Category: Poem

Day 2- God’s Unwanted

Today, I’ve got a new guest writer in the coven! Give a warm and hearty welcome to @tarhyel!!
His two-part poetry today would be our meal today. Do enjoy!

God’s Unwanted

Why do you continue to ripple the waters of my inner peace?

For what reason do I deserve such torment?

Let me be, let me listen to that sweet sound of silence,

To take refuge in that vast void in which I reside.

Away from the chaos of your world;

From your so called pleasures which are but illusions of ephemeral value.

You persecute me because I take no part in your Ignorance?

No more, for I have persevered long enough.

I accepted you with a heart cheering and bright as the stars

But know this, from the brightest star comes the blackest of holes

I shall render your lands desolate.

All existence affiliated to you shall be no more.

What is it you value most in this world?

I shall take pleasure in ripping it apart,

As I watch your heart disintegrate along with it.

Expose you to agony even the devil could not comprehend;

Roister not over your demise, for death is only the beginning.

I shall take you portals far beyond the knowledge of Hades.

As for your unborn seeds, it is their Fate to suffer the sins of the father.

For they will be delivered in the After-Life

For all eternity you shall remain in the spiral of Pandemonium.

From this moment forth you remain cursed.

God hears you not, for He sees justice in my actions.

You have been labelled The Unwanted Children of God.

The Light of Dark (God’s Unwanted II)

Trapped, Confined in a place where time is an illusion.

Warmth, peace and love can only be imaginary.

For all we know these feelings have somehow become lost in time.

A dimension where the only horizon is darkness swallowing darkness,

Where the cause of every action is evil,

And the effect even more evil.

It wasn’t always like this.

A price we pay for embracing the euphoric gift of free will.

Judgement, placed upon us by a certain being; the righteous one.

He possessed powers far beyond the fathom of any mortal,

Proof that he is aided by a divine presence.

And so he labelled us GOD’S UNWANTED, children of the dark…

So be it then, for within the spreading darkness, we have found a new light;

A light with a dark aura,

An army of banished souls,

Uncouth beings, all with a common resolve,

To bring death to the righteous.

A legion for we are many.

Like the beasts we are, we shall claw our way up to the heavens,

And burn it all to dust.

Hear my words for on this day; there shall be a cry louder than anyone all that is has ever heard before,

And upon victory spread our rule across the entire universe.

For those who oppose our will, come; we will be waiting,

To welcome you with open claws.

Reading this the first time gave me delicious chills.
Tarhyel would love feedbacks so people, tell him what you think!
Again, if you think you have a random topic for me to yarn dust about, comment and let me know! 😀

The Conflagration of St Lucifer

Ah Dionysus is here again with his controversial controversy pieces.




Shackled from the head to the feet,
No longer would he envision the street.
Punished solely for being sincere,
St Lucifer rages with a fiery stare.
Music was his gift and he would play no more;
His fingers all severed, fallen to the floor.
Art was his passion and he would see no more;
Both his eyes plucked, bleeding at its core.
Knowledge was his treasure to adorn,
Black nails did they hammer into his brain, they called horns.
Pure pleasure was his only desire,
Intense pain was what he got from his sire.
Adventure was his to inspire,
his spine pulled out of his back forever made a crawler.
Serpent became his symbolic form.
The most beautiful of all angels he was, before the deform.
Metal did they heat in the fire,
Searing the flesh with no respite.
After he had been tortured and burnt red,
‘DEVIL’ was what they labelled on his forehead.
Books did they write about his notoriety,
Where pure creativity was labelled sorcery.
He made a promise before drawing his last breath,
That he would capture the souls of all living on the earth.
‘HELL’ they called his kingdom of knowledge for Ignorance is Bliss.
Heaven is a place where man need not resist.
Art, music and literature is his gift to the world.
He is the unappreciated hero of every boy and girl.
Something was wrong and that’s why He came again.
Creativity and pain go together like Water and Rain.
Tee Hee! 😀

Memoirs of a Cobra

Hey people!
Been a bit quiet here hasn’t it? First post of November yea?
Decided to take a little break from writing anything serious, sorry. Taking my time to do more reading. Maybe I’ll recommend some books on here soon!
The good news is that I’d be putting up some of my old stories and some other random posts all lifted off my Facebook notes. Lol.

Anyway, today I have a new writer here, trying out his hands at the whole blogging thing! His handle, @volturi_lord and his blog would be kicking off at
For today, we have a poem (or spoken word type of thing).

Memoirs of a Cobra.

I slither through the opening into the sandy place.

Down in the corner, there’s a place of shade

Where I can rest from the sun’s scorching heat.

There’s a clang which startles me.

The wall under which I passed has opened

And towards me walks two high animals.

The ones that have plagued me right from birth,

Pursuing me with sticks and stones, trying to kill me.

I raise my head and look towards them.

They stop in their tracks, spotting me at the same instant.

They make sounds and move about frantically.

Out of the tall stone another one comes, something long protruding from his hands.

Stones land around me and I move to avoid them.

I spit out of fear and anger;

Fear for my life and anger at their hostility.

I make it to the wall which opens and I slither underneath,

Into that long ground of stone

Which goes on and on and on.

Something heavy hits my body and I can no longer move.

They make more sounds and increase in numbers.

These high animals that have broken me.

My head in raised in agitation and in pain, I spit.

Also,  in desperation too as I need to get away.

I try but I can’t move.

It’s surprising.

Its like they have divided me in two,

And I’m joined together by piece of hide and flesh.

There is a whirling sound and an iron animal comes.

It stops and from it two of the higher animals alight.

They stand with the others, multiplying themselves every second

A little distance away; my spit can’t reach them,

Why are they so hostile?

Why do they hate me so?

All I want is a cool place to rest and now I am bruised.

He comes towards me, walking on two sticks

Another is protruding from him: it is flat with a sharp looking edge

I  spit at him and he does the same.

This disconcerts me and I turn away.

Then he brings the sharp edge against my neck …

                                                                                                                                                              – Dankaro


That is it!
What do you think? Anyone had snake experiences before? Share!
A thank you to @volturi_Lord for the contribution!
If anyone considers themselves to be good at writing and has something I can use here, do get at me via Twitter, @weird_oo and we’d take it from there. 😀

I’ll see you soon!
Tee Hee!


Hey! Hey!

Today’s post is for you lovers of Poetry/Written word/ Whatever you cool kids call it.
I’m known for my horrible attempts at Poetry so I’m always in awe of people who weave words so effortlessly. Today’s word weaver is a lovely poetess who chose my spot as a testing ground so to speak.
Ladies, Gentlemen, the rest of you, welcome @St_Gothica. (Yes, I named the post after her. I’m generous like that…or clueless.)


A boiling pot, smouldering with rage;
The cold strike of a lightning flash;
Eyes staring, pushing
Against your wall.

The thankfulness on their behalf
That murder is a crime.
The urge to retreat into a corner
And avoid humanity.

Or go out, eyes and guns blazing,
To rid the earth of its greatest pest;
Its ever feeding parasite.

To commandeer the elements,
To burn and grip and bury and gulp,
To grind and slash till not quarks remain.

Or to build a fort of ice and stone,
Unaffected by the words and stares;
Impervious to the deeds and seeds,
Of discord and disdain and distaste.



“It would all too so easy.” I thought,
“To pick up the gun and fire a shot.
Or even more soothing and pleasant it’ll be
When I feel my life-blood drain out of me.
Or just a little pain I’ll have to endure
If I took some pills and passed out on the floor.”

All this my mind said to me,
Promises of peace wide as the sea.

But a little further,
My heart couldn’t but falter
At the thought of being forgotten in dust.

Then at that I thought,
“Oh I won’t be missed.
There’ll probably be something new,
By the time they sit in the pew.”

At this I take my leave
(The noose I have just wouldn’t give)
I wonder which of the verses would live….


Do give her your thoughts on her words by commenting thanks! 🙂


I am no poet but reading @DrealGenie’s first poem kinda encouraged me to bring out the little ‘rubbishes’ I’ve always written and saved in a dark place. Well…enjoy (I’d use that term loosely)


She was no poet.
She cried in frustration as she tried
to string words together.
Like badly strewn beads,
The clitter clattered to the floor.
Delete. Delete.
She punched the delete key
In frustration.

She is no poet.
She cries in frustration as she tries.
But try,
She never stops trying.



Every incision for every syllable in your name
Every drop of blood, a testament to your shame.
I’m your lover and your executioner.
Quicken the smouldering embers of hate
I’m nothing but the tool of fate.
Karma is a bitch.
You really should have remembered, you snitch.



It exists yet, does not exist.
Why then did we give something non-existent a name?
The god of numbers.
No matter how huge, it would divide it
And produce a replica of itself,
Another Zero.
Yet, nothing can divide Zero.
Impossible! The mathematicians would cry
A perfect circle.
The blackhole.
No positives, No negatives.
Single, lone entity
What is Zero?
Why is Zero, Zero?
Why then the need,
To create a Zero?


That’s it!
What do you think? X_X

The Carnality of Fortune

If by my fault,
I am rejected, then
by my excellence,
into perfection,
I am injected like black tar heroin
into the dead vein of the world.
All my glistening wrath,
the equations that pervert my immaculate maths,
the torture and the sprawl of poignancy, the waters like ether bath.
In valleys,
in calm storms,
tempests of the calamity
like repentance
in the arms of
the dying,
the young,
the lying
and the highly strung.
Blood is nothing but the taste of a moment in the rapture of eclipse,
meat in the carnality of fortune,
my infinite, eternal fucking fault.

I am mad,
but only because madness loves
the taste of my flesh
next to the rotted putridity
of your composed shell.
I am feast for madness.

Today, I spill the souls
of a thousand enemies,
the spirits of a million worthless friends, the brains of all the
warmongering serpents.
Guts and ruin,
minds and absolution,
the perverted,
the inverted ashes
of the converse day,
the fortune tellers,
the elliptical fallacies.
This is the metamorphic industrial,
the twisting of the changeling,
channel me, flay me on pyres for the burning rust of deadness birthed.

I am only the
worse version
of the best fucking dream
I dream.

Under The Mango Tree

This was a poem @Newton_Samson sent me ages ago! Can’t believe I never posted it. X_X! Do enjoy! 🙂

She waited until night fall
Very close to their favourite wall
She waited for his love call
And she heard nothing, nothing at all

She tried not to remember
But the day was in November
The same month he met her
When he came newly, as a corper.

He strode into the village in his khaki
His beauty like the fabled Fulani
She wanted to be his houri
From then, all she wanted was Lamidi

He taught her all about lust
Feelings, she thought were lost
She forgot all about her husband’s trust
giving her all to take every thrust.

How they all despise her
Women spat when they passed her
Every foul name they called her
Is it her fault that he loved her?

He promised to take her away
Back to the city where he had his way
Where they would live on his pay
Where even the gods don’t have a say

So she waits at the mango tree
The place he made them three
Now she and his child free
Her emotion in turmoil she wants to reel.

He has gone
Her burden she bears alone
To her husband must she atone?
Who can blame her if she has a heart of stone?

Swan Song

They partied till the break of dawn
Around each other they fawn
Knowing this was their last sun
Let them be, let them have fun

He would not last the Night
Having given up the fight
This has caused him all his might
And robbed his future of its sight

He was such a lovely dancer
Before he was ravaged by cancer
Now he dances with wobbly toes
Like a newly born fawn of a blind doe

But together they the cancer dare
To stop them from having this last dance
Her body clothed his body bare
The needles in his body like some cruel lance

On her shoulder did he breathe his last
The candle burning, dying fast
He is gone to the world beyond, very vast
Sailing like a ship, without a mast.

But everyone who saw his last dance would testify
That truly he left them mystified
About how with his graceful steps he beautified
A night, where only death was dignified.

*Swan song came out as a result of the fear of dying without a last major performance on the world stage. The swan is a graceful bird which sings just once in its lifetime, and this occurs at the time of its death and that is the most beautiful song you would ever hear. We all wish to have a major performance we all can’t be lead acts but let’s make our cameo worth it.*

The Black Maiden

Black Maiden
She danced the Bata*
Like it was all that mattered
Her words rang with laughter
A dance only she could master

The drummers’ hands slick with sweat
brows jammed, bodies wet
drums bounced like confused pets
therein, their destinies met

Back to back they swung their hips
The summer song strained on their parched lips
Too much rhythm, wrappers slip
Like nylon on a toy ship.

All through that joyful uproar
The blood bubbling in his loins roar
Her sight made him soar
Lust ate at him, like a hungry boar

Have her he must
For his mind was confused by lust
All he could think of was his thrust
Into her comely bust.

Suddenly, he grabbed her from the rear
As she bathed, flaunting her ware
Savagely he had her in his lair
And took her in a way not fair

Now shunned by all
Like goods left to decay at the stall
She tries to stand but still she falls
Arrested by pain she wishes death calls

Now she hears the drums beat
Her shame fills her with heat
She curses the prince who did the feat
And left her naked at shame’s cheerless feet.

*This is a kind of dance peculiar to the Yorubas in the western part of Nigeria, West Africa. It is usually a story between lovers, all put into a dance. Many who have seen the salsa claims it is the offspring of Bata so also the Cuban dance.*


That feeling of unease,
when you know your soul has fled from peace.
That feeling of haste,
where you consume energy and turn it to waste.

That feeling of guilt,
for your imagined filth.
That feeling of rage,
for the fear that keeps you in the cage.

That feeling of mind,
not in company with its kind.
Paranoia is Perversion of Thought.
Thought is a Perversion of Will.

Thought is something you ought,
to use as you would a pill.
Minimum and easy,
then get busy.

Will it to being,
From obscure to seen.
Turn off the autopilot,
stop getting fucked from behind like a harlot.

Take the wheel and stare,
to the land of everywhere and nowhere.
For in your journey between you will find,
that Paranoia is Perversion of the Mind.

Perversion of Mind is Incarceration of the Soul.
Your Will becomes scarred with a hole.
Think less and do more.
Don’t imagine what lies beyond, open the door.

You don’t have to use force,
just attempt and murder loss.
For you win when you have defeated doubt,
substituting the mirror image for the route.

Open your eyes and see,
that life is what you want it to be.
It might not be so now,
but hold on to it and wipe your brow.

The truth shall set you free,
but the truth we cannot see.
We can only feel,
the true feeling is not one to heal.

But one to sharpen and scar with skill,
are you ready for the battle ?
To face your paranoia not the devil ?
To kill your inner demons for they block your shine.

For which if you destroyed, you’d be more merry than wine.
Life is of but two choices,
like the sound of silence then voices.

There are no in-between.
You’re either red or green.
You’re either an abstract or concrete thinker.
You have to be steady in your choice not flashing like a blinker.

Concrete you follow the rules,
Abstract you create the rules.
Each path has its merits and its pools.
Kill paranoia today brethren.

And return back to Eden.
For how can we be afraid ?
When we don’t even know from whence we were made.

Reality is an Illusion.
Illusion is a Dream.
Rational thought is Confusion.
Pure Will from the Stream.

All you have to lose is boredom.
Live life and it will make you cum.

The End.

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