner station
Unrecognizable tatters of melancholy
Stripped of its cloak of time
We were wanderers on prehistoric earth
Wild glances and savage moments
The starred darkness
Columnar shapes of intense blackness
Spectral illumination of moonshine
Burning noble thoughts
Like a dying vibration
The pilgrims in purple
Enlarge the mind
Confounded for a moment
Scandal, gallows, and the lunatic asylum
Invade your cage
The flying terror
The inner truth
From the gloom of overshadowed distances
Humanizing, improving
The sunlit face of this land
On the point of dissolving
But still we crawl
To measure our progress
The infinite desolation in the opaque air

(arzathon)

Weakness Or Strength

The white men are landing
Forgetful of all sorrow
Put on clothes
Sleep in Wealth
Work – that premature coffin
The torment of the soul
It is devine love
The reasonable song of angels
Your saviour ship
Farewell nature
The Keys of knowledge
Ladder of common sense
Focus of the world
Farewell….

(arzathon)

They (A Serious Danger To Society

Fallacies whisper to me

They possess truth
They possess justice
They are a thousand times the richest
A thousand times cursed
Lost to all reason
This hell for pride
Possessing every possible landscape
They dreamed crusades, religious wars
Scorchers of life
Invented a language of denial
Eternal punishment
The delights of damnation
The honesty of shame and reprobation
The horror of our times
Provide hostages for those wretches
They are politics – fallacies
Carried off like children

(arzathon)

I Remember Well

I remember well….
I called to the executioner
Laid myself down in the mud
Played sly tricks on madness
That ancient feast
Those inspirations of dreams
I – one of the damned
With all the vices
All the lust
This idolatry of love
The declaration of the Rights of Man..
Betrayal and disgust
Simple brutishness
Flames and smoke in the sky
A billion thunderbolts
We are the children of a world
That sing under torture

(arzathon)

Fierce Buzzing

Cold disdain
Tattoo my body
With fierce buzzing flies
Drunkards in dark streets
A melting dialect of death
Altars of spiders
My soul eternal
Mixed with the sun
Visions of purity
In an immemorial age

(arzathon)

Shabby Happy Prince

The charity children
Touching the water with wings
Flirting with the wind
Are you weeping
Where sorrow is not allowed to enter
Sunk in delicious slumber
Shabby happy prince
Allowed to die here
In this garden of paradise

(arzathon)

Our Ancient Love

The cold return of day
Man’s weary laughter
The sick despair
In their dreams of prayer
The proper darkness of humanity
Come, child, rest
Beside the altar
Behold..
The decaying world
Mirrors out hope and pain
Traces of tears
Bringing man’s end in barrenness
A world
Forgotten, of the sun
Marvelled at our ancient love

(arzathon)

Aphrodite

Flower of my days
Song of my soul
Fierce was the flame
Of love, wine and beauty..

(arzathon)

Awaken

from your perfumed dream-land
Into the oblivion of lost things
To the flames that never die
Burning, Yearning
Dispising the world’s desire.

(arzathon)

Planet Of The Few

We are all revolutionaries
terrorists in the eyes of the blind
The oppressed
the voices of the few
rule the minds of the many
mayan sacrifices
the ballots rigged
votes uncounted
the con of politics
the grifters of democracy
the lords in the manor
on the planet of the few

(arzathon)

The Farce Still Life

I saw a sea of flames
Smoke in the sky
I saw myself
Pity the evil
Priests, professors, masters
Maniacs, fiends, misers
Spared repentance
Untaxed liquor of satan
Grant me celestial calm
As a kingdom of children
Bury the dead in me
The torment of these souls
Striking the hour of pure pain
Like ancient saints
No more need of devotion
Ours is the punishment
Life is the farce
Ripe for perfection
Hallucinations
In a nest of flames

(arzathon)

A Slight Touch

Absinthe and opium
Coffee and cigarettes
A strange theory
A slight touch
So many personalities
The strange and the rare
A parallel instance
A philosophical allegory
The secret attraction
Spirit of beauty
Always alluding
Life and reality
Children of flesh and blood

(arzathon)

Steer Clear Of The Law

With withered fist
An infuriated mob
Facing the firing squad
Weeping pity for the evil
They could not understand

(arzathon)

Wormwood’s Blood

Even in ruin and degradation
The morbidness of the modern
A sinister perversion of pride
Suffers in this external world
A holy alchemy
This intimate sanctuary of beauty
The water of that star
The blood of Wormwood
That obscure night
The valley of humiliation
That curious bewilderment of the mind
With shades of Dorian Gray…
Aestheticism, decadence, bohemianism
Lust and hopelessness, sobriety of habit
The art of being an artist
Even in ruin and degradation

(arzathon)

Liberty, Truth and Justice

Smoother me in blood
In the air of crime
And all the capital sins
Masters – peasants one and all
Lazier than toads
The new nobility – progress
Idle and brutal
Weariness and anger
Scorn and charity
Like a treasure in the forest
Greedily I await freedom
Like Jeanne d’ Arc…
Reason is born to me
The hope of escape
Begging the solace of innocence
Freedom in salvation
For an age of tender hearts

(arzathon)

The Beauty Myth

I am searching for faith
The good and the beautiful
The mechanics of culture
Engineers of the soul
The bullet-headed many
Like their god of creation
Permanent and temporary
A lily in their medieval hand
This revolt against fate
Born of humiliation
This madness of art – fickle, freckled
Is the heart of man
His pillars of smoke
The face of the deep
Our primitive nothing
That grand perhaps
The big issue of our times

(arzathon)

The Darkest Day

I was hoeing
Words of tongue and pen
Dispair, from the far side of absolute
The ceremony of consequences
So unequal, so unfair
I replaced one life with another
The rich man in his mansion
The poor man at his door
Baying for broken glass
The small change of illusions

(arzathon)

Language Of Priorities

A generation away from extinction
You slaves of lonely self-abnegating sacrificial instincts
You slave of slaves
Aiding in the acquisition
Paying for existing
With terror and slaughter
Slaves of the capitalists
Mystic fear of consequences
No sense of faith
No sense of direction
A love of drudgery
Only the paranoid survive
Courted by incapacity
So cryptic, almost meaningless
Government murdered minds and spirit
With ruin upon ruin
As indefensible as infanticide
The blood of the seed
Ignorant and free
A volcano of revolution
In a state of civilization.

(arzathon)

The Curse Of Exile

Hell’s sumptous sweat surrounds my soul
Sacred was this space
Sacred were the sweet strains
The noble pipes
Like those champions of chivalry
I slipped into sleep
Plunged into the deep waters
Your jaws around my waist
A brain so wild
Our serpent sex betrayed
Love pierced its eyes
So much evil survives

(arzathon)

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