Poetry: Shaz Hobrath

Poetry:

Shaz Hobrath

MANIC CABARET ASTRONAUT

crushed to earth by the cold facts of the sober hour
descending into myself
for man is not a unity reflecting upon his failure
but an astronaut of perception as unstable as water
and i dream the shapes will vanish in the rain
and i dream that they will colour me insane
don't look for me on your level
i'm up here above the rain
oh manic cabaret astronaut
will cease upon the midnight with no pain

where is the logic in your earth bound passion?
striving to give flesh a romantic death
this civilized life awakened to chaos
what will people do when they see things as they are?

and what will you do when i vanish into the sky?
when your throat is cut by your own hand
the river of life remains in the dirt
the only truth is in the wind blowing out into space

here i've gazed with an eye of art
i've finally found my place
i finally feel my heart

and what will you do when you see things as they are?
what will you do?






LOVE WITHOUT ENERGY


I can't be anybody's desperate object
My branch-like veins are inhabited by a murderer's logic
One slip of my eye produces a bloody welt
Three cuts from my tongue and i encourage society to melt

My ugly habit of perpetual retreat
into a shroud posing as art
My empty gifts of cerebral brutality
My bleeding claws within my punctured heart

Pagan whores bearing nail-like scorn
Simulating my wounds in a theatre so proud to be born
Loneliness is peaceful in this day and age
It's amazing what we can get used to

My skin is weeping to be set free
from all this love without energy
I am the pedal point for which everyone can ignore
I am sustaining, i am remaining
an internal war
What should mean the most to me?
Giving love without energy
It's amazing what we can get used to






AN ABSOLUTELY AVERAGE OBLIVION

What has brought me here
to this Saturnine poverty?
Using succulent weeds to numb my forever
All screams are swallowed by oxygen
All memory too poisonous to ingest

And breathing is a chore in my America
The comfort of unreal emptiness
The scent of a burned out sun
Tepid, ravenous, and all consuming
In an absolutely average oblivion

And dare i hope for unconditional anything
Emotional elevator demon
Too arrogant to receive any praise
Too organic to melt into costume
No longer a poster boy for the insane

Now, dreaming is a chore in my America
Those voices, just paper, computer, and pose
What will i show when my life is done?
Blank, fearless, and ever distant
In my absolute average oblivion






BARE RUIN CHOIR

clarity spoken, this melencholia stood still
insanely callous mad clown grows wings
but still won't fly away

those open windows are the chains
the rest of the world is getting faster
but why should we?

a bare ruin choir of voices full of spite
with sincerity in their eyes
as controlled as gelitan souls
they move and they melt
but their instinct for angels awakens their demons

incidental generation
competing with time and with will
we should leave this common world of daylight
and learn to fly away

i cannot compromise this game of emotional profit
the sin of my strength lies everywhere
like leaves from a tree

and what about the depth of a strange cry
to freeze the will with a momentary lie
to violate inside the shell of mind
this mystery of God for all mankind






LOSING FLESH


here i am, not complete but as real as i know how
which is not allowed
but it doesn't affect me, not while i am empty

and am i empty? am i hollow?
for this is your flesh, not mine
and i won't waste any more time
i won't waste what i've gained
not at the price i've payed
but as long as i can feel
i am more and more real
and losing flesh is no longer a part of that deal

i can tell myself the truth
a wasted life is like a crutch
my body like a wall, chipped and brittle
i have nothing to give to those who fill their lives
with so little

i could no longer allow my sacred vision
to be polluted by a blind society's  perception
i never forgave myself
for falling prey to simplicity each and every day
how can i ask less of you?
there are no exscuses for this sickness you endorse
i'm a deviation from nature and with no remorse

i could fill my empty with your bleeding hearts
but forgive me, i was better
i was brave
but was i lonely?





DADDY WASN'T WARM ENOUGH


I walked up to a very fat lady who was eating sausage links. I
really wanted to feel her soft hair and pretend she was my father in
drag. She wouldn't let me put a fake mustache on her. But i followed her
home and i made her notice me. I wasn't about to let her sinister little
hand gestures stop me from laying my eggs in her wide mouth.  I followed
her inside. She seemed surprised, but she loosened up when i
said...."Brad Pitt would love the size of your anus".
She tried to get up the stairs but i wouldn't let her. "The eggs are
beginning to break" i screamed! "Get down on the floor and open your
mouth!"......But my lovely walking double bed had no intention of
helping me to realise my dreams. "Damn her to Hell" i thought. But what
i hadn't realised was that this woman was indeed my father in drag. The
zipper on the back of his neck gave him away. I threw him down on the
floor and i forced the eggs into his mouth. He screamed a sort of
gargled cry for justice. So i bitch slapped him til he passed out. I
dragged him into the basement and i surrounded him with rose
petals and rotten salami. The eggs began to hatch and out of my daddy's
mouth came two beautifully formed ironic statements.       And yet i
felt betrayed. So i ignored the statements and i rejected all irony. My
father was about to wake, so i quickly removed the rose petals but i
left the rotten salami. I didn't want to send him messages that i wasn't
prepared to follow through on. He made a lousy nest. He was a lousy
father. Perhaps his mouth wasn't warm enough. Maybe there is no mouth
warm enough. A mouth so warm that when my dick is in there, i just fall
asleep.
                  I walked away from irony. I
like leaving things for dead as i enter things that are alive.
Maybe there is no escape.