The Screams of the butterfly

Featured

In terrible airy alofts, flying high,
Adrift in anima amnesia’s,
Floating in fernweh forgottens,
A low birth in abyss’s,
Radiance in replete radials from rages
…In furious vortices.

You chase enchantment phantoms in Elysian fields,
Drips and drops tell tales to pebbling
flowers.
And sea’s shimmering sparkling spray,
Soliloquy’s shadowy opaque on gloaming coasts.

Butterflies, lonesome lighthouse sewn
shores,
The cannibalistic roses sanguine swell in opening horrors,
The star language songs sing and
susurrates,
Tower of Babel nations are euphoric in linguistic relates,
Your Jupiter cult divine drowned in
sacrificial wine.
The great oceans with brumal iced crest glistens luminesce,
Turning their faces in adorations to
eloquent suns.

Fires birthed from hollow
clouds eruption,
Butterflied veins in vain combust without refrain,
Butterflying flits in solar circles, dying in flaming cycles,
Swayed wings desperate, flutter flails
waves weave.
The sea shudders wide and the earth
gasps despondency,
It’s ceasing deceasing pleasing, powers
Gods.
Deserving of death, deserving of life…
Let him live…let him die…
Despised executioner, I…
But let departures be without
punishment.
The triumphant arrogant live…
…but if only…for one more moment.

It floats through sullen azure arches,
Delicates warbles sinking on failing ash
spark.
Strained in chained,
Fallen empires cycle timidly,
The swath mutes bitterly.
The screams of the butterfly.
In this witchly silence, the birds have no
name.

Howled realizations of impending
demise,
Roars in restless logos, linguistic
anguishing reviles.
The icy knife lunges, twisting in chests,
The dogs went wild from the scent,
Snake holes sent, trails for sour spent.

Icarus unspeakable without wings,
Eternal falling resonance in eternity
sings.
The unsettling crackling of film off it’s
reels,
Whooshing winds of terror revealed,
A thousand knives trembled eyes,
Broken winged horses and broken sighs.
Winged intimacy with deceasing,
Can you hear this breaking mercy?

Dropped to knee’s from flight, in front of shining seas light,
Womb burst swallowing lightning, torn
harsh flesh darkness in vain,
A new beast is born from the stain.
The cry of the caterpillar.

Falling lightning, beast in nerve cell
mornings,
Beast in miasmas with air on fire, breath a blazed!
Permeated atmosphere suffused
imbued.
She hoods submerging stars and turns
off the sun,
She transcends death threshing and flies
in the whirlwind storm,
Lunacy grasps the winged with scorn.

Transfigurations to sinister,
The harmonies collapse in desolation,
The intestines scream dissolution.
Sinking stars feverishly shaking black,
Red retch blood glares,
The veins swell chthonic flares.
Unquenchable expires,
Unsatiated thirst…fires!

This dawn of tamed passion possessed,
Mantles tremble in lowering laments,
The black forests gloam obsidian under
black moons,
The earthquakes grumble morbidity too
soon.
Dying iris turns transient,
Swallows hushed in sallow hollows,
The Hearances reviled,
The howl of the butterfly.
On this heartbreak soil
Deathly modus’s susurrous’s shipwrecks.
The Reaper ravages us all…
…For loss of her.

BUTTERFLY: Death, I heard you while you were breathing…
I heard you while you were sleeping…
I heard you while you were weeping….
I heard you while you were screaming…
Centuries of noosed escape,
Eons of eluding fate.
Shrieked clarions called silent,
On immortal heights.
The laughter of the butterfly.

Hell 2

Featured

Yes. this will be my Hell now.And now we move to transcendence to Ubermensch (beware, Nietzsche beware!), we transcend the horizon – to impossible spheres where there’s something that’s there all the time, waiting all the time to be found, but it must be sought beyond the horizon at the worth of living. Cosmic insights. the great mystery of dark riddles whose resolution shines type of a diamond. A mysterious substance pulsates within the dark because it waits to be found.

Transcendence as deception

The breakthrough, in consciousness, of the earthly Quarantine-Hell-Prison, the self-liberation and overcoming of the forces that make and sustain them – must suffer from uncertainty, like most abstractions – the traveller behind the unfathomable deceptions reaches for the impossible. he or probably she is tired of living during a body that’s complex of minerals, she is chasing something more, and where she must be more aggressive than Achilles in his trip to the astral. we must not reveal what it’s … even the seeker isn’t sure. She just knows it’s something waiting to be found. maybe something… sinister, too… the seeker has neither god nor master.

Her master is blood. She lives happily in blood, ashes and dirt. On the due to the horizon, she may meet angry and horrible pirates, black, bloody galleys … and swords .. but she wants to urge there … behind .. for a lump of the sun, she’s going to kill and may probably die early.

Therefore on departure, she says that the soul for her means a degree higher and let the Iliad, Homer so on…

Let the devil carry all of them.

Let a temple be built white as a monastery for Ophelia!

Leila Samarrai.

Look Back In Laughter 2


I remained in the city too long;
Money launderers and ferals of fascism at the temple,
Psychopathy, landlords and gargoyles of Hades,
Ticked the time of my anxiety agonies.
Inconsequential, just look back in laughter.

Scrying mirror celled phones scream light at zombied fright,
Tribaled in unthinking amorphous greys,
All thoughts delayed, philosophy forbade,
And I am banished from sight.
Look back in cackling.

With knived convulsions, he, throwing (my) poetry ferociously,
My books blades for harrowing Hades,
Cultist bastards out! Damnedable freakshow! Damnedable gargoyle!
I will slaughter your abhorrence with bare bloody hands…
…The dark will understand…
Look back in blackest laughter.

All the dinosaurs resting in me,
Bosch painting horrors imprisoning,
Revived in final clenches of human vulgarities.
Look back in mocking revulsion.

Diabolicus in blockus against stalkers seeking saccharine,
Lurkers performing following and flitting in fealty secrecy,
Diogenes mocking threnody beneath me.
Look behind you and chuckle.

Pharaoh’s prenatal in celestial womb,
Fetus feverish in supernova spasmal tomb,
The wheels of history bitterly consume.
Look back in laughter.

Dire desires drives for immortality.
Surviving slaughterhouses of foetal Ustase.
Gossips to trick track tumultuous trends,
Bends of claimed knowledge pretends.
Look back in howled hysterics

Blow dry magic torments and tricks,
To tame and reign hair she is unsatisfied with,
Primps and prods, baths and pedicure supplicate God’s,
Look back in laughter.

Bus ride’s between rooms,
Foul practicalities alchemy in bloom,
Niels Bohr atomic riots in gloom.
Look down in smiling derision.

Visions ignitions, Dubai dreams,
Luxury sensual collisions, minted pillows,
Spartan dishes fissions in asyluming delights.
It doesn’t matter…so…look back in laughter.

She maneuvers her demise into place,
Stratagem, strategies, tactics of replaced,
Cruel callous laws to sate.
Gorgon eyes to hide behind sanguined shirt,
Secret years she bares the tears growing it on her tit,
She digs sharp venomous teeth into it.
She sets the sacrifice of skin and flesh cancerous,
She wills Cerberus clock, let it tick, let it tock…
…until ends.
Look…look back in laughter.

Imps surround, push, pull, shove, harass, harry me.
But look to lacrimation she!
Struggles and sorrow, proud and pretence somnolent,
Desperate hollows in gambles,
In wilding fae’s, wasting away.
Look back in laughter.

Begging by crumbling fracturing fountain
Sleeping primal in public tempestuous transportation,
Are you insane? Why not give money to my children?
I use to have means like you.
Denarius jangling and dancing portents in my pockets,
Protect your drachma or find cruel fate at equal footing,
And the thronging crowds will cast pitying bones;
“Look at the poor thing, insane! What’s wrong with your head!”
Look back in laughter.

The meter is running and there is no room at the inn,
No apartments to appeasements begin.
She was once alluring in elegance untold.
Brought onto Caucasus from Egypt,
By the sons of Ommaya as per ibn Shaprut’s order,
The minister of Abd al-Rahman III and Sebikhasim,
Enslaved, slandered and scold, humiliated, depleted…sold.
A demigoddess of fulsome breasts,
Luxurious hair and pursed plump lips.
Look back tittering in tragedy.

Rejecting the Omayyad caliph,
He told Shaprut to sell Selima to the Khazar King Josef,
To do as he pleases, and this Hebrew king made Selima,
The slave-woman of Allah.
Selima slender, demure elegant unshakable bamboo,
With disgusts in her squealing breathe taking escaping.
Look back in ironic displacing.

Psychopaths along the rode trode dynastic,
Torchbearers of infinite Emperors.
He’s smells blood on the wind, he smells the sweat of victim,
…He smells competition.
Look back in laughter.

Look around…nobody…
Something, someone?…nothing…
Somebody?…nobody in crowns…
Nobody gone to ground…
Nobody is found…
Tomes of related wisdoms nauseate,
The numbers in cruelty mean fate.
Stare intently in tactical laughing.

Strings bind to me in unbreakable unremorseful,
The past hunts behind me.
Medusa drinks me in marbled glass,
In the cruel poison of her irony.
Visages transfixed, trapped in ivory.
Inconsequential…just look back…in laughter.

©® Leila Samarrai

Look Back In Laughter


I remained in the city too long;
Money launderers and ferals of fascism at the temple,
Psychopathy, landlords and gargoyles of Hades,
Ticked the time of my anxiety agonies.
Inconsequential, just look back in laughter.

Adrift from celestial home, cosmic child,
The world reviled, I am alien lost on sordid shores,
Differentiated, solemn soliloquysous to the core.
Evermore infinites, standing alone.
Look back forever in laughter.

Scrying mirror celled phones scream light at zombied fright,
Tribaled in unthinking amorphous greys,
All thoughts delayed, philosophy forbade,
And I am banished from sight.
Look back in cackling.

With knived convulsions, throwing (my) poetry ferociously,
Smelling blood on the wind, smelling the sweat of victim,
…Smelling competition.
Look back in laughter.

Look around…nobody…
Something, someone?…nothing…
Somebody?…nobody in crowns…
Nobody gone to ground…
Nobody is found…
Tomes of related wisdoms nauseate,
The numbers in cruelty mean fate.
Stare intently in tactical laughing.

Strings bind to me in unbreakable unremorseful,
The past hunts behind me.
Medusa drinks me in marbled glass,
In the cruel poison of her irony.
Visages transfixed, trapped in ivory.
Inconsequential…just look back…in laughter.

Out in the transcendence and exiled,
Child of cycling stars wild and purified,
I stand apart, fiery eyed, beautified at surging shores,.
I am hurdling haughty towards the door.
And always now…and forever…
Looking back in laughter.

©® Leila Samarrai

2

Trifles


The car whose beeping I heard tomorrow
don’t transcend
let me see
the suit I put on tomorrow
let me see
washing machine
propensity for trinity
let me see
pulmonary powder, used
is just another part of the harassment details
in the wake of tissue and in the wake of tomorrow
tomorrow tomorrow tomorrow

The other, unhappy, I, in rapture, full of cry,
I secretly bow my ears to the air,
It’s bitter under the tunnel
Almost transparency
Everything was crying.
Be whole in the veil

I washed my hunger in my stomach tomorrow
in a sentence with a short lifespan
you walk alone and you walk alone
and you run into the bars
and skip the bars
you skip the bars

The memory started that the bars were simply the bars
in a gas puddle
in the fish trail
in the flesh, my machine did not wash it
for the bars is the bars
now especially when the veins are close to the bloodstream
then, it won’t be

in unmodified veins, scattered bottoms seek etiquette
in my forgery of canyoning
What smells like announcing the space of individual songs is reminiscent of home
I know how it is, you know how it is, not everyone is beside me
a canvas for a feather and all things

I’m someone else’s hallucination
Scattered remains of will, Unknown Someone
Where the views have reached, the future memory is constantly delayed in its arrival
the stonecutter, silent and shaded, did not utter a voice
And we just didn’t leave it all out.