Writing 0008

From nagging to stabbing
From craning to crushing
Walking to running
Seeing to touching
Rocking to shouting
Metal to steel
Knock on the wheel.

Touch push
Hands in the grinder
Push flush
Run through by the lance.
Dance, come with the lace

Feel the pain
You have nothing
Know thyself
Thy useless domains
Weakness will bring thee ruin
Don’t focus on your weakness, everyone else is doing that for you. Vaynerchuk.
You’re bursting
You’re dying

Dying for flying
Feeding the needing for bleeding. Mustaine.
Put your fears
On your back.
Don’t look at them
Lest they attack
And walk on the needles
Anxiety pushes
Depression asks for more
Anxiety pushes
Push you forward.

Daniel Triumph.

GrindStorm

The darker than black
Shake, giving myself
A heart attack
Accidentally oh and passively I
Shed her, kill all that I love and
Oh how remote, alone, from here I
Stand not a chance oh lone.

Lovely, come back

The greater they are the
Darker the fall my
Scaffolding is just
As deep as it’s tall.

It’s the weak, they bother my kitten,
And it’s me, rarely get let in oh
Call out to me, oh, for you I would bloody my knuckles
“Just tell them your man knows how to kill and get away with it”
I jest of course, I value all lives but
if they make yours worse I will
rain down around you surround you
Don’t come near her unless you want me to rain down
“Like a good old fashioned beating within… Inches of your life.”
Now I’m “alone and left abandoned,
With the sentence I’ve been handed.”
Oh lady, my angel, oh—

Take a step back, boy, don’t worry so much.
Haha, that’s what I’m built for, I worry my love.
And then I take action, on the razor’s edge.
Don’t worry, don’t worry oh

Maybe I should. I do not have nightmares,
Instead I am caught. And sleeping awake love,
My trust
Withers
I’m fading
Awaking
Find me
I’ll… Never leave unless
You break me, break thoughts on you
And I’m shaking and anxious and paining
And blood flows forth
I am depressed, no not ’cause of you, no it’s just that time…
Didn’t I tell you? October would come?

She’s
Grinding away my dead flesh
Bringing me closer to life,
Love, oh I’ll do the same.
Oh my. Oh my. Make me
Yours forever.
Just ask or imply
And I will try
To figure it out.

Further reading:
https://youtu.be/nldfvlOmXWE
https://youtu.be/sONL6QUMR9E

Daniel Triumph.

Modern Art

By Satan, the most beautiful angel.

I see the weakness in society, and I laugh and I circle
And every year I take a step closer and closer
And I will ruin your world, no, and you’ll do it for me.
And you will ruin your world, and Rome fell to androgyny.
And I will ruin your world, homophobic, and anti-contraceptive
And I will scream and I’ll shout and you will hate and denounce.

The barbarians circle your lands HA HA HA, the conservatives, the men.
The barbarians circle your lands, and they will be mine.

And we will cut your power grids, and your families will rot
Where is the father? He’s run off somewhere.
Marriage is dead.
Where is the mother? She’s ashamed, on her sixth man.
Parenthood dead.
And the young man, your son? Oh he’s in jail!
Children lost.
And the young lady? Your daughter? She’s ashamed and ugly!
Victimhood culture.

I will bring the ruin, and I won’t even touch you.
You’re already killing yourselves, feel free though,
Have your gay babies, or children when your career is settled!
Oh, menopause, and married people work harder.
Shoot yourself in the foot and wonder what’s wrong there.
And women are angry, the system has failed. Baby rabies, and where is my child!

And so, one, two generations, who will be left?
It’s a shame that the satanic atheists will lose out to the
Open-to-life Catholics, but
Nothing like a zealot to spread fear and hate (right ISIS?)
You will die? No, but your children will.
You’re killing yourselves by denying them, still!

And you will ignore me, while LGBT+ children never come into existence.
And I will laugh at your hypocrisy, as you kill unborn babies
because you’re too weak.

I woo you with sex and love and passion,
What did they used to call it before? Lust, Greed, Pride?
Yes, ignore my from your pride. Hide behind your greed. And pretend
That Lust and Love are NOT the same thing (but they are.)

I kill half of all marriages. You kill the rest!
The only thing that kills a relationship faster than worthless sex
Is the love you fall into instead of your partier.
Of course you split up! You married him for his love, and love is not eternal!
But no, how could you even marry someone for who they are?
Just their love, their looks, their money; it’s all the same to me and you.

Satan works in mysterious ways. Intimacy is dead.
Have not children, live the “glorious” single life, or childless marriage.
Bear not thy cross, and then wonder why I nail you to it.

And use it to stab your society in the beating hearts of its never-born children.

Hatred and logic are a magical combination, no?

You can check out my previous inflammatory political piece here: We are the Horseman

Daniel Triumph.

Sing me a Lovely Lovers’ Song!

Oh love my love you are peace
Oh love my love I want your peace

I’ll keep you safe!
I’m on my knees.
You see oh lovely love o’ love my love oh can’t you see?
I have to, want to build a home for you and me!

You are my joy
Must keep you safe (yusshhhh :3)
You are my peace
In peace you’ll stay!

But love I must learn!
Oh me oh my love!

Yes lovely, learn!
Fly up like a dove!

And how, when I am safe,
Can I do such a thing?

Where is the ground not firm,
that we build up schools and homes?
Where when the law is stone,
do we build up universities and cities?

The bandits assault the schools.
And learn with sword at throat you won’t!

Your freedom’s yours, oh me oh my love!
Oh! Oh! Can’t you see?
Your freedom is yours, and safe you will be!
Ah! Ah! Oh I can see!

Oh me
oh safe!
Oh me
your face!
Come here let me grab you
Oh come and I’ll squeeze you
I come, oh pleaze take me :3
I’m here, oh please touch me!

Oh how can I ever deserve such a peace, oh my me, oh now?
Why should ever you work oh so hard and for me, oh am I worth(y)?
Oh and I am useless, do nothing, I am little and cute!

I and lo, I want nothing
And lo you are nothing, oh no no no no

Wha—

Not something you are, oh, ’cause someONE you are!
My Lady’s no object! To that I object.
And all I want from you is one thing, oh me oh my love
Yes?
And all I want is this thing, my lovely my bug
What!
And that thing is this, oh it’s this oh right here
You’re poking my nose, oh, what is it my dear?
The condition of intimacy is simply, my lovely, oh
All you must do for me is to exist oh me oh my love!

And!
Hmm?
And?
Oh! And be with me and only me oh my love
oh my love
And be oh with me, oh Lady
Be mine!
Ah!
Ah?
Yes?

Oh take me my love!
Oh yes, my lady!
Oh conquer me, my husband.
Oh marry me, my wife.




All together now;
I am yours,
till death do we part.
And forever we’re ours,
And you feel my heart.
Two half souls finally become one
And peace in the home, and peace under sun.

And
Until then I build a house
And Until then I’ll grow and love
And now you make me not alive
No?
No, I am always alive, not needy, my no!
No?
No! You make me alive-er my love
oh love me my love!
Oh love me oh love me oh love me my love!

Obviously drawing inspiration from the Song of Songs, this is something of an engagement song. According to the Jewish tradition, if you so much as fornicate you are betrothed. How this would change the world if it was law! I wonder how many little children would have fathers…

Alas! This is a follow-up poem to “Sing me a song; so that I may Dance!

Tell me a story that you cherish. (v2, standalone)

(v1 of this piece was in the short anthology, Passive Progressions.)

This was written in September, when my life was more stable because she was not talking to me. Now, it’s a little different. Horray, for Chaos has returned to me once again!

A Romantic: A person with beliefs or attitudes of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life. ‘This is a beautiful record for hopeless romantics and dreamers – don’t let the cynics tell you otherwise.’ Essentially a reverse cynic or an idealist who’s willing to prove the world wrong in order to achieve his or her dreams.

This summer, my romantic self, the self that stayed up late on school nights watching lovely anime, and read ironic fantasies and speculative science fiction, was reawakened by someone. He is raw and unfocused, passionate and transcendental.

We talked a lot, nearly every night by message. The more I learned about her, the more in love I was. I just want to help with all of her problems, for her the romantic “Me” would conquer the earth! Blackmail the Universe! I learned exactly what all those studies meant when they stated that married men work 30% harder—or more! My creative juices flowed, she was my muse, she was the reason for hundreds of lines.

And now she’s gone, I feel left behind. Where is my love? What happened? She is young and weak, and in need of space. Here my love, take your time. She told me to move on twice or thrice. She said goodbye even more, but came back each time; each time and the last.

September cut my knees, like a certain man, I walk with a limp. My time is running out. The Romantic within me just laughs. “Haha! Is she weak? Then make her strong! Make her a man!” (He means, of course, as a warrior. He likes Jung, and believes that each person has a conscious ego that matches their gender, and an unconscious anima/animus that is the opposite gender.)

But real me? I’m seeing in tragedy. When things are too perfect, something vital is always missing. The chain pops off the bike. The lines rust out my brakes. September cut my knees and then I crashed.

So here I am now. She promised she would come back, but oh so cryptic. I pushed my luck. I have my hope. Oh love, come back!

The Romantic is sizing up all the other potential mates in my life. He wants to get married IMMEDIATELY. I say, people don’t do that anymore. It always goes wrong, and everone wants to wait until they’re middle aged and grumpy before they settle down and find out what makes humans happy.

He does not care. He says “people? Oh you mean ‘they’? They are all weak and worthless. They can go to hell. In fact, their single, lonely asses probably already feel like hell! Do not bother what ‘they’ believe. Look at her! Whew, dark hair blue eyes! And look, that one looks like your dream girl! The blonde curls, well endowed!” I have to blush. I make him stop.

The Romantic is sizing up all the other potentials in my life. I see love with virgin eyes, everyone is beautiful to me. But the Romantic? So judgmental! “I guarantee our lover had an IQ of at least 130. All these dumb women.” They are very pretty though, I say, adding, you don’t even know them that well. “Hah! But tell me, which is more beautiful than the girl I love?” I scan my memory. No one. Maybe one. And, maybe she’s also just as smart. But again, between her and I, as between my love and I, there is a barrier, so for now…

I cherish my memories and try not to feel anxious.

I hope she comes back, but I am not as certain as my Romantic side. How certain is he? “For her, I would blackmail the UNIVERSE!” But as for me…perhaps…she was never meant to be.

“But if she was!” …would she come back?

Hold on to me as tightly as I do you.
“Your wife is the closest person to you in your family.”
Why.
“Because she’s the only member that you choose, and she chooses back.”
How romantic!
Tragedy deserves its tragic end!
Hurrah!
Dance with me!