Pray for the Hunter

A finished work. I'm pleased with the result.

Part 1; The Final Chaos

 

The moon is a bohemian phoenix

The sun an amputated raven

The night sky Salem

The bright rising ivory daylight the scythe I live by

Let it rise in the burning black

Metabolism of biomechanisms

Driven into the Olympian

Himalayans of ravens

Let it fall freezing eternity

Within the burgundy insurgency

Of internal infernos of primordial corridors

Opening doors to different worlds

Raise hatred as if it were our pride and joy

Growing old with us

A lonely memento of the crowds

Who chained me down like I was a monster

And I took root in the dirt

And barked out at them with my angry branches

And fallen leaves in our embrace

Disassembled temples

To a vengeance of devil’s entropy

Like the angel of death, pestilence resurrected

On his last breath, intestinal Bethlehem

The clef of the apocalypse of

Rotting gospels octaves provocative

Dancing with the phantoms

Of red-handed necromancers

Rising ivory with the siren’s of

Volatile poltergeists philosophized unprophesized

Coffins shine orchestra’s of fornicating rigour mortis

Contorted in the malice

Talon’s of avarice

Malachite aurora borealis

Lunar blooming entombed

In the womb of a universe

Hymns of Pythagorean pandemonium

Psalms of Babylon’s Ragnarok

Bygone harmonies reincarnated,

Iron armaments entourage wastelands

The ventriloquist’s strings pulled by

Ursuline guillotines of intravenous double helixes

The strands of damnation’s phoenix

Sarcophagus Symphonia the proclamation of ravens

Bathed emblazed in the Salem

Of stygian oblivion maleficent

As the corroded inferno

Metallurgical hurricanes

In the four corners of purgatories

Of Victorian corridors borrowed

By the pantheons of holocaust

Frolicking in bottomless constellations

Flickering in the abyssal civilization,

As ever dissipating in the hatred’s invitation

Man’s final chaos, having faith in initiation

Engraved upon our faces

Sanguine antagonistic hysterics of

Paragon bygones the onslaught

Velvet eldritch belladonna

Crawling with the fauna semi-auto

Prismatic as Abaddon’s

Phantasmagorical overlords

Comatose in morose overtures

Coarse morticians incorporeal limericks

Disfigured stigmatization

Downbeat accelerando candelabras obliteration

 

 

Part 2; Eclipse of Calypso

Eclipse of calypso

Big Dipper Icarus lunar immunodiffusion

Uplifting photosynthesis crucifixion

Of the apparition’s sacrilegious

Antagonistic baptisms

Blasphemous alabaster

Megalomaniac cataclysms

Risen from cinnabar equilibrium

Puppet-master charred arteries

Of cardiovascular onomatopoeia

Resurrecting revenants crepuscular

Evanescence deafening penance

Heavens remedy disassembled by

Armageddon’s demigods rebellion against

Parhelion memories

Tenebrous delicate voiceless crown

Of deciduous obsidian martyrdom of Tartarus

Meadowlands cadaverous

The banter of dandelions' enchanting sanctuary

Pathological phantasmagorical corridors

Of metamorphosis contorting metallurgical

Purgatory of aurora borealis

Malachite as the night sky’s patricide

Masquerading intangible phantoms

Sabbatical amaranthine damnation

Electroconvulsive polyphonic blossoming

Molotov’s the molten solstice of metamorphosis

Porcelain chlorophyll of Abbadon’s diablo

Wrangled anchor of hangman’s gambit slandered

By reanimated amalgamation diabolical constellations

Of antioxidants cosmopolitan Holocausts

Sarcophagus doppelgängers nocturnal vertebrae

Eternity a hurricane labyrinth of stratosphere

Psychosomatically hippocratic oath

Babylonian ghost of sabotaged Avalon

Strangled by the handmaidens of mannequins

Travesty entangled in the jaws of Abbadon

In the paraplegic coliseum

Of jagged fragrant onomatopoeia

 

Part 3; Alphabetical Armageddon

 

Raven-haired saviours, Valkyries

Savour sabres, death-toll croaks

Crows cloaked in twilight’s volatile loath

Enshrouded alphabet of hieroglyphs

Psychotic psychotropic obelisks

Monolithic encryption avaricious invitation

Of decapitated asterisks babbling sociopathic

Rhapsodic diabolical melancholic exoskeleton

Lycanthropic apocalypse mockingbird purgatory

Seven-story discordinating

Phantasmagorical orphanage

Of incorporeal vorpal lisp

Dorsal fins, corpses grin

Grim symmetry, cinnamon infinity

Inferno’s journey, infentesimo decibels

Of fauna’s leprechaun concubine

Intertwined serpentine birthing earthen rhymes

Perpendicular antithesis of anticipation

Reawakening the reaper’s entropy

Parthenogenesis crepuscular

Armageddons shotgun-wedding

Apocrypha’s resin coating endorphins in the

Forward metaphorical corpus

Crocus forfeited horoscope 

 

Wanderer

 

You can tell them that I came looking for you

Like a blind man searching for redemption

But only found myself, following memories

Running deep in the ocean bottom of thought

Lost in the wake of slumber

Try your luck before it runs out and leaves you lonesome

And the devil that stole my pride said;

It is not you that I wish to punish, it is your creator

Tear down Babylon and build a stairway to heaven

Out of the puzzle pieces I played with as a child;

Unable to fit in with the others

Meet your maker

Reap what you sow, flowering twig

For we took the world by storm, and he stole our thunder

And our leafy wings

Blood Garden

Incantation’s reincarnated graven

By wayward spade decapitated slaughter

Of the diabolical’s alter fabricated

Sabbatical Abaddon glamorous eradication

The gates of heaven are your Armageddon

As evangelical elegies disgrace your education

By backhanded hatred’s melody

Schizophrenic saviour apologetic aether

Waging wars invigorated tossed off the balcony

Both sides of the coins landing

Raising horrors reborn from orifices

Of incorporeal cowls of Valkyries alchemy

Origami astronomist, these hieroglyphics

Of infinite toxicity photosynthesize

Intertwined with meteorite alabastrine satellites

Stalactites and stalagmites hanging from intangible

Like a demiurge of expurgatory

Spitting obsidian riverbeds the jagged edge

Of rigour mortis porcelain metamorphosis

Incandescent crepuscular resurrection

Of maleficent extraterrestrials

Vesicular bioluminescent omnipresent entropy

Brothers of voluptuous homunculi

Die by the blade, in your hands, in your heart

Bridled by shade, swinging shingle wingspans

Martyrdom babylonian yard sales in the hailstorm

Of unicorn maelstrom purgatory crematorium

Buy blighted faith, vandel’d lamb, tangled strands

Darkside betrays, finger brands, angel’s arching angst

Fried diced premade, mangers slander

Surviving biting the face like a caramel apple

Sabbatical candles, peace of mind,

Mask the scent tense suspended in revelation's twine

I put together the puzzle called life

And it looks like a mug shot’s apocalypse

Documented by apostles who prophet

The cinders of the windowpane shame the everglades

Oh angry God, why won’t you look in my eyes?

Mangled God, why won’t you listen to my spittle?

Avatar, why have you forgotten hope?

Strangled heart, why is it that you reap what’s sown?

And still grow old from womb of the earth?

Dangling scythe, I stitched myself back together,

Am I not the finest leather?

Should intermittent vengeance arm again

His red right hand to plague us?

Would my Armageddon surrender

To the evergreen dreams you distanced from me?

Would the forest’s corridor’s chorus roar horoscopes

Of cornucopia drawn upon by these metal lungs?

Into your branches, anchored in the anguish,

The fangs you made me brandish

Behind the handlebars of another brindles’ scar?

Kindling wildebeest imprisoned in the photosynthesis

In the opera of a hospital’s phantom,

Languish insanctuaries anthem sanguine gowns unbound

Ransomed pantheons spawned by dawnstars in the night,

Onwards crucified divided

Multiply the denominator,

This life is my abomination

 

 

Castaways’ Masquerade

 

Singing hymns of oblivion

Stinging strings of obsidian

We all hang by this neck of the woods,

Swinging in the stigmatism

Transcendental penitentiaries,

Unbridled asylums

Apostolic hospitals in the

Gothic bonfires of the horizon's throne

Violated by annihilations’ own

Saving graces of avian incarceration

Flying flags of vagabond commodores primordial

Morbid curiosity of glossy phosphorescence

Relentless heavens of

Submissive labyrinthine infinity

Stretching through Armageddons

Sepulchral hecatomb universe

Impersonated for thirst name’s

No basis incubating hatred’s vibration

Resuscitated bioluminescent extraterrestrials of

Pestilential ectoplasmic depravity

Eradicating dilapidated travesties

In the cavernous Abaddon

Where my heart reincarnated discombobulated

Cyborg metamorphosis of automaton constellations of

Biomechanical Albion enshrouded

Valkyries of melancholic ensembles

Fondling the tonsils of belladonna concubines

A conference of obelisks

Doppelgängers with the referendum of

Parthenogenesis resonating ultimatums

Reincarnated effigies resurrecting deathless

Of kalpa devote Valkyries outrage of

Plagiarist avarice of ecclesiastical cardiovascular asterisks

Blasphemous antagonist basilisks

Ventriloquist of Priscillicas 

Entire worlds swirl

A spiral of kaleidoscopes opalescent evanescence

Renaissance of Everest penumbras homunculus

The setting sun scars the stars of

Carnivalesque nebulous skyscraper defibrillators

Visionary’s of inquisition’s scintillation

Disintegration risen from the schism

Of equilibriums invalids like entropy’s confederates

Shapeshifting hieroglyphics of

Terraforming metamorphosis

Vorpal as the incorporeal earth

Mourning purgatory’s bliss,

A stories rigour mortis kiss,

Alabaster ventriloquist rippling whip

Of heartstrings incarceration 

The masquerade of castaways

This Maddening World

 

Confetti metallurgy, the torrential empress of emptiness’ temptress

Deafening respiratory corridors valedictorians of

The storyboard’s oracle

Pandoras soldiers phantasmagorical as

The ghost of comatose eternals hypothermia

Ethereal double helixes secretion paraplegic

Siege machinery a seigniorage revenants elemental trebles

Of crescendo rebellion embryos of ebony memories

Emblems of demiurge demise of the serpentine Ursuline

Personified perpetrators of perpetual crepuscular etching

Of decimation articulating precipitating

Omnipotent aeons antithesis played on the grapevines of

Aether creation of graphite lines intertwined choirs of

Frankenstein twilight apartheid embargo of armada’s dominatrix

Archangels of acrylic villa’s in the veins of arcanum

Masquerading the craven Salem of apostles of

Apocrypha gospels of doppelgängers, phosphorus obelisks

Of cosmos dominos as they blossom flow, cardinal,

Fallen oath of diabolical harmony’s that I will never hear

For life will never lend deaf its ear

 

Bits and Pieces

 

Give me a minute and I’ll take it without a second thought

An hourglass figure is as beautiful as a church with broken stained glass for teeth

The stairway to the sky is quite the flight of hearts

Born from the blood of gods, the flower of man wilts in his pilgrimage

Grimacing at civilization, cremated into a beautiful explosion

A bullet waiting to fire from the chambers of damnation

God's russian roulette

 

Wilting Smile

 

You think I haven’t died?

Died to see the light of day?

I still pray in the ashes of an asylum’s church

For words stillbirthed

 Are my corpse cathedral

 For a time I’m still binded to primeval

 In my burials upheaval

 But I still get up in the morning

Even after you brought the world

 Down upon me

In my citadel of malevolence

 The hollow box of my soul

I suppose some flowers only bloom once

Our only bonds are the chains of memory

That hold me down and stole serenity

The holy Gods have their own cemetaries

I write the stories of every foundations emissary

I built you up, my old archenemy

The only poison for the remedy

 

Finale; The King’s’ Eulogy

A lighthearted person cannot come to terms with their own darkness

Their very shadow an avatar of the stretch of time, still

A shard of glass piercing the other pieces of stars

With the black prism of a sun’s doubt

Outcast by the dice that rolled like thunder in the depths of vice

The abyss scratching acrid ice

Waiting for the pitch world that has yet to surface;

Devoid of purpose

 

P.S; Pincushion

 

I break down and build myself up again

From the dust of the attic of clouds

It’s hard to be the foundation of anything when you’re under pressure

From all the stories people share written into my flesh

Standing proud over my crumpled body

Parchment skyscrapers like Babylon stretch on from my steppingstones

Yet these people think they’ll go to heaven like an empty page

What kind of high rising hell raised like a flag to the clouds could ever be loving?

I’m not about to taunt God with my hatred for ink

You’re not even a psalms patron for a blink

I’m not about to sing you hymns of existence

You people end where I begin avaricious 

With your little pushpin inquisitions

I’ve got the rhythm in my fingers for the bones of marrow dolls

Your heartbeats been relinquished, your angels fall

 

 

 

 

 

I hope your blood runs coldhearted

So my metal memories will be jumpstarted

And I wish I could be there

To talk with you like men

But I suppose this is all I am

Just a shell left buried in the sands

Author's Note

I've been working on this for a while now, always adding to it, always not ready to post. But even though I still want to add more, the urge to share what I have now is just far too great. Enjoy.

I promise I read every single review, and I generally will reply to them. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be happy to hear anything you feel needs sharing. Whenever you write on my shortcomings or breakthroughs, or the themes of my poems, or share ideas and friendly criticism, it decides my next poem to an extent. I will listen, learn and be thankful. And 99% of the time, you'll get a reply unless you're trolling me.

Reviews

[wordman]

top notch work and the layout is fantastic,mr poe would be proud

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

Thank you wordman! :)

[wordman]

you`re welcome

[wordman]

you know the only thing that i dislike for a better word,maybe concerned is that you stay on the dark evil side with all your writing,get out and get some sunshine

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

I’ll try to bring a little light into a few of my poems.

[wordman]

hey,if you like the dark side then so be it,,the world is full of evil,

[barleygirl]

Most people possess only a fraction of this many different unusual words in their brain of everyday functionality. It makes me wonder if you do have all these words readily available in your head (I think this is the case, since you use many of the same words fairly often) or how much you use other aides like a rhyming dictionary or thesaurus to summon such exquisite amazing word strings!?!?!

I had to stop reading & start commenting, there's so much I already want to say, midway thru first one! (Too much to comment on & remember, if I read it all the way thru in one sweep).

This is by far one of your most amazing efforts, with regard to the way you combine word sounds into pleasing, startling, somewhat rhyming, thought-provoking strings! Some ideas that you throw down are so heavy & profound, a person could write an entire poem on just one of your thoughts . . . such as this . . . "Raise hatred as if it were our pride and joy" (deeply stinging meaning!) . . . "Rotting gospels octaves provocative" (stunning sound & biting meaning!)

Eclipse of Calypso . . . this phrase conjures up so much about what's going on in the world today . . . so much crazy-loud chaos, the dance of life is eclipsed . . . that's so profound . . . and then the rest of this passage seems to spiral into heavier & deeper territory where dancing could not possibly survive or flourish.

Wanderer -- love having a break in the abstract, a breather of more conversational lines.

Blood garden . . . love the intense probing done with questioning!

Masquerades of castaways . . . love the sound & meaning . . . & this: "We all hang by this neck of the woods, swinging in the stigmatism"

Madding world . . . doesn't make as much sense to me, but then the world doesn't make sense either.

Bits & Pieces . . . beautiful writing!

Wilting Smile . . . amazing artwork & I love the self-righteous indignation expressed.

Finale . . . interesting ideas . . .

PS . . . my favorite of this, love the way this part feels like you're opening up more on a personal level & again, amazing artwork to show us what words cannot. This sounds exactly how I feel, with regards to the craziness possessing the world's uppermost consciousness these days . . . it's baffling & so often has nothing to do with what people are really thinking & feeling & responding to . . . just noise to blot out any chance that we might make some meaningful connections about life, about each other, about our enemies, about anything.

I hate to say this, becuz it sounds a little critical of your writing style, but in places your voluminous outpourings remind me of the very noise spieling into our consciousness from all the noisemakers, a flood of ideas & prognostications which kinda drown out the important points so we have to dig & search & slowly consider each phrase to find each gem that resonates while much of the rest is like background music, setting a mood for what's being said, what's being understood. I don't think your voluminous outpourings are a bad thing . . . just kinda representing the onslaught about which you are pontificating! So much noise out there, it's sometimes hard to figure out what to focus on, which is why I sometimes just do my own thing in a happy loner way . . .

Always a pleasure to be thought-provoked by you! Sorry I can't even begin to get my arms around everything you've packed into this! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

I put a lot of hard work into this, so I'm so glad to see it be greatly appreciated! I definitely had a lot to say with this one, and with my poetry, I like to ask certain questions and make people dig for the answers, because those answers then become just as creative and imaginative as the questions. All I mean is that by hiding the answers, people can come to completely different conclusions as readers and still find truth in the same poem. In that this, poems are questions that could end up with any answer, depending on the view point, perspective, and intensity of the reader. I do not use a rhyming dictionary, I natural love making rhythm, flow, and like sounding art with my words. It's something I've been perfecting for years, and these days I'm really happy with how far I've gotten and gone into that melody until I felt like each stanza was one line. I still have a lot to learn and a longer way to go though. I do use dictionaries, and look for synonyms of words that I find to be a good match for what I want to say, but don't sound the way I want them to. This helps me discovery new words as well. Often, I search for new words I find to be beautiful, and add them to the repertoire. I also use auto-correct to find words that I might be able to use in other poems while I'm editing. I focus on improving my lexicon, so that I can retreive and phrase exactly what I want to to say with greater detail. I'm always searching for new words. I just keep reading other artists, and get inspired. We are all one community as dreamcatchers of sorts. So when I read, I have far more to write about.

Always happy to read such an amazing review, it makes me excited for the next chapter!

[.]

I didn't get what I wanted, it's missing ...but all yours. Hope it's going to be nice. It didn't go in much, it could be my fault but it is what it is this time.

Keep Writing!

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

Thanks for reading, and if you ever need to talk just let me know. I'll get started on the collab sometime.

[.]

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