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! 🙂

The Nomad

sad-angels

The nomad crossed the failing light,

Into the pregnant moon,

Diana’s long lost daughter

Reunited on the wind,

As twilight breeze bore desert sand

And opalescent bloom,

E’er driving on the nomad

As she arched her wings and grinned.

What force can halt the woman who won’t tread upon the earth?

A fleeting barren wasteland to the nomad’s wanton eye.

Laissez-faire on sea and air,

Why fight the flow of earth’s sole snare?

When verdant field in time will yield

Too wet,

Too hot,

Too dry.

So onward drives the nomad,

Crossing deserts and dark plains,

Swooping into valleys,

Cresting ridge by crescent light,

Chasing after shadows in a sea of pitch black stains,

Coalescing round her head to mar her moonlit flight.

But darkest piracy of thought

Won’t shy her from her course,

Horizon in her sights,

Promise spurring in her side,

Gliding like an angel

Driven by demonic force.

Always fleeing failing light

And truths no night could hide.