sweatin’ like a whore in church

O, Rahab
bitch of Jericho
you’re an audio pickup
(Hear the sound of church bells in the background)

with beaming eyes
for some yokels from the Le Roncole play das Triumphmarsch
for her Venus mound
sweatin’ like a whore in church.

Her fingers are calloused from jewelry
their fingers are stripped of jewelery
sunk deep into Rahab’s vacuum,
descending to fill in her gap

a rasées bitch
a woman, a sinner, a saint, a church
Eva, the mother of all men

O, Rahab!
indeed you are born
under the walls of Sodom where your litter were kissing
while the sulfur was slightly splashing an undulating, wavy sea.

In the Promised Land.

horror, poetry, proza

Master and Servant, Leila Samarrai

“For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath.”, Matthew 13:13

Strange and for me, shameful, hypocritical, let’s say, paradoxical  Bible quote, but what else to be expected from the tax collector. This should be a motto of every bank in the world… written in bold letters, to bath the counter desk with the sacred meaning.. 

Matthew,You, Master, with prostitute blessing,
look at ME!
If I pay Caesar what belongs to him and to God his due,
What is left for me?
How do I pay next time?
You place your head on holy ground…look up!
Are you the One who blesses only the rich?
Are we not blown in the same winds?

No! No.
Go to church brave Esther
To esteemed pillars of Jerusalem
Plunge your sword in alchemy of truth and lies
Are you hungry enough to think you’ve fallen?
Did they make you believe you are so low?
Your deeds glorify thy righteousness
How ridiculous to be well read and hungry!
Let their empty hearts speak, spill gold
Believe in me, when empty hearts speak
When your eyes are gouged out, believe in me
Forgive those who do not have–
And reconcile the human injustice.

Oh Matthew, still, you hide.


poetry, proza

The Spark Of Life, unedited

I had too much tragedy in my life, that I was, unfortunately, used to being abandoned and betrayed by people who have no business abandoning me and betraying me, and that I  have also trusted people who have let me down.  Also I’ve developed friendships with people who have taken advantage of my kindness. I have been used and abused but I still continue to show my strength and my spark for life.


I reached out for the moon
with a hand that caressed brightness
I reached out for a rose
with a hand that caressed thorns
And I blessed Brutus and Judas
I kissed their wickedness
my hands were slain,
and their knives were laughing
And I let my blood to flow
into river no one has ever seen
where I was drowning myself, my tears, better to say…
with them I efflorescented my ordinary sorrows

My betrayers have escaped
and their scoundrels went off
They slipped out of blood with deft of guileful

The moon is darkened
the moon is darkened
with the treacherous skill
while they guarded their misdeed

I tore off a rose petal
the other
and the third
all their green youth

I picked up…

The first blackguard
the second
then the third

I became Mars
I became iron
I became stone

with myself
I branded wretches
villains, hypocrites and scoundrels
with myself
I kissed an evil ones
and hugged all the wiles
and toads, and idolaters

My heart goes out to innocent blood
My heart goes out to tender hearts
My heart goes out to spark of life