Oak McIlwain

Sitting alone in a tower with hands in pants; haunting.

God help me release these demons:

Cows grazing in the meadows; hands in pants.
The neighbours dog, cooked in white sauce; hands in pants.

I had sex with my boss last night.
He is giving me a promotion.
The back of my throat doesn’t taste so good though

I have several pet hamsters.
I feed them by hand.
Old flesh.
Handpicked from Clairemont 3am Saturday morning.
A good range to choose from and not many cops around.

I’m a christian on Sundays and an atheist for the rest of the week.
I thrive on road rage, fast food and depraved sexual deviancy.
My true god is a packet of tim-tams,
But I blame them when the weather is bad or I don’t win 1st division lottery.

A knock on the tower door…
Mother?
The ATO?
No, it’s just my balls again. Sneaking out while I’m on the shitter.
Always playing games with me.

She was better in bed than I had predicted.
Swallowed and everything which was great.
But she was just using me to make her boyfriend jealous
It’s ok. Not a bad trade really but I did like her.
My hamsters will too.
I’m sure.

God help me release these demons:

Jethro Tull playing live; hands in pants.
My neighbours wife, cooked in bolognaise sauce; hands in pants.

Sitting alone in a tower; haunting.

So the tears of blood flow
I no longer need to know what you know
And have no need to go where you want to go

Your need to mate is much greater than the truth to create
You give in to fate in the shame of those others, second rate
You are no longer my friend; You know I’d love to pretend

Imagine me flying in eternity!

He is a fool
Over the edge of the mountain walking
And he has his eyes closed and
That massive inward grin on his face

Where is your soul my people?
Where is your soul my friends?

Do you enjoy your cage?
Or do you not even see the bars any more?

You’ve got my company but look at me with no trust
You’ve forgotten what it means to live
Fear is the blanket you sleep under every night
and it remains like a halo as you sip your tea
and the body holds the truth as you continue lying to me

And he grins in spakling coins
And you look on with a reptilian claw reaching out those gleaming eyes
All the while your voice betrays your blatant secrets

All along I thought it was me lacking courage
Then it all comes together and I see that you didn’t have the guts to be honest
And that you just fell meekly into line with the rest of Hitlers men

I just do what I’ve been told
I really don’t want them to come around
Oh no
Oh no. You know who you are.

There is no love here and there is no pain

Creeping through the caves of old.
Searching for a rotting cadaver.
I want AIDS!
Let life kill you.

For millions of years I’ve wandered.
For billions of cult I’ve sod.
There is a darkness in her that’s hungry.
Sexuality.

On the seventh day there was blood.
And on the fourth she knows only sod.

Goat of the living dead!
Goat of the living dead!
Goat of the living dead!
Goat of the living dead!

I fucking thrust death inside you.
Spilling goatshit in troth!
Oh, it’s such a fucking mess.
Lean onto my throat and press.

Supposedly, she would hold a large butchers knife against the throat of the injured animal. Just before she orgasmed, the knife was thrust into the animal’s jugular. The blood would blossom. Once the animal had died, she would dismember the corpse and bury the pieces throughout her property.

Several months later.
The rotten limbs were exhumed.
She fucked the stench.
She.
Oh, shit, she was Goated!

And then, my friend, there was sod!
Goat of the living dead!

————————–
Author: Buntz Doom

Forth: thine must be ushered.
Forth: into the conduct of Gringoid

It is imperative that the knowledge be imparted
Lest cast it away to be lost in the fire of time

Back in times of old
Whence barren women huddled around vulture corpses to feed
Was culted a way hidden from the lay man
The way of the gringoid

Spoiled was the vast land from the great ocean east
to the mountains, curving in a arch from west to north and east

Gone were the times of the banana paddle pop
The Twinkie; much culted, had dwindled in the lives of men

A rod was taken
and given and taken
A rod of sod
was given
Given and then taken
Taken; given taken

One lord of war was a devout follower of the ways
Blood was spilt
Through fear the lord held the sacred ground of sod
but in secret one of his cult deemed his testes foul in content
Years of fetid mcJizmo down a semi moistened passageway held sway
But in this event; the event of eventual dismay

Some say to be wary of Greeks bearing gifts
I say all but the gringoid shall perish

Those: foul women chewing vulture cartilage
Those: men who oppose the rein of sod
Thine: Becometh one with me oh demons, cast aside

A rod was taken
and given and taken
A rod of sod
was given
Given and then taken
Taken; given taken

infighting was plentiful

Riots: The last remaining Twinkies fuelled a violent uprising
Hidden: remained the last of the jewels of the old world
The holy rod in the well moistened passageway of the lord

Enshrined with all but the power to create
This is the divine fate of those who stand long

The heart of Hod
Shall lead the Gringoid
to the rod of sod

May it’s essence continue; unwaveringly
May the rod remain tainted; everlasting

Deepened.
Abyss of entrance.
With reverence, gaze unto the corn of ages.
With reverence, reduce yourself to a fine powder.
With social awareness, kill someone who is well-liked in the community.

I entered the abyss.
Faced with the corn of scorn.
I left.
Again, I entered.
I left…

I cannot wait to die.
I entered.
I left.
I often buy groceries late in the evening.
It’s a better way to shop, muchacho.

Oh, deepness is a virtue.

————————–
Author: Andrew Buntine

Thanks to the lion for being so nice
if only she came from the land of the spice

Exception rules when rules will hide
Of you and me whose laughs are tied
To break the mold of eyes confined
A timeless path; True endless mind

I looked into my own third eye
Then slowly I began to cry
It seemed the only way to solve this game
was to destroy or to create

am I a muse, a distraction an escape?
Is that why you needed me?
now you will see that what you thought you held
was just one more illusory world

Anyone who does not see
Hurts by the very nature of non-seeing
Raised only to function for society
Is it any wonder we are all empty?

When we inflict pain due to obstructed nature
Without knowledge of our action
Is simply changing a few causes of pain enough to liberate humanity?

And when the bell tolles
It all falls down
A marvellous miracle
of miraculous clowns

Heiled be, the sin of Sod. The Dark Abyss is throbbing…

Keep your daughters locked up.
In the basement.
For I am one one.
The nether-one
The foaming one.

The graveyard yearns for me.
Calls for the deepening are lusting for hills of yonder.
Orgies of putrid black gore, he responds.
Just me, I remark.
Oozing vile shit.
For the ones I cannot help but cult.

Join me.
Molester the fester.
In war, only the ancient felch is real.
Powdered ethnic for my pipe.
Sodomize the men first!

*****************

This is just a small human-rights peice I am working on…

————————–
Author: Buntz Doom

The secret is hidden in the very fabric of space/time
The moment is of infinite depth
The immeasurable is eternal
The insurmountable is illusory

Consciousness is space
Thought is matter
Just as matter dances within space
So does thought dance in consciousness?
They are two sides of the same coin

The individual is the doorway between heaven and earth
Human beings are searching for doorways without realising that they are a doorway
The true self is the whole (holy)
The body is god’s hand
Unconscious thought is divine obstruction
Conscious thought is a heavenly muse

Oh the throws that kitty knows
Can bend and twist and touch the toes
Who hovers over light as snow
and touches all with a golden glow

Some said sin would judge the knowers
but those who knew were forest goers
Party folk disappear into the trees
As pan plays flute with the birds and bees

And a chain of desire is pulled forth from me
in some such way of tortured pleas
but I can only turn around and run
because the game hence forth has just begun

She sees me here and sees me there
and all the while is unaware
of deeper truths that pave the path
into the darkness in my heart

Part 1

What is a mudha?
And do needs really must when the devil drives?

—

A poem or a pond? And far above the surface, the swaying of a palm frond.
Would you prefer the solid ground or drifting through the lofty heights betwixt the air of summer rain and winter nights?

—

He said they were happily without muses. Confined to the lower three.
What is life without the muses?

—

The one that judges always accuses. It separates and lays to waste all the divine and mighty grace.
A poem or a pond was always the most important question because it told of another place to share the bare and faceless space.

—

Chase your tail; this race is frail. What more could a tale entail?
Than to be the one. The one to be… at comfort with infinity.

Part 2

Apparently there was spaghetti left there on the floor
But I looked closely and it didn’t look like spaghetti anymore

—————————————————————

I saw your golden hair and glowing smile
Bemused, aghast and stunned a while
I saw the Brahman in everyone
And learned to stare into the sun

You were a jewel on the crown of thorns
Who blew my trumpet to toot my horn

A silver river runs through the house of god
It snakes out forever in the heart of hod
I found it’s root on the mountain top
And harvested the herb from an abundant crop

The mind that compares said to show this to you
A glittering, glimmer of light in the few
But if you looked through and could see my name
Heralded insane in the face of the mundane
Is it really me that you see
Or is it just the action of duality?

But for you a million diamonds would pour
From the eternal garden of nine and score
Neither mattered not to me
Can I take your hand yet set you free?

Because if I can do so with heart elated
My time in heaven was always fated
And you as the divine will always be
As I fade away in the infinite sea

—————————————————————-

A trick of words or a play of the light
A game in the woods - when the day turns to night
Love and attachment together in the bath
Like the lunatic seeking a predfined (!path)

Part 3

The unseen is much more real than the seen
because the seen is manifest from the unseen