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                             Poems, Poems, Poems
                                   By
                       J o H n   C o N s T a N t I n E

        
        A Cabalistic Question
        ----------------------

        "Who Amongst ye dost worship a vengeful God?"
        "If it is ye then ye be damned for a doG, doG."
        "Reverse thyself and know what thou art truly."


        
        FAITH
        -----

        Nothing Rots forever.
        Already I feel your disease.
        Your fetid breath assaults my senses,
        blowing hypocritical babblings
        of God, of Christ.

        "Our Saviour."
        Yours pal, not mine.

        Chest heaving,
        lost in a sea of pain,
        the dying engine of apocalypse slows,
        periodically stopping,
        dangling relief just out of reach.
        Then mercilessly the demons injects life
        into your wasted soul.

        Four times now,
        just one more left.
        Each time stealing something else,
        a moment, a limb, our happiness, your eyes.
        Saving for last
        your mind.

        They want you to watch... No, 
        to wallow in your own destruction.
        Gladly you oblige,
        calling it "faith in god's will."

         i.e.  S U P P O R T    E U T H A N A S I A !!!!


        The Hermit
        ----------

        The hermit sits reposed
        upon a mountain pinnacle,
        high above
        this sea of storms.

        Within his heart he wields
        a six-rayed star, a lantern,
        overflowing with love,
        shattering the porcelain sky
        as he looks down 
        upon the conquered serpent.

        He is a beacon
        to the weary climbers
        far
        below.


        Dreams
        ------

        Passing moments, fleeting instants
        of clarity.

        Eternal hours of intense fear or....
        undying pleasures.

        Private worlds, endless surrealities.
        Where sultry snow is possible and 
        possibility is limitless.


        Isolation
        ---------

        Alone,
             Because of what i could not.... did not say
             I am sitting in the cold writing
             to my notebook.
        Instead of speaking to you.

        Frigid air
             rather than your warm breath, caresses my cheeks.
             The purple color of frozen flesh
             creeps up my fingertips
             moving towards my heart,
        As I recall the impenetrable fortress.....
                                            that was your smile.


        The Five Senses of A Pariah
        ---------------------------

        Lonliness.
        Alienation.
        Outsideness.
        Staring from afar
        through an infinitly thin glass pane.
        Like a photgrapher
        Who does not participate but only records,
        A copy machine mindlessly spewing forms,
        A satellite in orbit,
        Or a T.V. junky,
        Hearing through stethoscope ears,
        Seeing through telescopic laser beam eyes,
        And feeling,
        Smelling,
        Tasting,
        Nothing
        But what imagination cruelly supplies.

        
        Rat-Man You and Me
        ------------------

        Like a rat 
        in the behaviorist's cage
        he does his duty:
        runs the maze
        mindlessly.

        He presses buttons,
        pulls levers, climbs ladders,
        all in hopes of 
        avoiding an electric shock,
        tasting a bit of food,
        or hearing a pleasant sound.

        You and I are that rat
        although you do not realize it.
        But for you there is no cheese 
        at the mazes end.


        Midnight Duel
        -------------

        In a dream
        I became powerful.

        Drunk on dream-wine,
        I challenged Reality to a duel.

        He arrived at high-moon
        in the guise of a thick newspaper.

        He offered no resistance as my disposable dragon
        withered his dry leaves.

        I woke
        Up.

        Only to hear the morning delivry
        thump against my front door.


        Chain
        -----

        Staring at the smooth surface
        of the jade Buddha,
        A strong urge to string him
        about my heart arises.

        Thinking carefully,
        I realize there is no need.
        He resides already within my heart.


        
        Death-Trip Blackout
        -------------------

        Small needles of ice
        dig deep within my mind,
        injecting liquid indigo,
        blackening my vision.

        Currents of blackness swirl
        like an oil spill within my brain
        causing all processes of thought 
        to come to a grinding halt
        except of course for the one 
        far off,
        the one watching, the one composing
        in terror.

        It calls out 
        screaming 
        for a sort of spiritual pillow
        to take away the pain
        as it too is engulfed in the void.





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and purpose other than your own enjoyment.



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Peace \/
John Constantine

        

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