Anxag0n1st's avatar
Danni
14 Watchers6.8K Page Views88 Deviations
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Neothism
We may no longer be cave-dwellers But still embellishers, tale-tellers About Gods on high What's above the sky Beyond death, before breath And how and why. The old sins and virtues that we once preached Were just one way to teach us how to live out our lives. But now we know the world is X wide and Y high And those bloodthirsty, feudal ways That got us through the famines and plagues (made them feel controlled, explained) Have to be pushed aside. Those old excuses for conflict are dead and gone We know our days are numbered and we have to get along. Still, those empty superstitions whose purposes have been long since served Ar
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Snowblind
Does the white light of your delight Not frighten you, Well it frightens me. You didn’t get here through desperation Or poverty, Or even curiosity, Just vanity and greed. And you’ve grown yourself a hunger That you really do not need. Not that I’m unimpressed By your ability to spend, But I’m wondering where it will all end. And do you really understand About the jungles that are felled And the lost souls who are killed In the service of, or to make way for, The industry of your pleasure, That you've bought into at your leisure. But when you’ve spent all your dough And you’ve nothing for it to
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E
Embrace
Eyes for the whole world, Your mother’s every fear She sighs And holds you near Would hold you closer if she could. But you struggle as these reins embrace your burgeoning zeal Blank canvas, clean slate, yearning for experience's seal Stretch for the out-of-sight and out-of-reach, Pioneering ever outwards like spilt milk. When the fence between mischief and malevolence is breached Quickly forgiven is this face of spun-silk. Relentless years advance and bombard your eager eyes with experience, hardening the shell And crossing it with lines. Until you first smell your own sweat, First puncture the skin, First taste your own
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B
Bless this...
This empty shell of memories that sheltered our growing pains Needed scraping clean of history’s remains. So we’re digging through belongings Mining for moments passed Through fashion’s faded passions And pastimes that didn’t last. Through old hats, old shoes, old news Old 45s of jives and Blues, Old games, old picture frames Faded photos of old flames. School reports, so well hid. “Must try harder” Never did. Scalextrix, Hornby, Spirographs Cluedo, Ludo chess and drafts. Mix tapes, aged videos and in-between Rolls of cine-film and a crooked screen. The dusty projector rickaticks Like a card in t
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D
Decaying imperfections
Blood is not red This is red. No organic decay, this is how it remains Like those passions underfed Like those words left unsaid The earth is not a sphere This is a sphere Formed by the fire in Earth’s belly Surface coarse, pitted, rough and ready. But geometrically, Perfect. So you think you know perfection? It’s not a place you’ve been to Not a problem you’ve ever seen to. In the centre of the room is all our evaporated sweat All our aspirated words said in spite or said in jest Or in protest. Even golden words can be valueless, These bitter pills of dislocated meaning. Isolated, gleaming Each solidif
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R
Ripples - for Tapani
They say death is the last taboo, And it’s funny how these things ripple through, But the loss of innocence is universal And death always comes too young. And when the tragedy is unexpected All that sadness is reflected Leaving everyone your life ever touched feeling stung. And though I know close friends and family must feel twice my pain (and then some), I can’t help but wonder why all my hopes now seem so distant. But it’s death itself that shocks me, Leaves me angered and frustrated and makes all statistics human, If only for an instant. Aftershocked and reeling, I’m disgusted by the feeling that I need t
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T
The Eternal Light
That tune That velvet kiss that ricochets around the room. Is it Our Tune? Or just that moment in that place. That rise, That fall Rhythm rides. That stacatto skips across the sound. The heartbeat that stops breath And I swear could make shattered glass wait Before it hits the ground That rhythm, that progression My essence, my being. Rises and falls And a reminder I am human from some primal belly calls For our purpose the world was created Yet we are but dust and ashes That Hakka, that ballet That language that crosses divides Unites us like no other. The heartbeat in the womb. The whispers of the mother. And for just
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NoSpace
In a grey, corporate world, there’s a hint of a heart International like-thinkers nanoseconds apart A billion stars in a billion shows News spreads like a bush-fire Creativity glows. I could learn so much, I could move so fast But my best intentions never last. Tell me again how you’ve nothing to say Make vital news out of your minutiae I should turn my disgusted attention away But I turn on to receive in the conventional way. I get radiation withdrawal if I venture offline Nothing is questioned, there just isn’t the time For the subtle nuances of heated debate, Pre-agreed emoticons serve my thoughts on a plate.
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U
Un-chic in Paris
There's the click-clack Of the well-turned heels On the Champs-Elysee. There's the mwah-mwah! Of the mademoiselles In the bijou cafe There's the Ooh, La la! Of the Moulin Rouge And the Maison de lingerie And then there's me Un-chic In Paris. There's the click-click Of my camera, which with my notebook, is my sole company Freezing my arse off At Cemetrie Pierre Lachaise And struggling to order a cup of tea. Unimpressed by the museums And dreaming of London, Where at least they're all free. Broke, Alone and un-chic In Paris. I traverse the whole city Yet stumble over words Scale fairytale Montmartre And share my lun
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G
Goodbye Bettie Page
Goodbye Bettie Page. Your mother never put you on the stage But you inspired a generation to lie about their age, Dye their hair the shade of coal And rattle the doldrum's cage. Pinned to the GI's bed For when he's homesick or enraged. Painted on the tailspin That will pull him to his grave. Goodbye Bettie Page. You hid away in your autumn years So we'd never see you age. Your stocking-tops have left us But your legend will never fade.
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See all
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Neothism
We may no longer be cave-dwellers But still embellishers, tale-tellers About Gods on high What's above the sky Beyond death, before breath And how and why. The old sins and virtues that we once preached Were just one way to teach us how to live out our lives. But now we know the world is X wide and Y high And those bloodthirsty, feudal ways That got us through the famines and plagues (made them feel controlled, explained) Have to be pushed aside. Those old excuses for conflict are dead and gone We know our days are numbered and we have to get along. Still, those empty superstitions whose purposes have been long since served Ar
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I
I still think of you sometimes
Woke up with your name on my lips again. Woke up with your face on my mind. How I underestimated the extent Of the dreams I left behind. I still think of you sometimes Is it killing me? Is it killing me? I still see you there sometimes, Lying so close to me, How it could never be. Tried to feel something new today Tried to remember what it was like. But it burnt so fast and faded away, When I saw you shine so bright. I still think of you sometimes Remember fidelity? And tranquility? I still think of you sometimes Is it killing me? Is it killing me?
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A
Afraid of the dark
I see the cocaine underdogs Who wander through the city smogs I squint to see through the small hours. They wander to their wives at home, Dance together, crawl alone. Blundering blindly into flowers. I can't see you but I smell your face Lost and lonely in this place. Rescue me from my disgrace, I don't want to be afraid of the dark. Paranoia creeps through my veins, Eyeballs burned by vision stains. New fears take me by surprise. Please help me escape from here, Help me battle each new fear And cleanse my God-damned eyes. Candy dreams of your caress Won't save me from this mess. Rescue me from my distress. I don't want to
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O
Over
It was great, but it's over, What else can I say? I hope there's no hard feelings And you can just go on your way. But excuse me if I shed a tear, It's not that I still care. Just sometimes when I close my eyes I think that you're still there. It was great, but it's over. There's nothing left to do, Except to say I'm ready for this, I hope you're ready too. Because all the time who were we kidding, When we thought it was all fine? Now just memories to treasure, And no more wasted time. So excuse me if I shed a tear As I hear you say: "It was great, but it's over. I won't forget you, but it's over. I loved you, but it's ove
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Precious fragility of it all
Broken wisdom on the edges of extinction. Shattered feelings on the precipice of hope. All the time that you laid bleeding I cried on the sores of our friction, How you transcended it all I'll never know. I can't grab these precious moments even knowing they're nearly over, I can't focus through the euphoria of the fake. Never was worthy of living in your shadow, Still not worthy of living in your wake. Still my selfish, empty tears won't change a thing, Not now I realise how fragile it all is.
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Dreaming of immunity -excerpt
   There came a time, of course, when nylon blonde robot Katrin knelt before her lover and his slave with life-preserving nectar, and their eyes soon focussed again, seeing their rescuer with gratitude and mercy. Troy was the first to wake and mistakenly rubbed his eyes until he was aware of the pain that it produced. Xenon touched Katrin's face with the very tips of his fingers and brought her closer to him. He kissed her, softly at first, and then with the passion of a man who had seen death and, for now at least, had escaped its grasp. "Wow!" Sighed Troy at last, "that was close. Do you guys want some speed?"   And they danced for hours
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Where dreamers go to die -Ch1
Where dreamers go to die.  Looking for a life amongst the flow and ebb and flow and ebb between someone else's cashmere daydreams in window booths and magazines. Nights spent sleeping doggy style, twitching and yelping amongst nightmares of violence. Entombed by the hollow noise of pretty boys and paper thin and clearer skin diet plan beauties I concuss myself to bring about the silence.  In conception somewhere a wet dream dredged from the depths of human depravity. The fingers of a man fumble over the body of an imitation woman. Exactly how every man would like her to be of proportion and complexion. Better than The Real Thing. Limitati
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Where dreamers go to die -ch2
Fear alone is my enemy, evaded, if not beaten, for now as the intoxication of my curiosity accelerates me far beyond it. As we land on the island of Fortuna™ and spill into the maze-like malls of the Athena complex, a reminder of the rules tells that this is a land of uncharted pleasures and dangers. The vital sociability beaten out of me long ago will need to be rediscovered if I want to survive. If. The visibly pounding complex gradually fills with the travel-weary. Semiconscious and awe-struck, hundreds of us gaze around weakly, walking through the music which oozes from the building's every pore. The floor is tiled with mirrors, light
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F
Forever in my heart -pt1
Those who make the mistake of coming to London with a little of their humanity still intact soon learn that beneath the gleam and the glitter lies a cracked and dirty city which flakes and stinks like a decaying corpse. The vulnerable form allegiances indefinite, indelible, intoxicating and live within the pockets and the souls of others, dodging the ever-present threat of the burns of severance. Today is the battle against tomorrow's enemy when yesterday may never have existed and whose memory is weaker than that of a dream. This is the story for those who dare to jump into the fires of love, with all its dangers. A person is never so na
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Lose My Words
You are my literal loss of words: death in the throat at the spark of flesh, at the bare brown of both  our    eyes I speak in-inhalation, All skin-scent-sin-simple-sensual you turn me from  flame to   moth Fluttering unspoken things And laying them at your feet.
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London Stretch
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Spotlight

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Requiem
I eat beyond hunger, Drink beyond thirst. My cup overflows And it grows ‘till it bursts. Freedom to speak, freedom to touch. Speak your mind, No time Take sides, Take too much. Doomed generation, got to have it all Never go offline, Never miss a call. My grail bubbles over with my growing needs, Paying off my impotence My greased palm bleeds. Virgin soils Flood and spoil, Hands grow dirty with blood and oil. Possession, corruption, Sedation, destruction. Put it on your wishlist, Spoil it in a day, Tear it off in disgust And throw it away. Build the instruments of degradation, Climb high and piss over all creation
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United Kingdom
Deviant for 14 years
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Back! (or 'Why 2011 is going to kick ass!amp
January: a time for reflection, resolutions, and rebirth. All three, I've managed so far, and the list of what-will-be just keeps getting longer. Shorter term, there's a new Kapow on the horizon: The Cabaret Special dontcha know on the 18th Feb. Also there are oodles of performances booked and pencilled in as "Maybe" I just have to make a few decisions and commitments. Talking of decisions (and commitment, or lack of it...) a new home and personal life is also just around the corner, just a few loose ends to tie up. Leipzig, Edinburgh, Latitude? (most likely as a punter). I can't help but feel elated and excited at the moment, the k
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April 2010
Poetry Kapow 9 - The Slam Of Sins, was well attended and apparently well received. There will be photos available soon, as it all looked gorgeous too (of course) and we had plenty of photographers in attendance. Oh, and there was loads of great poetry too! So, sins aside, I've finally put the 3rd mini collection together, "Emotion : Memory" now available from myself for a single Earth pound. It's the nice and friendly stuff. The angrier, performance stuff is currently about to fill collection no4, "Empty Threats" which is also most likely to be the title of the properly self-published collection, for which I should have raised some cash for
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2010 begins!!!
2009 was a great year for poetry performance, so the challenge to top it is definitely on! November's Kapow happened and it was awesome. My write up at http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/poetview.php?poetID=1059#lastblogentry although that is briefer than it deserved. We have a date for another in April, and wow is it going to rock some socks! Before then was my featured slot at the thoroughly lovely Bang Said The Gun, all ten mins of it captured at http://www.youtube.com/user/bangsaidtheguntevee#p/u/34/bV0hm0Kcv9E. After that... December was a little slow because I'm lazy and it started snowing and stuff, and I'm sure New Year's Eve was f
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Comments22

anonymous's avatar
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Kracked-Aktor's avatar
Cheers! Thanks for the watch :)
apopalypticchaos's avatar
i am back!!
again. lol.
its been a LONG time, mostly because i forgot my password and never thought that i would be able to change it. duh.
i am so excited though because a friend and i am visiting england in july/aug!! and amsterdam!
i know you said in 06 that you have moved back home so let me know if you are gonna be in london at all around then!
HUGS
jess*
Anxag0n1st's avatar
Anxag0n1st Writer
Hey Jess, welcome back I guess!

I'm not far from London and go out there more than I did in 2005! seem to spend my life at Slimelight and at gigs.

keep in touch!
apopalypticchaos's avatar
YAY!
i am so excited because this time i get to bring one of my best buds with me!! we're hammering out all the details so i can let you know exactly when pretty soon!
Anxag0n1st's avatar
Anxag0n1st Writer
word up bro... I'll update me site at some point.
*waves then swears atcha*
CalliopesLilly's avatar
thank you for the faaaaaaave
:heart:

you rock