Bastion

the-last-human-on-earth

Set in stone, bronze, iron and gold,

The last legacy of man and God,

Bears witness to his dynasty’s demise.

Arms upheld denying chaos’ rise,

Crook laid down, with none to terrorise.

The epitome and essence of the human condition,

As slowly solitude aids orders expedition,

And humanity’s witness becomes history’s patrician.

Survival, endurance, and beastial roar,

Self styled God is made man once more.

But survival’s ward wears through self-contemplation,

External durance turns to internal altercation.

The garden of earthly delights is not dead,

While sap’s sickly sweet smell swims free through the head,

Flowing forth from the corpses now charged in his stead.

And in narcissistic utopia,

A unique cornucopia

Of insanities beset history’s end.

A life taken corrupts life’s rise and fall.

A punishment paid with no heed at all.


If you guys enjoyed this poem I wrote some time ago (which, incidentally, is about the last human), then be sure to check out the article I just wrote for Warhols Children, ‘The S.S. Pornocopia and Other Erotic Tales‘. It’s been a while since I’ve written an article for them, this one is about the ingrained role of pornography in modern culture. Enjoy! 🙂

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Martyrs and Masochists

blood-knifeWhat currency is worth more than human blood?

Horded by misers,

fearing red river’s flood.

Who won’t risk a spill

in spite of blood’s call;

Ever beating twin drums

of love and lust’s thrall.

Where passions price

comes in carnage and gore,

Martyrs and masochists will always pay more.

Bloodletting release after eons of pain,

Barters bliss

and the thought

that it ought not

be in vain.

But shaving life’s mane

tempers power in paw,

As angels and thorns

raise a differing roar,

And spent blood is in circulation once more.