Freedom, poetry, Politics, Revolution, Spain, Uncategorized

Black Mass

I sense no soul in this rabble

just fearful alchemy

a hum of devilish trouble

ghoulish ignonminy

’tis no people’s celebration

this fascist akelarre

just a rueful abnegation

of what we’re fighting for

and, lo,

a ghastly chill is in the air—

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poetry

Lilith’s Mass

lilith

We blaspheme, moiling hard for Baphomet

Incanting frontward back gospel and hymn

Babylon’s mistress, splay upon the tablet

Host baking in the heat of her tight quim

 

Darkling priests prone before the reredos

Scenes of lusty life painted on its front

Fulsome orisons lauding libidos

Men bathing in the mead of woman’s cunt

 

Burst forth from the folds of generation

Waves of robust pleasure exalt the mass

Those gathered give cum as their devotion

As each in turn embugger Lilith’s ass

 

Hail the Lord of Light and open fucking

Give thanks for Baalath’s pleasant endowment

We all owe our existence to loving

And to our nature which is pleasure bent

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