Orphic Beast

An injection of self, a reflection of self

Orphic explosion, in this brain of mine

I touch the sky, my shaman-self lifted

To realize some kind, of undefined divine

My soul wants to soar, although some parts to plod

Among the grey citizens of order

Dull thumpers of the one, dull god

 

(And as I come to fear, the night, boredom

And my internal extremes, the hyper-brain

Says ‘enjoy this, though it ends in a crash

You were dead before, so live and fear not death’)

 

Somehow free of the hate that claims others

Oh those self-defined, self-refined prisons they create

Only to lament their loss and deny their place

In the ranks of bile, and spite and hate

Maybe to cloak themselves from the leviathan-machines

Which provides their plenty, as the global south screams

Their shit-eating hypocrisies, judgemental non-philosophies.

And I have landed among their pretention, problems hidden

Beneath the rug, the armoured iron carpet

That supports the weight of their bloated heads

And blood-drenched souls.

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