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[pleasurewizard]

[pleasurewizard]

I saw the end of the world

[pleasurewizard]

American Dreamscape

[pleasurewizard]

It’s always something about these nights

A fire neath a naked canopy

Laughter and conversations I don’t know how to entertain

Shots of liquor and the tired eyes that follow

The camaraderie that leaves me hollow,

The familiar drive home, listening to music alone

To dream of past loves

While my body reverberates like a church.

Something about the smell of stale smoke on my clothes

Remembering our first kiss

Hands clasped and you mouthing the word “don’t”.

I wonder if they could love me now?

Who I am becoming,

Or are these just echoes of the person

That you used to know?

Drowning in the four white walls,

silent from morning

Til darkness falls.

[pleasurewizard]

Warmth

[pleasurewizard]

Evolution

[pleasurewizard]

American Gothic

[pleasurewizard]

Memories of you

Scar the warmth of spring,

Every breeze congeals

With moguls of harrowed flesh.

The fluttering of love

Turned adversary,

Pin pricks burrowing

Deeper under broken skin.

The morning darkness

Hangs heavy as a pall,

Silent mouthed evening

Brings emptiness to my halls.

[pleasurewizard]

The stream of spiritual awareness, limitless, shining,

issuing forth from the ocean of cosmic intelligence,

comes onward with a tempestuous roar.

[pleasurewizard]

Gnostic Jesus was pretty baller.

[pleasurewizard]

HAYEZ, Francesco The Kiss 1859 Oil on canvas, 112 x 88 cm Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan

[pleasurewizard]

Your name is a sin

I breathe, like oxygen

Caught in the careless

Arms, of lust again

[pleasurewizard]

“The mutual attraction of related objects”

[pleasurewizard]

My new album is out. Give it a listen. ‘I AM A MANY EYED THING’ available wherever you get music!

[pleasurewizard]

Sometimes I miss depression

Not the sadness

Not the nothingness of it

But the way survival wore a target on its back

The way that light at the end of the tunnel

was something to chase.

Catching glimpses of the colors of life

And it’s prismatic echo,

Saying “someday it will have been worth it”.

There is a certain hope

You can only experience in hopelessness.

The kind of hope that makes you talk to god.

The kind of hope that makes you fall in love.

The kind of hope that drags you through the shit

And tells you, keep pushing.

A singleminded focus on just staying alive one more day.

It’s a war, where everything else falls away

And living through its bitter baptism

Becomes the first and last desire;

Becomes a binary decision

Simplifies.

Now I’m blind with possibility,

Deaf to color,

Senseless to life.

The world’s darkness feels foreign

At least my darkness felt familiar.

[pleasurewizard]

I am a dead thing

Made of silent scales

Swaying with creaking boughs

and my legs are long

I am a dead thing

With sunken eyes and flesh too taut

Hollow teeth and violence in my face

I am a dead thing

Spectral as a worn dish rag

Bleached by time and

Full of ancient songs

I am a dead thing