a college freshman talks to his final exam paper

whatever

happened
to the concept
of multiple choice?

a girl who grew up in the smokey mountains talks to her boyfriend who suffers halitosis

your breath
reminds me
of my childhood...

the mingaw

paminawa ang gibati sa akuang kasingkasing, GIMINGAW NA KO NIMO… kada gabii, wala nay lain musulod sa utok nako panay nalang mga mata nimo, unsa kalami puhon mutanaw ka sa akua; baba nimo, unsa kalami puhon mungisi ka tungod sa akua; mga kamot nimo, unsa kalami puhon magunitan nako sila… usahay man sad, lain sad maisip nako… kanang mga kanta nako, apan panay na sila LAB songs, ambot ngano… kantahon nako, kaw nasad musulod sa utok nako… usahay sad, musulat ko, apan IKAW nasad ang sabjek matter sa masulat nako… ambot gani nganu naingani ang utok nako… wara ba ko gareklamo? dili man… ganahan gani ko kay naa jud ka sa utok nako… dili jud mawala… maayo nalang…
pero, gimingaw na jud ko nimo… pataka ra kog binisaya diri, kabalo ko daghan kog grammatical errors dira… bahala na, di bitaw sad ka hawod kaau magbinisaya… heehe… gimingaw na jud ko nimo…

the deciding

live and let her die...

your muscles were made
to bury her...

Module II.

[Receiving Transmission]

Receiving transmission…

/*The SAIKOW_08 unit receives transmission from the Asthenia Corporation’s telecommunications tower. The signal being conducted switches the unit’s mind ON. The following excerpt is a poem that describes how the unit receives the initial transmissions from the environment and how it ATTEMPTS to recollect its disrupted dream.*/

lines separate the scene:
white and black and all they greys between.
flowing currents from left to right,
the sound of a river flowing beneath glass.

she was a girl,
that much, i can recall.
nothing else, aside from that fact,
is coagulated in my waking eyes…

from the lines, the ceiling comes to form
upon the fleeting image of the girl.
from her hair come the shadows of the room.
from her skin, the peeling paint.

unlike an addiction
that’s more real when it’s not there.
just when i was focusing my sight
lines separated the scene…

Module IV.

[Post-defecation Reflex]

Redialling…

Unit found…

Establishing connection…

Verifying username and password…

Connection established…

*a scene emerges from the monitor, everything is moving. a door is nearing*

/*The unit proceeds to the washroom. The CPU reminds the unit that a meeting is about to begin in 30 minutes. The unit quickens its movements, not minding the involuntary churning of its digestive system. The unit opens the door, gets in the other side, closes, and locks it. It undresses, sits on the septic bowl, and empties itself while the “Revisioning” program runs in its CPU.*/

post defecation micturition reflex

A stream
to wash away
the stain
on porcelain...

how convenient...

Module V.

[Auto-defragmentation]

/*The unit wipes the external opening of its rectum, flushes the bowl, and proceeds to the shower area. It turns on the shower and a mantra automatically plays in its CPU.*/

Opening .wav folder…

Connecting to media…

Playing Auto-defragmentation.wav…

Showering results in a few phases,
in which the skin and also the hair are wet with water,
then the cleansing products are applied,
allowed to work,
and subsequently rinsed out.

If necessary,
a new soaping and rinsing is performed.

/*taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shower*/

Module IX.

[Returning transmission]

/*The unit travels back to its shelter after 5 hours of conversing with the other unit. It notices that the current monetary balance it possesses is inadequate for a fare. SAIKOW_80 decides to walk.*/

Returning transmission…

Walking…
Walking…
Walking…
The world is walking towards my direction,
lights come and go…

Walking…
Walking…
Walking…
My feet race each other, only to tire each other,
only to tire me…

Module XI.

[Establishing New Connection]

/*The SAIKOW_80 unit decides to lie down in its bed. It enters its shelter and activates the security mechanisms. It proceeds to its quarters and laid itself down. For a moment it is silent.*/

Receiving feed from unit umber 65886…

Establishing new connection…

Receiving data…

Source,

How does it feel to hear constant whispers
of forgiveness,
of need,
of thanks,
of praise?

When was the last time
someone talked to you?

I’d hate to be you…

Module XII.

[Automatic shut-down…]

/*The Asthenia Corporation’s telecommunications tower disconnects the transmission to SAIKOW_08 unit. The lack of signal being conducted switches the unit’s mind OFF. The following excerpt is a poem that describes what the unit analyzes before the final transmissions from the environment occur.*/

ten thousand nails
can’t be detected by my eyes,
but their weight pulls beneath my skin...

locking me to the earth
like a hand that holds me,
cradles me...

the bedsheets are whispering her name…

my sight fades to black…

a small spot is in the middle of everything…

…end of transmission…

the autoneurophagism

mirrors whisper verses-

that paint the canvesses that are blank-

of invisible blades

that penetrate my spine.

moving lips

inaudible dialogues

the bored winds speak

of unseen portraits

unread letters

unheard songs

whispers beneath the moonlight

miles away from me

the mirror paints a wicked picture

but te picture is in canvass…

taken away from reality…

the shadowing

[an excerpt from the iokan chapters]

if only you could feel my chest, being crushed by unseen waves

at dawn, how much i try to look back at a dream and search for you in it

but dreams are never loyal, when you try to focus on them,

they fade away…

at night, when im all alone and i tink of the things that i failed to do

to make you smile

the things i did

to make you lose a smile

be they for stupid reasons that i only realize hours after…

and ill change

if it is for the better…

i cant seem to understand you

and whats more is that

i cant seem to understand why i feel this way for you

i just do

i like many girls, but after a few weeks, they look so ordinary

no matter their smile, their eyes, their talents, their kindness

all become dissolved and placed in a place between my head and my heart

you seem to have jumped inside this so called heart and anchored yourself

firmly

i cant even let you go…

the copulation

my death in the eye of a suicide - blood spilt -
for an intercourse with your fallen god.
raging beacons flare for fate - surrendered -
for a sundered cunt-fingering whore…

time can mend a heart, but it cant sew back together
two hearts that be torn apart
distance serves as the tip of the iceberg
the frozen tears of a concubine!!!

the paranoid

it comes when im all alone at the corner of my room,

it silences the hum of the CPU and the hush of the air-conditioner.

it’s a steady whisper, chanting things that i dont want to hear.

things with no clear basis - hypotheses.

it quickens the beating of my heart ’til it hurts my chest,

my stomach feels empty but i want to vomit,

take a piss, take a crap all at once,

my skin feels a sweat drip at my cheek,

i wipe it, but the back of my hand doesnt feel anything wet,

my sight is dimming -

i cant trust anybody.

the wetting

i just want to come

my brain out

and leave a white pool

of consciousness

beneath the

shimmering stars

between the

flaccid air

and the numb

concrete

the celestine

[an excerpt from the celene chapters]

i call upon the horned one, baphomet
speak to me of riddles of this divine heart
of how thine milk raised the great god zeus
and how his men fought to tear you apart

in darkness’ embrace, in lakes of bitter enchantment
is this mine genesis to the shadow lands enticement?

i invoke thine arrows, bitter cupid
did their tips intoxicate this heart
did they leave this stench so putrid
did they see that we were to part

inside this life’s madness, inside this rotting heart
where is my goddess, pleasuring thineself, worlds apart

gods, lend me the tongue you raped from me
and give me back the reason for my sins
her beguiling stare, alone seduces me
hear me scream the name of my celestine!!!

in a bloodbathe coffin tub, i lie staring blankly
at cobwebs of yesterday, sewn by spiders aplenty

my veins cry out their crimson tears
and medusa knows what stoned hearts hold
my celene, you brought back my fears
and these songs i sing til i grow old

baby girl, are you still awake?
the stakes are burning for the seasoned witch
baby girl, you know im awake
watching and praying for another easy b*tch

the notes from a long forgotten piece
resound in every drop of tear
to the mediteranean seas
the voice of celene i hear

curse this world and its divine comedy
of rippling inertia, my skin to her vulva
the rose blooms blackened in this tragedy
of heaving together the angel’s aroma

the night grew wild with revelation
tauren gods m*sturbating the zodiac
planets aligned and blocked constellations
pisces dances ontop of a silver-back

roses were lain, thier fragrace filled thine room
aphrodite, salivating at the sound of our moans
drowning pleasure, sinking in her bosom
for mine satyric desires, and thine nymphet groans

did the fates know that those be our requiem
the end of a midsummers fantasy
my heaving left you c*mming to the heavens
and so ends our filthy story…

the [re]collection

“i miss you”
words bleed off his tongue
as he witnesses memories passing by…

his friends
are the sweetest of his past
and unseen tears overflow…

names flood in
unspoken but never forgotten
the solemn lyrics of his life…

his heart
beating in the rhythm of his soul
a song, divinity, friendship…

treasures
they will forever remain within
locked in a vault of security…

no hands
not even those of the wind
can ever take them away…

a silent tear falls
“i miss you”
another drop of emotion…

the asthenia

[an excerpt from the drean chapters]

it crashes down, all around…
questioning crystal clear…
broken glass, mirrored fate…
questioning, blurred by fear…

shall the martyr rise
never, fated to die
shall i hold on
let go?

future, an isle in the horizon
shall waves bring me there
or shall i swim?
fear paralyzes me…

for what good is a man
when he gains the whole world
and loses
his soul?

i wont let her slip away
i wont let my words be bastardized…
my heart shall rise
my music shall transcend…

we never choose friendship
its the other way around…
we choose opportunities
not the other way around…

we choose our fate
not the other way around…
we never choose love
we strive for it…

dear…
dear…
dear……

i know that this world makes no space for compensation…
it’s all about the self..

the wailing

petty words from the tongue of myn
seep though the walls of stone, earth, mud
keeping the whispers, the mute eavesdropper
listens without hearing the silent reverie

as dew trickles from each crease
kept in the bosom of bitter secrecy
silver drops of an untold story
the dream of a star through the eye of a brick

the sands of time cover the fissures
and lay there unseen to the cosmic titans
yet the hands of the north wind sweep
the sands fly off to the heavens

left naked, cold, and deeper than before
crevices moan along the songs of midnight
silent verses of an untold story
the dream of a star through the eye of a brick

and there written, in the blood of a child,
“it is as it is, as child is a child.
sacrifice is sacrifice, as yesterday is today.”
it clots for tommorow, through the eyes of today.

the mirror

[an excerpt from the celene chapters]

halfway across the page of my own words,
i read those that i have written,
so familiar when they dripped from my tongue
yet, so foreign to my eyes

i flip a page back, two, three…
im not yet finished with the chapter
i ended a season ago,
im still within it’s pages.

i drowned myself within myself
one’s greatest lie is one’s self
i believed it to be true
so true that it became somewhat like it

but a child will forever be a child
as a sacrifice will forever be one
the past will never be today
and today will never be tomorrow.

the mirror lies
as i realize that i lie to myself
break it, break it…
let me bleed to feel…

the disillusion pt.2

[an excerpt from the celene chapters]

cupid, thine lips hath deceived what thine arrows wish
perceived as mere injections to a soul long forgot.
rape, the angels shalt burn within the regions of mine mind
and in mine hands, their severed heads rot.
i yearn to hold her, to feel her, to make her cum
in mine finger will her nectar flow and i shalt drink it.
in mine lips shall her moans echo with pleasure unimagined
speaketh be mine mind, and lest you not forget…

i lay her down in crimson petals of rose and blood
and taste her lips of citrus oranges
my tongue shall roam the regions of her lips
and bathe in shores of pure bliss
her hair flows down on her alabaster skin
and i brush it off to gaze into her eyes -closed.
feeling her curves from her shoulders to her back
lower and lower my hands shall travel into stygian
kissing the shadows cast into her nape
tasting her soft, white throat.
her laces shall fall down and drop to the earth
and the northern wind be her dress
i shall embrace her and offer
the warmth of a midsummer
fingers shall play with the curiosity of a child
playing in the feiry rings of lust
and in the gardens shall flow ever abundantly
the waters of eternal youth
sweetest be the milk of a forbidden fruit
and sourest be its after taste
a play of sensations an a script of tongue
that ripples in inertia
let the stars burn brighter with her every moan
let the moon shine sweeterwith her every breath
she arches and reaches for God
but i bind her to the reaches of reality
in that cosmic moment, a grain of sand in the desert of time
the holy intercourse of heaven and earth has been
in that cosmic moment, a grain of sand in the desert of time
she loved me… she loved me…

the disillusion pt.1

[an excerpt from the celene chapters]

he stared at the pictures
as if it were the only things sustaining him,
binding him to life itself,
as the cold wind pressed on his skin.
her face has always been
in the center of his memory,
yet seeing the photographs
still burn his chest into an autumn nights feeling.
he gazed in her eyes
-pixelated, indifferent-
as were her words in the screen
when she opened up herself
as cold tears trickled down his cheeks.
her smile was pleasing,
much to the utter content of every boy,
filling him to the brink of his own dissolution
-his own winter.
disillusioned?
he wishes to be.
the truth has been lain in front of him
-putrid, evident-
love does not exist.

the guilty

porcelain figurine lays on the floor,
crimson cracks appear on her face,
perfect, otherwise...

silent screams of a broken mind
and a soul that pierces with the burning
of a thousand evils

this body cant be trusted
this body can never be trusted

as the scent of her shedding skin
merges with the wind
i lock the door

not tonight, i pray
not tonight…

as she whispers things done
and screams with the chorus of those
left undone

-this fucking buzz in my head-

not tonight, i pray
NOT TONIGHT!

the clock speaks
…
three a.m.

the wishing

girl and boy,
both in love,
or so thought boy...
but, she had enough…

she told boy, “oh, boy, im tired...
i need to find another mind,
another one that wouldnt tire
my need for someone to admire...
you’ve given me the best you could
and i appreciate it with whole heart and soul...
but, you should have known that im the kind
of girl who would easily get tired...”

and so, she left...
and so, he cried
and walked and walked
without a care,
until he saw a shining lamp,
like the one in that little disney crap...

blinded by the tears so warm
and a dream that she would return,
he rubbed and rubbed as tears fell down
like the falling leaves when summer ends...

poof!
to his surprise, a genie came.
“why that face? you called me here!”
“im sorry, sir...
i did not know
that a genie would really appear!”
“as you can see, im as real as you,
you know the drill: 3 wishes from you…”

“uhm, ok… here’s how they go,
my first would be for my soul…
when i die, please make this true,
that my soul, unseen, be with hers, too…

“my second one is for anyone
who knows my face, who knows my name...
may he or she forget me when
i finally get to leave this place...

and in his final wish, the genie asks,
“who the hell rubbed me out?
and what the hell’s this body here?
lying beside my shiny lamp!?”

the danse

[an excerpt from the iokan chapters]

within the reaches of what flickers between blue, black, and indigo
lost between the twenty-second and the thirtieth of the eleventh step
lies a mutable daughter - honest, generous, and gifted with vision…

laying dormant between black soil, kept secret by the sands
is the son of the seventeenth sun and the fifth moon
fixed - loyal, stable, patient, and able to endure…

both of different origins, both of different views
cross each other in the backdrops of strings and chords,
of melodies and harmonies, of rhythm and rhyme

one caught the others eye, and forced him to dream…

but the fates have no blood pacts as to how this could be
tauren and hunter lost in the forest
are sure to drown where mortal hearts go blind…

but the son was born of the proud sun
and his weakness shall be his strength
tilt the zodiac to reflect and deflect

he is slave to no one - to fates, or gods, or flames of hell
compatibility and incompatibility have no say on this
one does not rape a dream from a tauren, specially if it is one of a kind…

the smoke

i can’t imagine how to finish a day without you,

sipping you from the bitter filter:
your white air jumps out from both the yellow tip
and the red spot at the end of the stick...

my index and middle fingers touch my chapping lips
as i hear the cackling of the fiery tip -
only audible at those moments
when i cant help but light up a stick...

inhaling, missing the way you glide down to my lungs:
caressing the walls of my throat,
taking its shape,
suffocating me for one warm moment,
from the inside,
filling up my lungs...

and when i can no longer inhale:
the cold, damp breeze
-be it at dawn,
in the middle of the day,
at night-
tinges the tip of my tongue
and i exhale you...

most of the time,
id take you in again
when you escape my mouth:
up my nose,
i can smell my tainted chest,
my burning throat,
my rotting gums,
my blackening teeth...

that one moment -
taking you in,
breathing you out -
you reach into my chest;
yet, you and i know you reach more places...

when i feel the filter burning,
when i throw it away:
my brain melts
and it drips from my ears and eyes...

then, you fill up the cavity,
pressing what little is left of my brain
to the walls inside my skull...

oh, youre such a sweet disease that takes my thoughts away from him and her...
its such a shame that im giving you up for the same reason i started using you again…

the inquisition

i need to

let loose:
choke a priest;
hit a nun;
run around
and writhe
the collars
of those
god damned socialites...

think you’re better?
really now?
holy dog,
zealous shit?
fuck
the morals
that you feed
to your herding sheep...

“herd is here
ready, sir
stakes are burning
hot as hell...”
“yeah,
this is the way
you do the fucking
power struggle...”

church and state
separate?
“father, we cant have this...”
“i know what we must do,
we must burn our brethren down!”

burn them down...

see the steps
that they do?
find the poor
and throw the stick,
run around
screaming this,
“THESE ARE HERETICS!”

“heretics?
heretics?
what was it i did?
i was just herding cattle
when the women disappeared!”

“LIAR!
LIAR!
you served them to your god,
a black horned figure named
lu
ci
fer!”

“what is this you’re speaking of?
implying to my cow?
her name’s jennifer,
just a heffer,
father!”

“here’s a bag of silver
and i guarantee your life,
just tell the folks around me
the you serve the foulest god!”

“tis true,
tis true,
i killed all the women
no mercy did i slaughter them,
the next be your children!”

“you have heard
what he said,
and we know what we should do
we must burn our brethren down!”

burn them down...

see the steps
that they do?
find the poor
and throw the stick,
run around
screaming this,
“THESE ARE HERETICS!”

confidence boosted to accord
strawmen burn
they know they cant afford their fall

“herd is here
ready, sir
stakes are burning
hot as hell...”
“yeah,
this is the way
you do the fucking
power struggle...”

power struggle...
burn them down...

the sign

a young boy is smoking
underneath a billboard
with an image of burnt lungs…

he is looking at a couple
across the street...

a police officer approaches him and asks if he sees the sign,
he looks at the officer and says:

i see, i dont mind…

the [com]promise

beneath the stars,
amid the cold breeze,
and the constant stare of yellow street lamps...

your scent
makes my eyes want to shut out from the world
and my body longing to lie beside yours...

you wrap your arms around me,
and i can’t get out,
but then again,
why would I want to?

you whisper words
to make me happy -
happier than any man
has ever made me...

you kiss my nape;
your lips -
warm,
soft,
wet -
glide to my ears
where you tell me,
“i promise…”

then, you lead me
inside your car,
parked amidst the shadows
of old acacia trees...

you hold me
close
and the last thing I want
is for you to let go...

you undress me
as you undress yourself;
you kiss my lips
and i kiss back...

you enter me
and tears flow out of my eyes...

you promised to make me happy,
why do I feel so much pain?

the dusk

[an excerpt from the celene chapters]

on seeing the girl that once gave her heart
to him, with her wishes to be not torn apart
from him - the lover who forever remains true
to her, a goddess in deep shades of blue…

on seeing the girl who still holds his heart
in strings of thoughts and in surrenders part
of sweet dreams that forever remain true
forever to his goddess in deepest shades of blue…

azure colors bleed off the sky
as her colors bleed off his eye
azure colors bleed off…
deep colors bleed…

she turned a blind eye…

the incubus

[an excerpt from the celene chapters]

*to be edited*

oh, sweet artemis, dost thou wish to press thy lips
upon mine which long hungered for thine enchanting kiss?
mine eyes have been long awake to the truth long left behind -
mine goddess is lost the forest where mortal heart go blind…

i have offered sweet crimson in thine pulpit for moons;
red are mine rivers and silted my shores,
wishing sweet luna for sweet, fragrant whores;
her sweetness is but a tear, to the devil she swoons
water, mine eyes, and melted mine lids
sewn shut for an eon, snow-capped, well-hid

oh, black sukkubi, dost thou wish to take my soul
in thine dark sepulcher where libidos lose control
serpentine madness, kiss mine wounds and sip mine seeds
for this filthy little desire is her dirty little deed…

i stand empty-hearted awaiting sweet luna
nostalgic her eyes, seductive her lips
i offer this moment to her naked eclipse
i lie in distant shores for bitter asthenia
id take over her body and ransack every inch
leaving nothing innocent, leaving a sick perverted stitch

ah, zeus, give me the power to fly to her now
and watch her heave between sheets as she plays with her fingers
ill watch in nocturna, patient as the dead
and when timing is mine, slip to her bed and there, linger

for if my fingers cant own her, they can writhe the hilt
of the knife as i raise it to heaven, and her throat it shall slit
and the phantoms bare witness to this murderous man
“if i cant have you, no one ever fucking can…”

i look down at mine goddess, bloodied yet beautiful
venus would turn jealous if she saw this mural of mine love
no joy and no sadness, murderous yet faithful
im forever loyal, no concubines hidden underneath these wings of the dove

did the winds blow her hair, let every strand dance?
to the beats of sweet longing, to lust’s orgasmic trance?
did she look for another, in those distant unseen shores?
for another finger to be lead inside the lips of the whore?

if so, sweet cupid, shall i look for another mouth
to bring me oral pleasures, and kiss my rot away?
shall i search for a far sweeter caress, a gentler touch
to hold me in nights of the abyss, to never let me slip away?

no, i shall never c*m for any other girl
but for her face, she can milk mine soul dry
no, nothing else matters to me in this world
none but her face, to no one else shall i cry

oh, if i could touch her cheeks as i stare at her eyes
deceitful and devious, hold nothing but lies
if i could lick her lips and hear her moan
id slip medusa's snake in her cunt and watch her turn to stone…

im afraid…
so afraid…
and i kiss…
her forehead, goodbye…

til our eyes meet again in a haunted nights dream
i shall taste her again and drink her nectar
but for now, she sleeps well in death’s embrace
as i search for another constellation, another star…

the misleading

morality blindfolded the bastards in the bench,
wearing a gown lacking the shades of grey...

the plea

if i could melt every fiber in me,

i’d mold it into his own…

the sociobiology

the queen ant
comes
out of her nest
and mingles
with the worker ants...

she is looking for a suitable mate,
one with strong
wings
to carry her
to the skies...

she finds him...

he sends her to the clouds,
and there, they mate...

at the height of climax,
the queen
gains her wings
as the worker ant
sheds off his...

the queen lands safely
on the ground
and goes directly
back to her nest...

no one sees the worker ant...

the catalyst

i’m trapped inside a room of mirrors:
six of them are surrounding me...

i guess
i’ll be staying here for a while,

waiting…

i take out
a cigarette
and the reflections
follow...

i place the filter
between my lips
and light
the edge
with a match...

i sip the white air
out of the stick
and take
a deep
breath -
bitter air sends a flame down my throat...

and we all
exhale
smoke...

so much smoke
from so many images
all coming from
one matchstick...

the slowness

a naked man is thrown into a well:
his mouth is covered with duct tape;
both his hands are bound by nylon strings;
both his feet, by motorcycle chains,
covered with cement...

total weight: half a ton...

the fall sends his legs,
torso,
and head to the center stage:
muscles stretch like rubber bands,
refusing to snap;
sinews unwind
as bones hold firm...

a massive wave
from his stomach
pushes its way
to the walls of his head,
trying to spurt out of his eyes...

a faint splash echoes
between the walls of the well...

the water, running cold as ice, caresses his skin...

the bitter taste of his last cigarette is trying to escape his mouth...

his screams are muffled by the tape
and the static hush of the dark water...

he looks above as the rays of white light
dwindle
into one
faint
spot...

now, between the complete darkness
he waits...

the fulcrum

can i just
rape her
when she’s not looking?

gather all the strands of her hair
and just use the bundle to drag her closer to me?

clench her arms
until it burns a mark?

tear her cocoon apart
and see what she hides:
her insecurities,
behind her seemingly divine stare?

strike below her bosom?

grab her by the throat,
slam her to the wall
and watch as she falls to her knees?

can i?

and just ask her:

where’s your smile now?

finally,
no pretentions.

pull her feet
and turn her around?

…a taste of what you’ve done to me!?

hear screams of pain
between her inaudible tears
of release...

blood,
shit,
and come
all over the floor…

and throw her away...

can i?

can i say
finally, we’re even!