Friday, February 22, 2013

"Godspeed You! The Black Emperor releases their first LP in ten years!"

The Rapist

With his arms outstretched,
a little life began to awaken inside him besides the fear
shaking his spine’s flesh. 
Raw pain itself pulls the strings
as he peels the skin off the guitar. 
Monotone anger strikes to be stricken again to fullness.
Knows nothing.
Hears nothing, but listens to that goddamn 
sweaty sameness.
Swallowed frustration grows stronger with the rhythm.
His sick penetration –the soul of his mind–
bites deeper and deeper, until insanity becomes a crystallized habit.
Twisted clarity boosts his strength to overcome, 
yet lives to deny the music in the muse once again.

If there was hope, there is.

If there was life, he’s alive...
Loving the speed as he speeds through a lone race.
Hungry and strong out for another prey.
A mighty animal that knows no fear,
as he plays and plays the distorted tune.

As if truth had been spun around his spine
letting new flesh sickly build up from it, 
yet never healing, draining the life out of his 
forsaken being,
he is tired of the beauty
that isn’t his own.  


A used band-aid over rotten wounds as
his claw strikes his own head forever questioning the whys in his heart
and he vomits his hollow hearts out into space 
and becomes one with the emptiness of life, 
beating on his drums – 

A sound substitute for heartbeat.

1 comment:

  1. Words beneath the music--- lines based on as triggered by different tunes. (The latest poem, The Fifth Season is written in the same spirit.) Looks like my new 'gig' :)