My Compendium of Exotic Poetic Techniques!
Ever wondered what conscious beings in parallel universes think about?
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how close are we to the end? how long until the doors open? when will the sky fall?
lamentations:
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things told to me by the conscience
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even if they aren’t, they’ll be said one day
“Lord, where have you gone? The dragon has fallen, and we have no tears to drown it.”
“The trees have left… How, then, can we hear the crying of birds?”
“I need to stop sky-watching. Sunsets look as if the coffin’s lid is closing!”
“How?” [the seraph reports hearing various screams and assorted exhortations for their extension of life]
From his chair and to the corner, /// He kneels, facing the wall, his hands together, /// Something like prayer. /// His incoherent mumbling sent the gargoyle, next to me, into a fit, /// Who laments over mushy peas and rotten lilacs. /// The woman opposite me sits in still silence, /// Staring at me like a calm lake. As would an owl, /// Patiently waiting for the mouse to finish its crème brulee.
Thrown into the abyss of fire, I felt not my sins melt but merely displaced by the love of God. Gone are the thoughts of murder; the fate of drowning; and the long nights of peering into the ceiling, trying to pierce into the cosmos. Through teary eyes met by the hard air, flying islands flew past me.
Have you already forgotten your neuro-weapon?
mine is the piercing blade of my chimaera’s bowing of the last flesh-string between my nail and lunula.
truly, don’t bring that rose thorn chevalier again.
what does God gain from being evil?
do you even care that what you believe may be false?
does it even matter?
does it even matter?
does it even matter?
They were a white body all wrongly knotted and tied to others that flapped in thin tongues. quite peculiar sentiments|quite peculiar sentiments|quite peculiar sentiments
There are saints flying, watching over us in Heaven, who had killed themselves.
Did you check the Palace of Smoke and Mirrors?
There’s cyanide in our croissants!
Why are you in my house? Who the hell are you? Who let you in?
Satan must be right-pissed to know that God chose him to be Satan.
Caseless phones litter the streets, but the destitute fear their call. Who calls?
Absolutely Breaking News for the Inhabitants of This World
(as if you need any more bad news during your sorry life)
The honey and locusts have repelled each other! Never to touch. One bitter, and the other’s legs slice the throat and sever the uvula!
I’ve seen things! A torch dying in a lively town; a bloody arena with no echoes; a bright hallway with no other legs… Where are we really?
Find the day residues? Absurd… Absurd! I’m on severe meds that prevent exactly that. Why should I? So the nether-moi could laugh at me?
“I’ve… destroyed… so many lives.”
Don’t even think about including your life in that statement. You were gone before you even pulled that trigger.
“What the hell happened to the 'joycall anons’?”
Well, to keep a long story short, many of the lips refused to make calls due to a lack of silk-shrouded ottomans. The service is down indefinitely.
“Why was the tour for the nudist hamlet cancelled?”
We were unable to get the necessary permits and government petitions to proceed with the tour. Sorry, no refunds.