A Celebration of Failure
By Simon Moses
Copyright © by Simon Moses 2010
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Coming Off Me in Waves
Can’t you feel the energy?
Coming off me in waves:
When I touch you–when I kiss you–
When I do anything with you?
Can’t you feel it bouncing off the walls,
Deflecting here and there so quickly
That you can hardly see it?–
But you can perceive it–you can absorb it–
You can take comfort from it.
Do you detect an electrical discharge
On your skin every time we connect?–
Embellishing your aura with a
Festival of lights like a
Legion of fairies kissing you everywhere simultaneously?
I can feel your energy
Coming off you in waves:
Enveloping me, soothing me, ravishing me.
I don’t know how two souls can sustain
This gargantuan influx of energy without
Being blown out of the stratosphere–
But somehow ours have, and somehow
We find ways to incorporate even more!
Inevitable
It is way past late to turn round,
It is inconceivable now to walk away,
We are powerless, dear, to do aught besides:
Letting love reign and have its way.
We cannot stop what should be/must be real,
We cannot hinder what is unquestionably right,
We can only confirm what we already know:
By permitting our hearts to be buttressed by sight.
Those all round will try unkindly to bar our way,
Forces fierce shall make rocky and unpleasant our path,
But fear not, my little one, for we are led and protected,
By the obstinacy of Fate’s unyielding wrath.
And soon shall be the almighty day, when:
We roar through this life side by side;
For no authority here on Earth can prevent
Two stars which Heaven set to collide.
Rolling
Tell me that you love me
A thousand times,
And then a thousand
Times once more;
Cover me with kisses
And leave me weak
Upon the floor.
Hug me, hug me, hug me,
Let me know
I’m not alone;
Let us do all those things
We wished we could
When we were on the phone.
Wrest my hand from desolation,
Squeeze my hand
Tenderly and tight;
Let that be
The precursor,
For initiating our
Passion’s sweet rite.
Roll with me,
Roll with me,
Roll with me,
Forever upon this bed;
Let me be sure that
When I’m with you,
There’s no place else
You’d want to be instead.
Unpoetic Obsession
Unpoetic obsession
Is such an unbeautiful phenomenon.
Every where she goes, he goes.
Why isn’t she
As sick as I?
Her love must be
Being stretched to the
Breaking point.
Isn’t it?
No sex, no emotion,
Could mollify
Such an
Overwhelming Presence;
Such an
Overwhelmingly unpleasant
State of always-being-around.
Even at the height
Of some of my most
Spectacular poetic obsessions,
I made it my business
To give her some
Room to breathe.
A little air.
I would be disgusted
With myself to intentionally
Drown someone
Down to Chinatown
Hell Was Made for People like You
If we accept the obvious:
That the vast majority of humanity
Is composed of idiots
Who incorporate nothing
Of the delicate,
Nothing of the divine
Into their existences,
Then doesn’t it follow
That there absolutely
Must be a place in Hell
To squash and make
Suffer eternally,
All those suffused with stupidity?
It would be a tragedy
If their lifelong unwillingness
To refine their minds
Went unpunished.
Shouldn’t Nietzsche’s herd
Be subjected for
All time to the most
Excruciating tortures,
So that every
Atom in their make-ups
Screams to be substantive?-
Pleads for an impossible
Second chance to live
A life of meaning?
Worthless Penetration
I feel the pain of
Every worthless penetration
Since the dawn of time.
The image of every
Grotesque monster
Sleeping satiated and snoring
Is lodged in Da Vinci detail
In the cells of my brain.
The knowledge of awesome
Oceans of dried semen
Upon countless women’s
Stomachs–tombstones
Marking the death
Of everything sacred–
Pulses like radio waves
Spreading out across
The cosmos, and
Never ceasing to be.
My mind is like
A field of giant radio-receivers
Strewn upon an alien landscape
Absorbing everything;
Transmitting the images
In rage and anger
Bitterness and regret.
Better a woman
Dead at childbirth
Than so horribly fouled
Even just once.
Yet, everywhere there
Is an eternal cycle
Of repeated desecrations,
Until beautiful death
Stamps out any
Further occurrence.
I Won’t Be There When You Fall
I won’t be there when you fall,
Because you were such a fool.
You thought you had it all figured out,
But I had seen the axe coming
Eons before you knew an axe existed.
So I will laugh at your misfortune.
I won’t even say, “I told you so.”
Because I never did–you were
Too smug and self-satisfied at the time
For me to waste my wisdom and
Utter some silly rebuke:
Which right now you would be choking on.
But I don’t care: it’s enough
For me to know I was right
And to see you on the ground.
I remember every stupid word:
Every stupid action.
I let you have it
All your own way.
I bet that now you wish that
Someone would have clued you in.
Nothing Sacred Could Be Applied To Her
Nothing sacred could be applied to her,
Because everything sanctified within her
Had been irreparably desecrated by hordes
Of vandals years ago.
You can only be an object of derision
For discerning men who know and understand
When they witness your loving eyes,
And see you rapt in romantic music;
Revelling in tender feelings towards her.
Know this: there is nothing
Tender about her when you
You consider the myriad positions
Other men have put her in;
There is nothing special about her
When you take into account
The rivers of semen spilled
On her flesh–no less
Disfiguring than the most
Pernicious acid ever mixed.
It is only your retardation
That obscures from your
Vision and from your mind
The repulsive burns–open
And red and puss-filled-
That will never ever heal.
You’re in love with a willing victim
Of repeated disgusting attacks.
The Greatest Joy I Know
The greatest joy I know
Is when I never
Have to see someone
Who I’ve grown
To despise or who
I’ve grown
Amazingly bored of
Ever again.
The sense of liberation
I feel at such
An occurrence is
Well nigh orgasmic.
Other people grow
Nostalgic at the
Thought of never
Seeing someone, who
They’ve been around
For many years, again;
But I grow elated
Like a horse’s tail
Swatting flies.
I Shake With Rage
I shake with rage that
I have been so degraded.
Cast upon this planet
With poetic perceptions;
I see and feel
Every tragedy:
Every human-caused tragedy.
I care not-at-all for
Who is starving
In whatever
God-forsaken place.
I give them space
To do whatever they will,
But when it comes time
For me to claim
What little there is
For me to claim:
They block me.
Foul monsters.
Stealing from the poor.
I am the poor,
Living humbly and simply
In my little corner.
And still they jab at me
And steal my clothes:
My scant raiment,
Which it would be
An insult to say they
Provide warmth.
I am held back
By my mind
Which binds me
To non-action.
I am going nowhere
And making haste
Getting there.
Fuck you and
Your sick obsessions:
For what is truly more pathetic than
A man in love?
I Can’t Wait until You’re Gone
I can’t wait until you’re gone,
Until I never have to see you again,
Until you’re no longer
Part of this world,
Part of this life;
And I never have
To bear your presence
When every intelligent word
Is wasted on you.
I can’t wait until you’re dead,
So that I would be guaranteed
Never to come in contact
With you even by accident.
You disgust me, and
Everything connected with you
Disgusts me as well.
Kill the queen and
Kill the hive;
The world would be
A far better place
If you were not alive.
Too Many Hands
Too many hands
Have known your body,
And those same hands:
Every single one of them,
Is on my throat
Constricting my breathing-
Choking the love
Out of me.
I cannot even see you
Any more:
All I feel are hands:
Dirty hands upon your flesh;
Frozen there for all time.
Never reducing their pressure.
Never will their fingerprints
Be effaced.
I see them all over you–
Undulating like a
Nest of vipers
Biting and squeezing–
Every finger a phallus–
A huge distended phallus–
Bloated with disease
And corpulent with ill intent.
What to you is past:
Is for me eternal.
I can even smell
Those putrid hands
When I’m near you.
It is beyond my comprehension
How you–how anyone–
Could have allowed
Those malevolent manacles
To have made contact
With you in the first place;
And not just one pair
(Which is love-destroying
In and of itself),
But two, three, four,
A score and more.
Perhaps you might have
Been the One,
But you destroyed
That possibility before
I even met you;
And what you’ve done since,
Horrifies me beyond understanding.
I Don’t Need Love: I Need Diana
I don’t need love:
I need Diana-
To blow my life out of the water
To catapult me into the furnace
To give me something
More intense and riveting
Than love.
I need Diana
To throw me for a loop
To turn me inside and out
To take me apart at the seams
To lay waste to my inertia
To blast out my senses
Laying waste to me
Like an A-bomb
Upon a cavalry.
I need Diana
To hit me like
A tornado
To leave nothing standing
And no one left alive.
I want there to be
Nothing that could be salvaged
Not enough body parts
To make a single
Positive identification.
I want her to take it all
And crush it into sand.
Fucking Hard To Understand
Fucking hard to understand
Because I know that
There is a solution here
Buried deep within you.
And I feel that
The harder I thrust
The closer I get
To some great truth–
Some obscured
Universal secret
That I am impelled
Into the deciphering of.
I will dismantle
Your matrix–
I will read your code
Line by line until
I possess an expertise
Into your very existence.
Ah, if only you could
See as the poet’s eyes see,
And to sense the waves
Of energy coursing through
The strands of your flesh,
And desire the warmth
And crave the warmth…
I Need a Place
I would like
To curl up into your arms
And leave the world outside to die.
I would like
To be unaware of
Everything and everyone
I’ve ever known
Or read about or heard about–
To be conscious
Only of you
And your soft breath
And wondering eyes–
Sharing in the mystery
That is you sharing
In the mystery that is me.
I would like
Our bed to be an ocean
With us being
Two tethered vessels
Grappled together–
An unassailable union
To weather any storm
To surmount any tidal wave,
Which could never destroy us,
Rather thrust us to the
Very roof of heaven
Where we might
Kiss the stars;
Then holding fast
As we descend back
On to tranquil waters,
Which cradle us and
Reflect our images,
So that we can
Examine our miracle
To its minutest detail.
I Should Have Stayed Longer
I should have stayed longer,
I should have stayed long enough
To have dissolved into you just once…
At least once.
For if that had happened:
Nothing that came later
Could take it away,
Take it away from me;
It would have become
Part of me;
I could always
Hold it close to me;
And death couldn’t
Take it away;
And life couldn’t
Stand in its way.
It would have
Been mine;
To have and to hold.
Mine;
To protect me from
The whole world.
Mine.
And yours.
Ours.
Grow You like An Evergreen
You told me to
Grow you like an evergreen;
And somehow I know
Exactly what you mean:
I want to be your Sun god:
Bringing life, bringing light.
I want to be your water god
Bringing rain, dampening pain.
I want you to be my
Goddess of the Moon:
See you there
Luminescent about the air.
I want there to be
A great solar eclipse
With you covering me
Absorbing all my radiation–
Take it! it’s yours.
I have no desire to
Shine upon the Earth,
This tiresome orb of dirt.
Cover me completely
And my aura will
Pulse past my borders
When we are merged.
And let them build
Gigantic stone pyramids
To tell our story.
Let them sweat in the sun,
And dance in the moon;
And slave and sacrifice
And point to the heavens,
As we are cognisant
Of only our movement—
Two bodies ruling the sky.
Belen
Though you love me,
I know you’re unaware
Of the sorrow that
Shadows my existence.
These wounds drive
Me back towards
Your sanctuary: your
Secret bower in which
None have entered–
Leaving it sacred
And pure, and
Glowing with a light
That leads me
As I make my way
Through the darkness,
Being nipped at by
Demons, and stumbling
Over the obstacles
With each unfolding
Tragic occurrence.
I consecrate myself
Body and soul
In your image.
In your promise.
In you.
Trust
I am convinced that the
Greatest treasure there is–
Far more valuable than
All the Empires of the Earth–
Is your trust.
That you would
Offer yourself up to me
Completely with nothing
To convince you of
My sincerity except
Your abiding faith,