a speed-written response to Dante's 'Inferno' (made up of 44 pages)

fine portrait (in profile) of the very late great genius poet Dante Alighieri




'And death goes down the Dominion.
Mother-naked, strapped at tongue,
The softness of spread-eagled night
Splits the ages of the sun
With madness markedly contained
In guns, bombs, gas, knives.

At the first circle of hell
I saw the mansions of this earth
Dissolve to dissembling flame.
The quietus of the skies beyond
Confused with hail the rain-storm
Which held the clouds of time together.
The second circle of malformed
Death decreed that sadness scarred
The birds which winnowed in the seas.
Surrounded, murder groaned.

Here there are knives down drains
And scattered shadows of the noosed
Angelus: kinematic force
Must rape the swiftness of this coarse
Rainbow, and petroleum
Lashes eyes unto the burned
Lids of life's third mind.
A cloak of darkness wraps around
The torrents of a snowfall
And shawls of bleeding entertain
The unsexed beast of night and day.
Death entreats the sick to bear
The wagers of this tar-dressed night.
The depths of murder feud for pain
And the quietus of the killed
Bears guns, bombs, gas, knives
Unto the centre of a hidden sea.

Mother-naked, strapped at tongue,
Death goes down the Dominion.
Dom Daniel may not snip my sex
For oceans turned inside their bays
Will see their slicks of kerosene
Arise from burning empires.
Kisses dress mad girls as children.

The crushing wavelets of despised
Wars transpose all rivers with
The breathing moaning of death's dawn;
And at the very base of hell
Arms outstretch as if alive -
But thence the swiftness of love
Turns hands askance from welcoming
Wherein man's angels move
Against the pits and coal-phased
Lasers shot from out the cloyed
Plains of brain-dead woman.

It's rather like a downward spiral,
Where marriage lives for just one day
or else the car man drives in
Lies smashed to pieces in the grey
Willfulness of life's exile.

Guns, bombs, knives and gas
Will traipse the sun with thunder-claps
And where this world lies cleansed
Of all her enamoured fearing,
The fragility of life
Must whisper in Christ's ears.

Where hell forms a rainbow spent
From out the serpent-brows of
The lakes, there is a sound heard
That blasts mauve music with
The fatal faiths of the living-dead.

My death is masked in coca-cola.


There is radiance hidden where
The naked shadows of the dead
Race alongside the Thames
And the moon is bejewelled
And its questioning killed.
Everything here is broken up
By the tears of the mournful dead.

Eyes peep from out the silk
Of the oceanic quests
Of the raped and saved.
The stars of space jive
Because the stars are dancing
And because the stars are dancing
The native pulse of time
Drives the heart of death.

Here, there are radios
Blasting their sounds for
The sleeping figures of
Their meandering tribes
And the gauntlets of saved
Peoples clasp corn
From the meadows of wheat
And these meadows are owned
By the sown seeds of the saved.

Hell brains sex and drains
Rivers of their shoals
And prancing birds adorn
The shores of time -
The car of heaven steels
Ships of rhyme with chained
Wisdom, and the day
Drowns inside its mauled

Birds of prey denounce
The void and the bright
Confinements of the moon
Entrance the ghosts of
The emboldened heights
Of murder made whole.
The summits of the blue
Marry to the dusts
Of the wedded and man keeps
His secrets to himself
But secrecy rots in the bulb.

All hail the places where
The nails of loss are banged
Deep into the eyes
Of god. All hail the spires
Which beckon Christ to kill.
All hail the sermons of
Death's church and its fold.


There is a beast-car locked inside
The spirals of the tamed.
The rubicund and lovely
Knock upon the doors of
Life's chapel.

If sense has claimed to drift
Accept now my solemn regards.

The circles of the sun
Clasp the mettles of men
From the fuels of the rain
And the gasolene come with us
Entertains the smiles
Of the motorised dark.

There is a beast in this town
And this beast eats love
And the fullness of its grind
Resounds inside the ground.

Enter again loud sleep
And the hot dream it carries.
Enter the son of man
And his ghost come with us.

Shake the dawn from out your hair.
The naked couples in this street
Ride the seasons of the dead.

The epicentre of the killed
Roves the fields of drained
Veins. The summit of the sun
Deranges life to find
The deadness of the dawn
Roped in the nooses of the maimed.
The murdered tribes of death
Must conflagrate the dunes
Of moonshine. Passion swerves
Against the ev'ning sky.

Guns, knives, bombs, gas
Inflame the glibness of men
Who stride the fires of time.
Guns, knives, bombs, flames
Dictate a life for time to
Lead. The seconds tick aside
The movements of the clock;
And we are snapped in two.
Guns, bombs, knives, gas
Curate a church of stained
Blood. This carmine soul
Must lop away the hair of
The peoples. Sadness deifies
The hellish wishes of
The dead. Eyes pierce the round
Wires of a timepiece. Scathed
By stabbings, gauntlets clasp
The sickles of the underfed.
Drunk, sailors swim for
The dustbowls of the shorn
Heads of the suede-enclosed.
The bells of silence teach
The preachers of the day
To prance inside the gloss
Of fear. Fear lies hidden where
The oceans of the thrilled
Crush against an open-shore.
This open-shore holds jewels
And jewels must entertain
The rubies worn upon death's hands.
The clock of terror burns
And the silent mission of
The dead must intertwine with
The diadems of rock-n-roll.


My cock knows no way to
Work. My hard-on is not swell.
Bells dance inside the gloom
Of a shrivelled shrunken muse.
My cock has no ode to
Sing for nor might lustive sound
Create a space for my sex to
Vocalise its death. The bright
Catacombs of blood must
Quell my softness and constrain
The sureness of the stabbed rain
Which gluts my sensual being.

Hell is filled with ogres.

My penis does not work.
The last time I moved, I was a child.
Magazines can't change this.
My cock lies deadened inside seas
Of spite; and I may not move.
I may not dance and cannot
Listen to the vibes of
God without defying love.
The truth is that an angel
Banged its head inside my skull.
Bells entreat the living killed.
O, when will I endure again
The stiffness of my own desires?

Hell is filled with bunyips.
The tides of death derive from
The visions of a sex-war chained
Around the violations of
Promiscuits. Cognition makes me cry.

The middle of hell refines death
And smacks the faces of this child.
Babies mourn the dreams
Of their parents. Heaven may not
Delve its death. I die now.

Hell is filled with bees
And bees devour their hives.
Pots of honey rove
The sun. Hell is filled with
Wasps. The hairs of women
Darken passions with the
Enamoured curates of the
Killed. My mind is spent.

Eyes break up and men
Seize foresight from the
Words of love. Fused,
Stars burn out. Denial
Drowns effusiveness in
Blood. My blood tests red.

The flowers in hell have heads
Which behave like ghosts.
Ghosts are phantoms and ghosts
Host parties for the thrilled.
This mad mind denotes the thrilled
As shadows of fun dance and play.
The stride of this world ends
The earth. The quietus made by men
Who lead the dance because they
Have no home must interact
With times that shorten breath.
This house is filled with lions.
Cats sleep inside their fires.
Eyes peer from out the windows
Of raped kids, and defiance
Shapes the snatches of the void.

Lust curates the playing-fields
Of love. If sense has died away
Please accept that passion must
Rue the day it chooses for
Revival. Christ is dead and gone.

Fires are thrilled by enemas.
Pangyrics spill from out death's wall.
Anodynes to murder split
God's mind. The centre of the sun
Reveals a star condemned by
The murdered masons of the soul.
If man travels beyond light
He shall find a second earth
Contained in the embers of a third
Mind. Venus calls to her friends.


Death flows with sucrose and
Dextrose. The sirens of the killed
Rise up from the pogroms of the West.
Lithe eyes peer from the nest of love.
Death flows with shrouded felines.
The wars of this world pandecate the culled
Laws of the misbegotten maimed.

There is no ode for the raped.

Time weeps inside itself.
See how my soul defines time
Merely by seeming whole.
The darkness of the murdered spills
Days deep. The doctors to love's son
Must spark the flames of life.
Christ sails off down stream
And the measurements of the killed
Drive the engines of the spayed.
Cats bear kittens from the void.
The waxen faces of this world
Dangle fuses where no pulse
Refines the madness of the live.

Eyes peer out of the human crusts
Of an earth devoid of sexual pain
But sex cannot divert the dead
From out the tombs their parents paved.

The furtive circles of the killed
Dilate the eyes of smothered god.
The curves of girls who do not love
Curate the cancers of this world.
I live where softness spears this heart.
The oils of passions do not serve
To weaken weeping with the swerve
Of girls. My woman does not tread
This earth. The incubus of thrills
Defines the Dulcinea of life.

The animus of deftness treads
The tar-dealt pathways of
The damned.

This world has nothing to offer.
The core of the earth dictates
A redulent place for sex and murder.
This world is ruled by apes.
This world has nothing to offer.
The core of the earth dilates
The pupils of the dead.
Endless whimpers in love's head
Drive the flowing moon.
Inside this earth, temples boom.

Hell is filled with rodents.
Rats run the middle of
Life's grave. Man dies to find
Charon sailing high where skies
Strip the skin from off life's
Treasure-trove. Mankind rides
The shippen bones of time.
Psychopathy rules love's storm.

Hell is filled with mutineers.
Privateers defend the gates
Of hell. The squirrels in this earth
Snap the hymens of girlkind.
Hell entreats true sex to bloom
But blossomings in hell must
Smash the verbiage of man.

My death is masked by bleeding.


Death is willed from above.
Do not let dying harm you.
People who hurry forwards must
Push death's weight where
We roll death's heaving form.
Painfully, we curse afresh
The newness of this dead hour.
People who hurry forwards must
Choose to sin or else wither.

Hell is filled with spent souls.
One on the other, hist'ry gathers
Opponents from its clashing sun.
So we descend further into torture.
We experience more the cunts we nailed.
painfully tethered to hell's winds,
We shove the weight of death until
Life buries madness in Christ's grave.

How is it that we sin and wither?
Like waves that crash against the coasts
Of extraordinary dying, souls gather
And the hooks of experience constrain
One arm held out and a further askance.
Of avarice and wrought excess, I
Discern the plagues of indolence.
All of the gold found in the moon
Must ask fortune for its soul.
This world's great empire stains
The robes of life. Enchanted souls
Drift down corridors of flame.
Here great indolence plagues you.
May you receive god's teachings.

Hell is fuelled by harpies that
Smash the teeth of children who
Devote their afterlives to blue
Movies. When shall magic preach
The darkness of the words man
Spews from off his crippled tongue.

The weight of hell denotes change.

We point by name one thousand souls
And mordent pity breaks lost life.
Half-lost inside decrial's coils,
We speak with those who cannot shine.
Where dictators line life's mind
The light of love contaminates
The stillness of lust's burning field.
With joys denied, love illustrates
The fairness of death's body.

With joy made strong enough to cleave
The fame of god, time's heart must sear
Veins with timeless fierceness and
The fires of fusion sunder sex.
Now man will speak and hear the dawn.
Man's birthplace is a township built
Nearby the shadows of life's grave.
Malignant breezes fashion death.

Sometimes we read with glances joined
With madness: deranged eyes must smash
The kisses of a mouth sealed shut.
Death must swoon and thence the cut
Shade of death will dye bright red
The heart of life. Man thrills with heat.
Overwhelmed by books which plead
For violence, woman delves her curse.
Girls read of Lancelot and drive
The waves of life. Cerberus
Sunders darkness with his teeth.
Struggling where the lakes of hell
Swell inside the mouths of night,
Gobbets of red earth will shield
Sounds and motion from death's plight.
The moment when man gnaws his meat,
Fists will gather grass from out
The blaring focus of the killed.
Man's eyes are red, his beard blue-black.
With ended life, the ousted moon
Bids mankind to weep and cry.
Temporizing light with gloom,
We answer to life's misery.
Battered by rain, the temples of
The dead enamour romance to
The blue-black centre of life's
Reign. With slow steps rambling
Against the mountains where men
Judge the burning of the stars
Of time, the future lives of
The waiting dead go searching for
The hostile power of death.
Eternally resounding, life
Skips the speeches of time.


As soon as hell colludes with
Its circles, we shall curse
Afresh the pains of life.
Painfully once more the howl
Of creatures buried in time
Will roll their weight against
The chest of man's enemy.
The waves of death will treat
Humankind with wrongness blown
Down. The wails of god shall
Fill the shells of war
With sound. Noise will petrify.

Hell is filled with apemen.

With bliss, rejoicing romance for
Forbidden needs, hell's primal stage
Follows rivers round the sedge
Of wretchedness. This dismal wabe
Of oceans turning blue-then-black
Glazes death inside its sea.
Strangeness fellows stars which slink
And I lean forward with intent
To hear the curses of the void.

Like rain, all raging, outside death,
The wisened master of decrial
Departs by foot to find the maze
Of love. Do not desert me now.
I have no guides to judge death by.
Drawn to peril, vexing hell
Dismays the guardians of night.

Hell is filled with mutants.

Demons scramble back and gates
Contrive to block our through road.
The insolence of love is downcast.
Someone is coming to open the doors.
Already by our side, the crew of death
Blasts the tongues of the bolted flame
And flames weave circles with the rays
Of fire. Unbolted, the sentience of man
Drives the mind of time to its brink.
Demons shambol and the remembrance of
Life refines the muteness of love.

Someone is coming to open this city.
Our adversaries slam the portals of
The entertained. Intermittent pools
Of gas drink blood as the waivering
Casts of the killed curate for killed
Children the route to the other side.

Someone is coming to cpen this city.
A secret bridge contrives to erode
The road which leads into the sun.
And then I say to man: 'Do not feel
Dismayed by my vexation: I shall not
Murder time with my going nor tame
The madness of this elemental sphere.
Earth is safe and is saved by
The killed.'

Someone is going to open this city.


The beast of hell fell shrinking where
The ground descended into gloom.
We descended deeper down.
Despondent, earth appeared to mourn
The cross-of-god. Who is it may
Heap together shame and spite?
We dance around and hurry for
The tortures of the film-screen
And there we visualise sex
Smashed. Another country calls
For guns, bombs, knives, gas.
In this dead life we use a mind
So squinty-eyed that in the spent
Gardens of the culled, we croon
Against the burning of the killed
Night. The gold-leaf of the moon
Breaks the hymen of betrothed
Woman. The wearied soul of
humankind contends with
The foolish creatures of the stained
Glass found burnished where
Fists are clenched but closed.
This life is an unkind brawl.

You can see, my son, how ludicrous
The briefness of man's living seems.
According to his judgment, life
Can not stop turning but then stops

Where foaming springs quicken
Man's ambition, dismal quiet
Must charge the passages of life
With marshland. I saw people where
Teeth were tearing piecemeal.
My kindly master explained:
'Here there are ghosts for whom
The sullen sweetness of the air
Made bubbles surge from out
The gladness of life's borrowed day.'

Then at length I came to town.
And life's dry bank was shrouded in
The eyes of god. Where dismal smoke
Spoke the words of hell, I
Rose from the surface of the Styx.

Hell is filled with fetid lords.

We cannot enter now except with
Woe. God says that passions will
Glow like eyes. Three hellish furies
Transpose to proclaim womankind.
Of bright green hydras, here the rain
Of hell entreats the flinching blast
Of storms which ride forevermore
The madness of death's horde.

Understand that learned lairds
Must fear the crash of tide on tide.
With these two hands, I expurgate
The turbid waves from out death's skies.
Sound will spill from out a drum
Of oil. The forests of the saved
Must fear the vile collision
Of battered trees and dustclouds.
The roar of sex will scorn lives.

You whose mind is cleared by
The lessons of the dead must
Tear from off these mudbanks
The fearsome crash of the disclaimed
Souls of space. Verses god has written
Will make Medusa come. Ah,
The Furies bay for blood and
The trusting motions of the stained
Skeins of life devour time.
The veil of these strange stanzas meld
With the faces of rhyme.
Turgid oceans rave inside
The thwarted cities of the spilled
Bloods of the preternatal dead.
Anxious to yearn after fear,
We swallow the knives of the
Forgiven. Forgetfulness derides
The livid dead. Secured, life's bulb
Rots away. The punishments of lithe
Filthy humans stride the streets
Of mourning. The anguish and the high
Parapets of sex and death
Crowd the graves of anguished tribes.
God devours the coffers of
Stone. With converts on the rise,
The lids of Christ were raised.
Heretics lie days deep in sand.
The quickened prising of the void
Eliminates the passions of
The roaches found enshrouded where
The soils of darkness spume.

Hell is filled with living-rooms.


A savaged beast fell into the ground.
Man descended to the fires which
Made justice from the crashing Thames.
So we descended to the umpteenth mile.
Torture strode the heavens and
Death's opponent rode the blue horse
Of time. People hurry as they glide
Elsewhere. In pain, collisions with the stars
Cursed afresh the softness of time.
We dance around. Here I saw more souls
Contaminating swiftness with the killed.
Experience of life did not unveil
The god of hell. God answered "Silence is
Proclaimed from heights which cannot
Sack the universe's ills".
I curse afresh the riders of this storm.
The ugly brawl of romance must
Wear away the phantoms of the day.
Ignorance may plague you. Please receive
The mask of heaven's features. Death
Rejoices as he turns. I saw the slopes
Of hedonism crush the warrened waves
Of lime. Where foaming waters spray
A dismal watercourse, the peoples glide
Against the clouds they've shaded. I
Gaze intently at the bared and ruddy
Muddiness of faith. Teeth tear away
The clotted veins of terror. Red eyes
Turn toward the shallow muds enclosed
Inside the ashes of the dented void.
She who bore us lives forevermore
And the sight god gave us praises love.
New cries of lamentation reach my ear,
And I lean back to peer intently out.

A kindly master says: 'A city draws near
Whose name is Death.' The walls of the bleak
Place I was born enshrouds the lithe space
Of life. Drawn from peril, desertified lives
Stay at my side. With departures from graves
Engraved in the biers of the coffins held
Up high, the figures of the living spend
Seed where blackness creeps about the moon.
Crowds in these graves hold sepulchers grown
Hotter than flame. If we continue to walk
Between anguish and peace, the world of pain
Shall deny sound and soundlessness proclaim
Followers of every sect. Horrible pain
Entombs birth in the anguish of this mind.
Sepulchers glow with the beat of the sun.

Leaving behind this world, I see the day
Cry for the lamentation of the dead.
Crazed with rage, fierce bodies define
The wails of the killed. Before we've made
A satisying trip through flame, Lord God
Sights us and turns against the jade
Bodies of the knifed. Man peeps into
The fitting coasts of the colour blue.
Before we've sailed we cross a lake
Of burning. I lean forward to find
The world above us. Lamentation scrawls
Words upon the graves of the raped
And the embraced form of the stars
Spears the vice of the unsexed ghouls
And ghouls displace life's sunrise.

Ferine mangling cuts the nameless thread
Of the worn. Eyes seize the coasts of spent
Rain. The terrain of the darkened dead
Draws from peril the departures of
The ripped apart. If we can desert now
The deaths of those who are tempered by
A foolish death, then the gates of hell
Will open and the swiftness of the sky
Desire to speak with the monsters of
The night. Displaced, the masters of
Space decline. Love remains here
Dazed by God. We hear the wise
Voice of the masters of the sky.
If we can venture further then
The insolence of lust will spear
The portals of the entrance to
The face. Someone is coming to
Open death's gate or else
Love contrives to lock its door.
Vexed, we walk too slowly and
Blast the martyrs of the spilt
Blood contained inside the vile
Phials of the roads of hell.

My own flesh is stilled by
The quagmire of the spended
Shades of the living killed.
Be sure that the mud of sex
Drowns the wicked leanings of
The murdered or else exhume
The spirits of domed heaven.

I am scared and plainly see
How the route of hell is formed
And I have been down there.
Everything in creation thrills
To the tricks of this conjuror.

Hell is filled with manitous.

When flesh dies, questions must
Raise from the dark the earth's crust.
We travel alive with intentions borne
Upon the biers of the malformed.
From the waist up, behold this man.
His sound interrupts from the scorned
Heart of the stained. Red blood bakes
The flesh of the maimed. Behold man.
Now rail along the pathways of
The tortured and the raping lives
Of chidden children on the rise.
Draw back and hear the dread alarm
Of nobles. In this spasmoid space
Question secrecy and dance.
By virtue of blind genius
Weep. And man is straightened by
The shades of time. We gaze again
At shattered luminaries. Flight
Ordains the visions of space.
Already my eyes seek the talk
Of punishment. Oh tell me now
Of intervening words or else
Rule supreme inside the clouds.

When things draw near, unravel
Defenceless peoples from the horde.
What time will bring proves senseless.
Remoteness grants us words.


The knot of reason ravels with the failed
Carnage of the hanged. Gods answered me:
"Like someone with true vision, you appear
To bear your sadness with you and
If I hear rightly, you appear to see
Remote things well. My light entreats you."

Who rules supreme as when the fault of God
Bears lies from out the lips of his flock.
When things draw near us, we must flail
In useless space or else the underworld
Defines its present tense as interfurled
With knowledge. The repellent of disdained
Music must strike perfume from the floor
And in that scent the odour of the foul
Rise from out the rivers of the Styx.

Toward the centre of this foaming life
We follow paths of madness and deranged
Fingerings of woman. High up where
The topmost rim of deep-cut living grinds,
We stand inside a pen of canibals.
The stink of heaven dwells in the abyss
Of hell. Excess drives us far where
The master of the flames inside the soul
Tends the wickedness of foresight drained.

Because violence involves the dead
And because violence apportions blame
To mankind's dead, the ruinous offense
Of living extorts despoilers for
The coins on their eyes. Simoniacs
Pump their pimps for bonds of love
That further life. The special trust
Of impassioned lust creates
The nest of love. Forsaken dreams
Add distaste to life's definition.
Divine Intelligence shapes art
From out the pools of sex and life.
Nature shakes.

Of gross deception, burst campaigns
Of Charon sail death's ferry west.
Into the waters of the dead
We turn ashore. The mud-clad signs
Of Phlegyas roll the hands of God
Inside the cuts of rivers worn
Away. We guide a single boatman
Down the furling streams of sworn
Fire. The boarded boat we claim
Convinces Jesus of his death.
With skimming stones contained within
The wont of ghosts, Medusa sprays
Venom where the fumes of life
Glut the sickness of the void
And ancient daemons ride the bays
Wherein a coat of needles raves
Against the caverns of the dazed
Killed. The ancient prow of
This ship of death leads girls
To address death's future woman.
Being laden with its gulls,
The spirit of the Florentine
Crazes rage with disembodied
Tears. Niobe lives inside
Pure fire. The dogs of time
Rape the faces of the spurned
Dragons of this spatial place
Whence madness seizes fuel.
The fields of softness spark
Embers from the flames of
Decrial. Words dissemble fear
To find the ark of sex
Smashed. I give to hell my
Sensual voyage. Romance rides
The writhing spectres of man's
Sensuality. The teeth of crime
Lie rotted where death's empery
Smites the muses of the tamed.

Drive swiftly and set loose
The hungers of the killed.
I am the man your father was.
Move quickly while the scattered
Stones of the rubbished smatter
The walking ways of the torn.
We can't progress to seek the tides
Of mutant seas. The makers of
This raped terrain are indolent.
The Minotaur of romance speaks.
We must be wary of our guides.
The Duke of Athens deals his blow
Up in the world. Beast, take away
The sacred bull of woman's speech
Or else inform the new-born child
Of mutancy. The infamy of Crete
Conceives within a false crow's shell
The broken foetus of the dawn.
We must break loose from the insane
Or else the chasms of the speyed
Will denote ravines in their spoils.

O hell is filled with vermin.


The alp-like place we choose to climb
Denudes the steep bank of death's hill.
Because of what we were, there is
No living side to hell. The peak
Of hell forms passages to loss.
Conceived inside, we rage without
The blasted chasms of the starved.
A bull breaks loose and takes away
The guides we honoured when live.
Up in life's world, the murdered
Tribes of the living treat
The deathblow of life's aftermath.

With heaven's weightedness enclosed
Inside our thoughts, the masters of
Denial bridge the deadened veins
Of thought and the ruined trials
Of covetousness entertain
Centaurs. In the furnace of
Hell's hillside, we are driven by
The torments of the living word.
Because our will is nasty, we
Smash with stones the walls of
Grief. I seek a moat of fire.
Enshrouded in the woes of blood,
We keep our eyes above the ground.
Violence hurts us but where life
Is done, the briefness of sex
Hails us from death's distance.
God nudges us and hangs his own.
When singing alleluia, Christ
Companions us with disembowelled
Sense. The challenge of the noosed
Pisses in the wind. Troops slant
Against the challenge of their
Slantedness. When Charon spoke,
He said: "Go back and guide your men
Then turn away and double home."
These words mean nothing.


There is a place in hell renowned
For bodily touches. The member of
This pack is surely a thief.
Bent, the torsoes of death's breeze
Show us where power lives.
Rending his potency from flame,
Nessus rips apart his fire.
The embers of his manhood rains
Embers on the fjords of
The piercing noise of time.
And in time, the music of
The strange offends the boughs of
Hell. Alone, the vision of
Clocks that spin against time
Will trip with their heirs.
Let me show you now where
The larceny of living reigns
As if a king. This king spins
Around the clocking tides
Of death. And Charon speaks:
"Go back and guide your men
And then return home."
These words meant nothing.

With hell's justice in God's hands,
The scourge of living earth must
Turn dark. The wayfare of the dead
Must tear the boiling moil of man
Away from his fair skin. The drawn
Curtains of the moon milks life
Away from pissing teats. The dull
Heartbeat of the snared defeats
The lost. The blood inside brains
Will cross with killing fields
And the canters of life's horse
Drag the saved deep down where
The tares of fusion drive
The Kelpie from life's bearth.

We goad Attila and Pyrrhus.
The warfare of the public drinks
Pure blood from rectal stains.
Charon speaks and aimless tales
Storm the teeth and tongue of
Sextus. Carmine bleeding shells
Nuts from the blasted bones
Of sanity. Tears, unlocked from
Love's sinking stream, dive
Days deep into the ferine pool
Of listless lives. The clawed
Feet of the ghastly splash
Sea-water where there is no sea.
These words stink of rot.

Hell is filled with prisons.


Come somehow from the peoples abroad,
Our guide believes that awareness is
Heard on every side. Bewildered, I
Hear voices wail. The heat of hell
Breaks off at the wrist the shrouded
Plants of the grave. I reached my hand
Into the forge of the murdered and
Became panoptic. The masters of
Despiction danced where passion waned.
The incredible sound of space
Struck from the thoughts the grove
Of killings. Up front, the twirled
Knives of the violated stabbed
Skin from the flesh of the void.
Nessus had not reached the side
Of space. The leaves of planets rolled
Paths of green in blue-black tint.
The souls of serpents spurted spit
And moaned. Compelled, I chose to
Blood as one the colognes of
The mad. The keys to hell's descent
Enticed me with possessions.
Mindlessly, we clambered forth
From mountains. In the vice of court,
Justice broke apart the very
Ligatures of sense. The sexed
Burdens of the plants we found
Inside the foetal ground
Tore whores from out the lids
Of Caesar's eyes. Sense, inflamed,
Drove fatalities from out
Life's glories. Both sleep and life
Turn inside their ether. Harlots never
Kept secrets. Locked inside pain,
Silence drives the engines of the mind
And tyres burn inside flame.

Inside the mouth, the teeth of crime
Enlarge the spirit of the chewed.
Bent, the torso of mad Nessus drives
The heirs of God. Sextus meets
His troops whereby the turning feud
Of silence strips away
The companions of hell's spies.
When Charon spoke, the zephyrs of
The burned defined the route
By which glib phantoms fly from
The missions of the earth
And Charon says: "Fly from the air."
But air must live above
The magnates of hell. Companioned by
Nessus, man denudes his red flesh
To find the spirits of the quelled
Packed inside a bag of larceny.
The Power of hell defines the feared
Word of love. The troops of mankind
Steal away the earnings of the stayed.
Charon speaks and says: "Go back and
Glide into your homes." Words drown
In mutedness. Bound in knots, sense
Imprisons light in nooses ripped
Apart where the necks of hanged
Humanity delves the drowned
Lakes of infirmity. This dark spot
Whereby the sparks of woman blend
Her saps with healing overturn
The utterance of a sigh and men
Yield the wild saplings of
Defiance. Harpies, feeding on
The foliage of sadness, pave
Pain with passion. Inside death,
Exhaltation shouts against the sky.

We too shall come to rest, each one of us
Intending life to kill. The space above
The spatial will tend our living lives
With lies. Hell has a furnace which
Constrains our living nighttimes with
The storms of death's climb. We are
Not defined by sleeping. Woman sounds
The muses of her birth. We must deride
The night or else go blind.


We cannot speak or else go blind.
Pyrrhus weeps and men find
Infernos sweeping from the bed
Of time. The madness of time
Must enshroud hell with dead
Spectres. Sextus storms the tomb
Of love. The graveyard of death
Blackens heaven with the swoon
Of life. Fled lightning beats rolled
Tides. The seas of fission snare
The eyes of Christ. Lord Jesus lies
Buried in his own head.
Deadened, passion writes the words
Of fear. Bad verses glean the spires
Of prayer. The hymnals of the raped
Define the muteness of the maimed.
The epicentre of hell's flares
Meets the swiftness of the speared.
Man is mated by his knifed
Veins. Glad woman looses shame.
The world is carefully refined
By murder, sealed over.

Charon says: "Revoke your kids
Or else dictate a route home."
His words have no true form.

The centre of the fires of hell
Pokes death's clit from out the
Foreskin of the stars. Time
Traps the limbs of death in
The pox of crime. The criminal
Shape of law dilates the
Pupils of the skies. The dried
Muses of death's eyes drain
Mud from out the stained
Rills of heaven. Ramshorns snarl
And the fish inside the coils
Of brooks define the curled
Ashes of spurned heaven.

Cold Hades freezes over.


We get soft treatment from the west.
Pushed down in turn, we suffer Christ.
The lawless shepherds of the Word
Cover us. The treasuries of birds
Flap deaf wings. Our speeches must
Seem intense but die all of the time.
Forbidden, the hapless trances of
Truth forfend the long sleeps of
The staved. We get soft treatment from
The King of France. The boldness of
Saint Peter flounces with our
Disproved flesh. The vehemence of
Our guardians implodes our dreams.
Opposing palsies, mindlessness
Imagines us and burns to grey
The blackness heaven's godlessness
Decides. The judgment hell decrees
Rears its head. Man raises death
From out the earth. Hades defines
The chill of molten hell. Bacchus
Wades into love's stream and
Drowns humanity in wine.

The seer who charged the earth with
Maleness mans the motors of
Hades with the petrols of
The fuelled. Resuming bodies from
The pools that settle in the streams
Of Christ, the hellbound bells
Of flesh let cry their tocsins.
We roam hell's world as if
Deified by funerals. The thrilled
Raze with fires the yearning
Tribes of bleeding humans staved
Above the colour blue. Thieves
Rape Thebes. The soldiered coals
Of mastered killings roll
Inside the pulsing fold
Of heartlessness. The scribes
Of France enchain the arms
Of fierceness. Sextus rides
The peoples of the screwed.

Above us they appeared - the men
Who hurtle with the moon. Sex
Smashed from death's hearthside
The kingdom of the slain.
And our eyes are bedazzled
By eternity. The woven straw
Of fearfulness lies heavy
Upon our guts. The stars
Crash against the shrouded
Clouds. O hell's spent mind
Cuts infinity's sheared
Spirit. We are then pursued
By Providence. O, when shall
The coursing sluice of time
Paint us with the juices of


Hurtling along with death upon its tits,
The slogan of the dead draws near
The keepers of life's filth. The crest
Of madness draws this spent mind close
To splitedness. Too heavy, man compares
With monks who wear their cowls enclosed
Around eternity. This eyeless face
Transgresses darkness to reveal loathed
Companions to the flies of ruled times.
The dissembling clutches of lust's coast
Transcend the wickedness of man.
The capes inflicted by death's child
Will drape across the litheness of
God's eyes. Infamity proclaims killed

Guns, bombs, gas, knives
Impeach the laughing sprays of
The dead. The arches of life's cries
Create the coda of death's song
And eyes inflame the croft shift
Of workmen digging in the
Sands of the splendid maimed.
The Kings of France entertain
Men who drug their beers with
Sex. Simoniacs campaign
After sex.


Weeping, with looks of defeat,
The cloakrooms of the killed peer
Deep into the rivers of the beat.
On the inside, the dazzling eyes
Of fusion snap away the cries
Of owls. Magpies perch upon bones
And the fowls of winter constrain
Infinity. As ever, we are viewed
By companies that slap against blue
Emeralds. The Tuscan speeches of
Swift speaking crack apart the
Stars of the killed. Waters of vile
Compatriots curate a bent vale
And the witches of the hunted thrill
With punishment. Upon the bottoms of
The spent, the cautious spires of
The Tuscan spurt the sperms of
The stewed. Hippocrisy
Gyrates against the screwed
Blackness of the spewed
Seizures of death's veins.

Snakes - frightening swarms - must lead
Into deeds, not words. Snakes lie
Commended by their magic chill inside
The confines of serpents. Death breeds
Heliotropic safety. Thrust between
Night's horde, Medusa rapes away faith.
Where legs entwine, the tail and head
Of reptiles boast no more about scales.

These hands of time lie intertwined with
Malignancy. The nude and terrified
Contend the running figure of a man
Too raw to stand. This thrusting erse
Seems numerous. The density of tanned
Hides directs brute sex against fear.
Without a hope of hiding nor a chance
Of dancing, nakedness defines the span
Of life. These hands are tied to
The legs that meet behind the backs
Of twining salience. Petitions call
For deeds, not words. The book of Thess
Confines the hopes of madness with
Insured selfishness. The mouth of Hell
Speaks of death as if constrained in
The chewing lips of the slain.

Actual words - from the new and old -
Maim the poetry of snapping teeth.
Our hands seem manacled. The headmost
Words of fury rape away the East.
Intwining head and tail, the croft birds
Of silence say words which
Impeach denial. Our leaders ask shade
To impose God or else the burned
Plight of hell inflames the sins of
Dissembling fear. The shone stone
Of blood and rage is skimmed where
Lakes do not provide the waves of
Bloods spilled.


To be born again every hundred years:
During this life, we gather grain
And rise from out the fields. I deny
That God is cruel. A sinner must
Rant and rave or else delve
Devilry. Medusa seeks her horde
And the storms of madness will collide
With tongues of venom. Life shone
And now the palour of disdainful lies
Must parry nerves and dance inside
The grievous smiles of woman. Spies
Storm the secrecies of humankind.
And I have told you to bear grief
From out this earth. When we break
Through, please tear the thick clouds
From off the moon. Tears enshroud
The open eyes of passion. Tides drill
Whiteness into cumulus. Grief
Seems stormy, bitter, petulant with
War. The fugues of Israel comprehend
No end to murder. Where Mars draws
A vapor from the lightning of the sun,
Florence blasts away the ashen bays
Of time. The incinerations of
All circles of hell create a wall
Wherein the demons of death
Squirm as if worms. A lake of spit
Defrauds defiance of its red cloak.
Incinerated, human living winds
Down. A dragon with spread wings
Burns away the signum of raped
Infants. In the meadows of killed
Soldiers, sadness rifles the stirred
Rills of the cannibalised. The aped
Rising of the cropped entertains
This lake of blood named 'Birth'.
Life's path lies blocked but chained
To screaming. Sinners wake to find
A swamp of sleeping ramming at the eyes
Of death. The word of dying peers
From out the sedges of the sniped
Lake of death. The bitterness of lithe
Spirits bears humanity from
Its wabe. The stripping female figures of
The spended stars curate church.
Burned, the Theban wall of christ
Dabs its fingers in blood.


If I had harsh berating rhymes to
Fit inside the soul of womankind,
All rocks would converge and thrust
Sex at the evening sky
And then I could completely describe
The bottom of the universe -
Not a task suited to the tongue
That whines Mum and Dad. May
The muses of my madness help verse
As when it helped my mind die.
O horde, beyond all others ill-got,
Who dwell in this hot place too
Hard to speak of: better you
Are born of sheep or else death
Shall lay you. As the toads lie
Snouted in their pools, may I
Glean the noise of ugliness from
The gleam of shame. Or else might
Teeth chatter in the stork's beak.

Each of us hold our faces turned
Down; they testified to cold tongues.
After a time, the misery of looks
Bore eyes which interknitted with
Dead heaven. Death issued from
All bodies."O you whose breasts
Are crushed together," I said
"Who are you but woman bent back?"

A peasant woman often has dreams.
Turned purple with shame, cheeks
Lock together with their glow.
These eyes bore deep. After time
Has glanced away heat, bright ice
Harnesses cold with hell's wade.
Tightly intertwined, the feats
Of man corrupt the strokes of
The ghastly. Frozen in punishment,
Freezing passion shakes the seas
Of deadened lives. My name is Love.

This crime committed against you is
Repaid by death and dying. Pray,
And let the glibness of your lives
Forgive mankind. Although I'm dead,
Accept the vengeance death may reap.

As on earth, so in hell.


"And see if you can make it."
As though from dark indeed, the voice
Of Charon smashed apart the verve
Of distant man. This party I knew
Had journeyed down to where shades
Blew from burning stones the laid
Girls of the night. I heard them
Laying waste to urine with their
Lips. Their caves appeared closed.
I neither died nor stayed alive.
The wetness of death's woman
Dripped from walls of fear and
In its place, stagnation danced.
Shadows killed the place where
Plato stood. Sextus swiped my sex.

I neither died nor stayed alive - time
Reproved me with its wits - denuded,
Life and death became as one and sent
Its emperor to seal my grieving mind.
From out a giant's height, this world
Grew closer and thence surrounding
Space enshrouded me in visual nerves.

Strong with pride, befitting heaven's
Dying day, the head of hell implied
A night of silence. The teeth inside
My jaw were wrenched from out my
Brain. "This soul," my master said
"Is born to suffer." Thence awake,
I saw the skin upon my back defy
Its cleanliness. The day I rose,
I saw psoriasis constrain me
In schizophrenic cages. Time brought
A sickly therapy into my throat.
The words I wrote were voiced with
Stupidity. The machinated skull
Of sensual sensitivism overrode
My need to piss. I ate shit raw.


Envision the whole of man and
Find his size proportionate with
Hell. Or else define the fled skies.
In this pluperfect fire, the sum
Total of man must appear small.
The fragments of mankind are
Burned to dour ashes. Sense shapes
Man from out his dying parts and
Offends his death by seeming scarred
By flame. The scorching signum of
Men is bent by searing. Heaven lays
Waste to the sound that signals gloom.
Man must burn his favour and thence
Fire becomes too wicked to consume.
The swiftness of man's burning lays
Glamour on the line and thence heat
Cracks the riven surface of woman.
Man without woman is too cold.
Hell compounds mankind with his girl.
Fires derive from sin their truth.

We stood in hell for hours and hours.
Fear disclaimed us yet we stood
Dissembling love with our fears.
Manitous strode above us and
We drank our fill from hell.
Little men rode from out the dark.
Chiron sailed. The lightning of
Death chained us to our dreams.
Telephones disturbed the dark.
Panoptic saviours slammed sound
In the place of true vision.
Thence Calcabrina screamed aloud.
Her trip worked and we flew
Against the flight of fury.
The heat beneath out feet leased
Narcissus with his looking-glass
A lingering glance at God.
Engorged with humours, burnt
Desolation razed the looks of
The ideal sinner. Pausing, heat
Mouthed away the singing plight
Of Mamma and Dadda. The muses of
Amphion walled Thebes and shall
Press their juice against me.


After a swift run, fathers and sons
Seemed torn apart. I woke before dawn.
O, my children, who went with me when
Whimpering during sleep was not fraught?
O, when shall sleep refine my soul?

Inside me when I turned to stone,
Apprehensively, I scorned my home.
O you hard earth, why didn't you
Plead for calm. Ah, mad hell,
When shall the face of creativity
Rise from hell. Oh, Pisa! You
Shame the students of your fair
Land. Slow as your steeled neighbours,
Helpless children teem from the earth.

The cold has sucked all feeling from
My face. I wear a visor and turn
Faces up from out the void. Drunk
But forced back to sanity, thieves
Storm all found ages of mankind.

I thought I lived for hunger's pain
Alone. I bit my hands for grief.
Then I saw the silence of
My world reform as grievous clay.

O you hard earth, why didn't you
Open up for mankind's gang.
When we have reached the day
When woman suckles feeling with
The callus of the numb,
Then men shall depose the mad
And softness rise above them
And youthful songs devise
For innocence. I do not cry.

The fame of having chosen death
In the place of life storms
The swarming streets of time
And routed senselessness
Pierces the lids of lithe
Woman. O you hard earth,
Why didn't you open when
Ferine femaleness was sworn
To open?

Clothed in this wretched flesh,
We plead for you to be as one
For we have stayed alone.

I neither died nor kept alive -
Consider with your own wits when
I became leader.


And death goes down the Dominion.
Mother-naked, strapped at tongue,
Guns, bombs, gas, knives
Entertain the horde with fear.
"That soul", my master said, "Suffers."
Judas, head locked inside
Christ's fled mind, defined the
Flailing legs of the little men
Who spewed from every corner
Of love's bedrooms. In the lounge,
Luxuriant strangers strode
All four walls. Livid, lives met
The quietus of the drowned and
The knave of heaven spoke once more
About the flickering light of

We rush upward to a cavity:
The hollow where we stand lies
Below the mists of charity.
Veiled inside its seas, the killed
Rise. Beneath the hemisphere that
Canopies the murdered, sense
Smothers God's face with fear.
Belzebub lies wailing in
The tides of entombed life.
Some of the pretty things God
Has borne for us smash apart.
We climb from out the blue and
Dig inside the dirt for truth.

Well-worn, we ascend from the wynd
Of time. The shining world above us
Has guidance. I went into time
And found the space inside my head
Developed. Apertures of time
Delve the mind of man. The shone
Lanterns of time dwell within
The sleeping mind. Time involves
Dreams and a mind devoid of pain.
The mind in the back of this head
Travels when asleep. Man knows
That his mind is intune with
The incubation of his dreams.
Time is a nightmare used by
The rear of one's head. Eyes
Drink from the rear-end of
One's mind. Rest defines the
Route of the path time climbs.
The cat on the mat you own
Indulges quests after time
And time is ferinely owned
By sleep. The back of time
Dwells in the black of night.
The rear of my head shapes
Time from sleep. O, world
Seek the apertures of time
Or else lie drowned.'


Copyright JDB 2004