in your Raven eyes
Diamonds in the Sky
I see you in a Reflection
I see my Self staring back
I lose my self
in your Raven eyes
And i know
The we
Are On
The same
Path
MB93
LL🖤🥀
Diamonds in the Sky
in your Raven eyes
in your Raven eyes
Concrete Juice Bar
Concrete Juice Bar
Tammy Love
On her knees
at 1 am
42 Street
giving
elbow grease
and jiffy wax
to
Jumpin Johnny’s
Hot Rod
Cock
inside a dimly
lit Buddy Booth
…cigarette burned
linoleum
…. open
tin of Moroccan hash,
a slab of black bun tar
Fanned out
bell bottoms
on fine fine Black Ass,
in
rollers and
waveset in shower cap
heat
well-pressed
honey suckel
bitch slapped crack
across her face
she turns back
and smiles with Those eyes
grabs his Cock
in a kung fu grip
behind
back stairs
where no one cares
the soundtrack of
Bum piss
permeates
these wretched halls
Trixie Darling,
never one to miss a beat
cashing in on
midnight lust
behind a
two-way mirror
five dollar floor show
Minny Rockets gives
another familiar stranger
the happy ending
to a perfect night
she wipes her eyes
before the thick goo sets
and fingers
from palm
to tip
….sunburst highrise
gold rush between her thighs
tenement spread pussies
and loads
and loads of
well hung cock
in the VIP
room of hush hush
or die
… a bottle of Popov
vodka spilled
on a two bit
Texan fraud
the
king size bed
takes More change
vibrating away
as Lacy Vanilla
leans on in
for another
cum filled kiss 💋
.
mc²
2022
.
Mirror Mirror
Mirror Mirror
She has a sparkle in her eyes
That twinkles and shines
Says “Pull over Boy! I got sumthin’
for you”
She’s got a smile that stops me dead
in my tracks, makes my blood run hot
and I can’t help but to surrender.
A warm balmy breeze, got me to my knees, I feel her pull my hair as I welcome her thighs.
She’s my yin to my yang, she’s my wild mustang that broke me instead cuz she got the upper hand (literally)
This is the moment, I’ve waited my whole life for, she gives me a run for my money and I beg her for more.
My better half holds me, up against the wall, i see the devil in her eyes, myself lookin’ back at me….
Nuclear explosion caught up in emotion of longing, lust, and desire
The pull of the tides, the magnetic union, for the first time in my life I feel the Holy communion, bringing together with a slight twist of fate all of her glory within my soulmate.
I’m bashful, humbled, she is so much and more, the sex in her voice is like a whisper…… i adore
Do what thou wilt is the whole of the Law, and this is my promise to give her my All……
93/93
LL🖤🥀
As Real As It Gets
As Real as It Gets
You wonder why i panic
If you do, i have good reason
If you say to me, “I’ll be right Back”
I hold my breath and count each second that passes by.
I want to be your hero, i long to be your love, i reach down deep inside myself am i strong enough?
The world, no…. Humans!
Have built this world of fear, with camera alarms and personal walls erected to keep us safe.
It’s been almost a year since they found Judith Marie Gutierrez across the street in over grown grass, simply next to the street, her body bloody and unclothed.
Fear…… ?
Yes….
This is the Same street that my Wubby died. The same street she was clenched in the jaws of a city wolf, that crushed her ribcage in a single bite. But i reflect i can’t make any sense of it all, because of the two….. The Human is the greater Monster…. How many participated
In the final moments of Judith’s death? The word on the street, was driver, passenger, and one more in the back seat with her. Poor girl, Twenty years of age, never had a chance.
What happened in the struggle,
why the blood (that ran from her mouth) I Hate that “men will be men” It is truly an embarrassment that i live with.
So when I don’t hear from you, even a sign, to know that your alright, understand…. It’s because I care
MB93
Happy Birthday Ron
To ALL
Happy Birthday 🎂
My friend!
Glory
Glory
The trumpets
Play
Ceremonial
Thunder
The
earth shakes
Mountains RISE
Oceans flowwww
Meadows stretch
far far far
Beyond the Horizon
Cherubs sing
Bring special blessings
To the Kentucky Man
of Golden words
And
Children
The Future
Gather in heart felt
Circles
Holding hands
In a ring of tomorrows
As poems fall
From the sky
Like the first
Snowfall
And
“Bring Hope
To ALL”
Are the words
Of the
MagicK Man
MB93
2022
Wasted Angel
For All that enter
Wasted Angel
Wasted angel
Gargoyle rooftops
guardians
See the cumming
Of
Sinister Sam
dressed in
shadows
armed with
switch blade
Talents
He can carve his Name
Into anybody’s soul
All aboard
Last reproach
He
remains alone
In a distant
Dusty seat
Of the Last
Scheduled
Passenger car
the
L train
Slowly rolls
away…
Three stops later
At precisely 12:05am
(the dicks would later call in)
Brandishing
His knife-edged
neon Intent
Exposes her breast
In Full form
In public forum
Captured on
Security Cam
… she sensed infinity
in that
moment
Drew in what she
perceived would be
Her final Breaths
Saw the faceless
Hands of her saviour
And their disconnect
Riviera bit
her down on her
lower lip
Closed her eyes
And dreamed
Of the open fields
Of
El Salvador
Now
Alone
beside cold
Electric rails…
A beggar watches
The perverted scene
Playing out
With himself
Before
Pulling zipper open
taking hand on meat
just waiting
to bust a hard boiled nut
Station tunnels
…soaked in
Urine euphoria
Create core memories
For All that enter
one-day feeling her pain
Truth
hidden like stars
behind sulphur clouds…
Wafting
Dangerous fruit
A flasher
Smiles
In the distance
Adorn in
Grey trenchcoat of
Death
waving his
withered cock…
In circles
at the folly we call
New York City
Blues
An ol’ wino
embalmed on
Bathtub barefoot gin
Laughs wildly into a fit
of rage
As Pete Noir
slow slowly
takes the stairs
Down
Drops a coin into
A rusted
turnstile
Poor
Riviera Moon
desperately
tries
to
Hold on and
Cling to yesterdays
Whet tears
Of pain and fears
With a broken rosary
Nursery rhymes
tries to make the Monster
Disapear go Back
from where it came
And
what faith
She has
For
A Useless
GOD
ever demanding
Respect and doing
Absolutely Nothing
For
Those
Who choose
To believe…….
And
We say these things
To All that’s Holy
In the Name
Of
Jesus
Fucking
CHRIST
**Amen**
•
mc²
•
2022
The Day We Meet
To find, the myth of truth
The Day We Meet
Is it krazeee that I want
a royal palace
A place to escape to
and share my life
I long to cherish
Something more
Hold a shooting star
In the palm of my hand
Understanding freedom
Is both letting go
and desire
The surrounding keep
With floral windows
of blue lavender and
The scent of Baby’s breath
Gathered just before winter
For sacred oils and soothing
Balms
Trapeze terraces
Sunset stained glass
Of gnostic scenes
In a myriad of brilliant
colours, telling stories
of my magicK and exaltation
Fallen martyrs and mystic
Words
My sanity slowly crumbles
a little more displaced each day
Down down down
To dust like an ancient wall
No longer to fortify
My dreams or my ambitions
My fortress has been built
Upon pain and the loneliness
of a thousand dreams that have
long since died
I see my reflection
How I’m I still
Alive
Temples and turrets
erected with alligator motes
Simple designs to keep the
Outside word at bay
As vultures circle
My still warm corpse
Gnats and rigamortis fill
This empty vessel from within
Electric energy
A miracle of heaven
Second chances of existence
A bonfire pyre ignited
Both consumes and renews
Ushering in s new era
For new goals and dreams
Velvet skin, charcoal eyes
Raven black hair with
Spells in her eyes
It pulls me
You pull me close
I want to share my visions
My talents with you
The brand Newness of it all
Most likely labeled reckless
Even fancy-free
Scarlet Woman lyrical Moon Child
Incarnation Babylon Queen
Drink with me
from this Holy chalice
vinanna
Your my patron saint
Of All that is right
I bow before you
I offer you my all
A former King
Now a Slave to corruption
The rift has opened up
The veil between
Humans and gods
And delivered you
To US
I CAN Feel the magick storm
Upon us That Reveals our bond
And vision quest
Our purpose
Our Union
One in the same
i delight in you beauty
Presence and
Voice
Take me
Take me
Take me
I’ve have searched my entire life
To find, the myth of truth
I am good for you
I can teach you All
the ways
of the universe
and the rites to pagan gods
You
Deserve MORE
brilliance, understanding
Someone not unlike me
To hold your hands
You
I long to be with you
And ask nothing more
Than to be
By your side
And radiate
All that you are
Inspiring me
To push me to be
More than I am
For you
You are
MagicK
Of
The Gods
We are the New potential
The ushering in of the New Aeon
We are the dreams the key
To the Evolution
The next level
Of the human race
You have arrived
Upon Vimana
Let us,
Be one….
Forever
and
Evermore
MB93
The Hobo Code(part 1)
The hunger grows
The Hobo Code
(part 1)
Crossing
The Motherland
X’s & O’s
Tic Tac Toe
Never any winners
The hunger grows
The fire tells stories
Within the eye
of the Flame and
Smoke crown rise
Into the night sky
Black
Soot
Skin
Blood
The Hobo Code
Marks in wooden poles
Secret language of the free
The invisible breathe
Switchblade voices
Rise and fall
Coffee stained heart beats
Within skeletal ribcages
Brittle Hollow Empty
of life and marrow
MB93
Photo
Bexley Jade Vega & Louise Brooks
Coming Down
Beyond the dome
Coming Down
He
floats around
in orbit
Circling
Wondering
the earth
Seems small
From
Far away
A distant planet
he called
Home
Out here
Beyond
the Van Allen
belt
Out here
He remains
Alone
A speaker crackles
But nothing
Is
coming through
His oxygen
Levels
Dangerously low
Has he lost
His way
A bit more time
Hanging on a
Wire
Asteroids
and shooting stars
Flicker around Him
like Neon signs
It’s
Been too long
and
He hates him
Self
for feeling
Useless
and
Afraid
Recovery
Affirmation
Is there life
Beyond the dome
The brightest memory
His destination
His
Once upon a time
He still believes
In fairytales
Simple things
like happiness
It’s way too deep
For it to All mean
nothing
He sleeps
With one eye open
And wonders
When she’ll
Be
Home
5:36
11/21/22
LL🖤
Reflection
Looking back at me
Reflection
Sullenly lost
Sleep walking
Through life
One foot
In front
Of the Other
Kris Kringle sang
My heart
Feels hollow
Bang banging
Within this
Hollow cage
Of bone
Alone
And the wind
Cuts deep
Of memories
That were never
Birthed
And
I find my reflection
Looking back at me
In a rain puddle
Of tears
That lays
Before
My feet
And
With
The reflection
I see you / me
Staring back
At what
I could
Have
Been
Secrets of Wonka
Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory taught me even in my youth, the very secrets of life!
Such quotes “open” your mind to receive other Deep universal messages, lessons and Truths.
Nothing is truly what it seems.
Reading between the lines raises your personal vibrations, and makes you more available to Spiritual growth! Becoming More
“Don’t forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he wanted….
He lived happily ever after.”
** “We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams.” **
The True Genius here, was the Candy that was Music and Quotes made in the Chocolate Factory (among many Other subliminal offerings) for children and anyone else that would and could pick up on them…..
This viewing experience taught me that there was more to movies and music than meets the eyes, and to always be mindful, open and observant, that anything, anything can be a life lesson, if you believe.
MB93
Ancient Knowledge
This is what remaining of my old website. It was very large and extensive covering tons of different materials. It had been installed with All the bells and whistles, maybe one-day day I will find it and reactivate it
Ouija
Come through the veil
Ouija
Heavy humid
Crisp velvet staleness
Cool air drops
To mystic bones
Talk to me
Contact me
Come through the veil
of time and death
Touch me
Hold me
Crossing letters
back and forth
Yes or No
Fox trot dance
Across the board
Through Spiritualists
Promises made
I call on thee
Have Patience
Worth of gold
Mysterious Oracle
Can you answer me
Anubis
Horus
Osirus
The riddle of the Sphinx
Received through
My planchette heart
Finger tips
Soft
Await your answer
Zoso smiles
From behind a feigned mask
Watching
Laughing
Waiting
The Hierophant
The Hierophant
Seated on a throne
Forevermore
Between two mighty pillars
One
Law / Liberty
The other
Obedience / Disobedience
The actions of contradiction
The Hierophant
Wears a triple crown
A purple gown
Embossed with golden revelry
He holds the keys
To Heaven
That rest at his feet
He is the Pillar
Of
The Power
Conventional Traditions
The representation of marriage
In the lives
of boy and girl
forever bonded
Through arrangement
Chosen for money
Land
or
Peace
The Hierophant
Can be the teacher
In learning
Counsellor
who will help
The
Oracle of ancient Greece
With Answers
To questions
That both young and old
More than curious
May ask
Standing Proud
Upright in his position
He is the Educator
High Priest of nuptials
Offering counsel
or advice
As he looks down
Upon his reflection
He sees himself
In
Another position
One head towards the sky
One head below
Seeming to shine
Into the earth’s shell
Here!!!
Within this puddle of madness
He is the Abuse of power
A mental breakdown
A folly with Riches
Destroyer of trust
Ending relationships
And
The
Rejection
of sacred
family
Values
Pocket Full of Gold
Pocket Full of Gold
She got me trippin’ on a wire
Blind in my third eye no blink
Can’t wink hidden in my trousers top of my head can’t think I’m dizzy in feral emotions Tom cat can’t look back straight forward deep penetrating thoughts melting my mind as I rise to the occasion with the realization that I can’t truly ever get you out of my head(s) I want to consume you take all of you in fee like smooth velvet jazzz between your thighs I can’t deny or even hide how could I? Standing erect at attention not to mention pitching a tent he’ll bent on trying Not to let myself cream what I seen if you know what I mean cuz I’m down Down to go DOWN on you and lose myself give you everything all of it front and center from behind pushing and taking and sliding like tigers on Vaseline I mean I don’t want to quit it I would love to hit it full on to the root bite your lip lost in your eyes pulling your hair show me you don’t care cuz you are like me fucking Krazeeee wild I believe but have to warn you, bout’ stamina I ain’t gonna lie to ya if you wanna do it for hours, that’s what I got for ya… are you down? I want it to be. I want to Feel You I want you inside Me! Quid Pro Quo
This for that
You better believe I wanna go down on you and Fuck you in eight different languages for daze on end… .
MB93
The Poster
I added this poster i made last poetry month!
I included Iris Berry and Ron Whitehead!!!!!!
Some fuckers stole it and put it up in there group, that I’m IN!!!!…. All that writing behind the Real poets (not Facebook “poets”) is real poetry from them!
Under Iris Berry is a poem from her book Two Blocks East of Vine….
Back in ’96 i wrote poetry for a year, went to acting classes where I ended up buying her book while I waited for my bus to take me over the hill , back to Hollywood….. On the bus I’d read Iris and Bukowski and I’d scratch in a notebook
When I got home, I’d go through cigarettes, bottles of Merlot and beer while banging on my typewriter!
Iris got me to see that life, where I lived, everything was poetry, everything matters, everything can be your next line…
24 years later we became friends, (in 2020) I’m not good at math….
She has been the single biggest living influence of my writing (doing it) ….
She’s Awesome
🙏🏻😇📖✍️
Thanks for reading my epic message
Empty Room
Crickets
Empty Room
Echo Echo Echo
The symphony of
Crickets
And
Tumble weeds
Eighty Year old
Woman’s
Barren womb
There is
No life
Within
These Hollow
Walls
That
Echo Echo Echo
As strangers pass by.
MB93
2022
Hard Soil
Hard Soil
The sun beats down Hard and
Heavy like baked clay bricks.
Burning Hot against his neck
Shoulders, and the breadth of his back, searing pain becomes numb over time of lengthy exposure.
Vibrant red Red like a beet from exposure, He is close to the earth, tilling her dry almost concrete soil. Chipping here, scraping there, preparing the cultivation of New life…
food and seed for generations to come and follow. So one day they too can learn the ways of their ancestors.
MB93
Summit of the Crest
The great take over
Summit of the Crest
There is danger in her written word
She’s the Queen of Queens with Aphrodite smile
She’ll cut you down in a moments notice and leave you there to die
True beauty is locked away
From male ego and false promises
I feel her language deep in my bones
We share secret bonds no one could ever understand
Pages turn
Poets burn
Like kindling
Like Salem witches
Fight Fire
with Fire
She’ll come for you
She’ll take out all
Them bitches
Chainsaw smile
Arsenic tongue
Cast iron armour
You better run
I am in awe
She makes me feel alive
The Better Sex that takes
No Shit!
I see Her
I see … Me
I see that We
are the Same
I am humble enough to recognize
That i am better with her in my life
My words
Her words
Dance together
In sexual union
Giving New Life
To poetic fusion
We
Are the dreams
That few can dream
We are King and Queen
Beyond Make Believe
We share the blood
Of the Beats
Of Iggy PoP
Of Lou Reed
Of David Bowie
The New York Dolls
The Dead Kennedys
Of The Buzzcocks
East Coast / West Coast
The great take over
You can Run and Hide
But there ain’t no cover
The deluge is a coming’
A Tsunami wave
The rain will fall
nd’ Wash the Shit away
LA connection
NY style
You can’t block
What you can’t have
Or walk the miles
Voices echoes from
The Phantom Zone
Follow me?
Or leave me alone
I spy with my “little” eye
Schoolyard antics that make
Boys cry
Blues NEWS
wear the Noose
Hung up pretending
You got a clue
Porcelain skin
Velvet thighs
The mystery behind
Those eyes
I’ve seen more
Than I could share
Her perfect body
Her luscious hair
My tongue trading secrets
Between her pink lips
I would drown myself
Between her tight hips
Words are our bond
Our RESPECT for each other
My weakness my longing
My secret uncovered…..
MB93
****************************
Original Poem:
The sound of Cupid
from afar, the impossible
blue of a lover saying goodbye
A young girl standing
over a brink…
taking a chance to be loved
.
Now her ribcage billows
as she cries in her room…
taking her pillow and holding it close, hugging it to her chest
her body ends where his begins
…back to where she started;
knowing neither could ever
really be together
She stares at the ceiling, Daddy brings her lemon honey tea, he asks what’s wrong
“A silver surfer sliced my heart with hardly a care”
.
Maria Crest
.
*****************************
Collaboration:
Silver Surfer
The sound of Cupid
echoes from afar, the
impossible blue of a lover
saying goodbye
A young girl stands
over a brink…
taking a final chance
to be loved
.
Her ribcage hollow
she dies inside…
a little more each moment
that passes by
Fetal position against the wall
holding onto fragile pieces of
sanity not wanting it to be true:
her body ends where his began
…back to where she once started;
knowing all along
that there was no hope
That it was damned
neither could
or should
ever
really be together
She stares at the ceiling,
Spiderweb lines etched a over her
Father knows something is off
from downstairs he brings her lemon honey tea, he asks what’s wrong
“A silver surfer sliced my heart with hardly a care”
Father
without words
.
mc²
.
Queen Bessie 👑
Queen Bessie 👑
Alone
Wrapped in a thermal blanket of despair fingers knotted like a rusted bench vice in some drunken Mechanic’s shop
A Real tar baby.
Getting her fixes popping more loaded balloons than a New York clown on crack.
PoP PoP PoP
Another then another
Then another
She may be Thick and
Full of shade but you could Still make out each leathered scar that built up on Her like a thick wall of papier-mâché
Most called her Queenie, some Queen Bee, night after night coming ’round for her honey and More. She got it All. A regular three ring circus of tricks and treats. Someone usually smiles a rotted grill tooth grin and winks “if you Know what I Mean” they’d wheeeeze… coughing up phlegm and lung
She Kept up a Fine House.
During the day, half put together, armed to the teeth in bleach and elbow grease. She could clean a kitchen spit shine a shitter, ain’t no one better at what Aunt Bessie does not No One!
When the sun drops and the moon come out to play and all them street Boyz wanna Dance … That’s when Miss Bessie shines most BRIGHT! She all Electric She Full of moves She still teaching dem’s old Dogs New tricks ‘nd when to come round for chow
Live or die,
some fools never come back up for air, all limp with a smile and another “go on git him on outta here ‘for someone sees that shit”, while counting the crumbled fist full of green Benjamins for some chumps final Kick
Neon sign buzzzz
Was the red carpet rolled out for many o’ men that just called themselves John. We never asked no questions and thought how unimaginative all these local jokers parents must’ve been namin’ all dem kids the same like that.
Miss Bessie was a self mad Jeckle and Hyde. By mornin’ workin’ cleanin’ house off the corner of Jefferson and Genesee. By night she be all Naked, confident a regular Cleopatra of the den. Holding on to her ol’ python she dun had for years now, become part of the show, added a little extra “Spook” to the fest. And Boy she was Thirsty, she could drink All them Boyz Up (in a single gulp if need be) ‘nd have room for More like it be nuthin’ but s thang.
Winter nights got So damn Cold on them Buffalo streets in ol’ New York State… Aunt Bessie never needed No “Real” sign to lure the dumber of the sexes in. She got it All right there and the word of mouth travels as far as far can be
Doctors Lawyers Dentists Drug Dealers and virgin school kids alike All wanted a piece of Her pie. Some said it was made of VooDoo magic, the way her wetness caught the light all hypnotizing, tastin’ like Jerk chicken and Jambalaya. All sprawled out, bits nd pieces all freely exposed on her overstuffed comfy couch,she delivered what both men and boys alike were a Kravin’
One by one, Two by two
Fuck sometimes three by four Bessie would knock em All out of the Ball Park, no worse for the wear
All Slick and Thick
like bathing in a vat o’ Vaseline. She knew they were down for the count, adios amigos for the rest of the night and more than likely, into the better part of the Next day as well.
She once told me about the thought of lockin’ up her Shoppe.
Closin’ the Thick Brown doors of Her Inn. Maybe calling out one last final night and then moving on back to Louisiana, ‘nd get back to her voodoo rootwork all Ms Marie Laveaux practitioning style, sometimes the dead make better conversation than those that insist that they’re alive.
Somehow I never think that them dreams took. She be up all late at night sometimes… lying back, looking on up to the ceiling, watchin’ that dang ol’ fan spin round nd’ round. She be mindlessly fondling some old grey man’s flaccid member. Not particularly conscious of raising it to the fullness of a partial masthead. Things were building up and going down and I just knew, I could feel it in the Buffalo cold in my bones and soul.
If she didn’t go and Blow this muthafucker chubby chaser leadin’ double life piece o’ shit checking his bags, leaving em at the door way, it just might as well Be some other fool that come along payin’ homage to the queen of sexual mysticism formally of New Orleans
One hand with cock the other cocked and loaded she had casually reached behind an ol’ vermillion egyptian cotton pillow brandishing an ice cold Cold Colt 44 Anaconda, Revolver, ready to blow a hole through this shoe’s ugly head…
Someone’s gotta pay the piper at the end of the day, see?
*MB93&Crèst*
2022
All That Glitters
The “complete version” of
All That Glitters
*Book link Below*
************************************
All That Glitters
Black bird sings, under her wing
There’s no safety in the silence carried upon the wind
Her pain and misfortune of a
Life denied a chance of breath
Haunting her thoughts now
Filled with heavy regrets
Red spots appeared
Along with the fear
So vulnerable with the feeling
Of helplessness
No cries
No tears
No tomorrow’s would come
Innocence lost
Taken away
Dizzy
Frenzied
Panicked with Fear
Such conflicting emotions she felt
As she lay there
Digesting this trauma
Oh the loss of a child
The pain within and without her
Greater than any fire
Painful tears
Fall upon an altar
Of torment brimming with
Lost hope
Shadows envelop her emotions
Like a heavy cloak
No words, only grief
Set deep within her eyes
Underneath the blood moon night
Alone she would scry Goodbye?
With bated breath
She waits for signs
An absence hung thick in the air
To recreate life from death
To commune with her child beyond
Desperate
Frantic
Focused
Five candles placed in a circle
The focal point
A silver spoon to be gifted
Upon her arrival
Never given
Nor received
Her essence
Her conjuring
Unite
“I call to thee
Oh my dearest child unborn
Deny, Cheat Death, Come to me
My heartache is the altar
That I sacrifice myself upon
Take my blood upon your name
Hear my lonely cry
Calling out for you
You are Blessed with strength
To break through the veil
My child, my daughter
From the other side
Come to your mother
As I summon thee
Cross now the great divide
Together we shall be whole
Summoned back by these words
You are my Love
My Heart
My Soul”
Silence and warmth swept
Through the daughter’s room
In a world that she was to play
A dark electric smell
Wafted through the air
Lucid visions of a new born’s smile
The child she lost gasped for air
Breathing life into its tiny lungs
The love that she’s felt has just begun
Through
Intention
Desire
and
MagicK
Book Link Here! 93/93
MB93
Something Witchy This Way Comes https://a.co/d/aPRF9Mq
Silver Surfer
Silver Surfer
The sound of Cupid
echoes from afar, the
impossible blue of a lover
saying goodbye
A young girl stands
over a brink…
taking a final chance
to be loved
.
Her ribcage hollow
she dies inside…
a little more each moment
that passes by
Fetal position against the wall
holding onto fragile pieces of
sanity not wanting it to be true:
her body ends where his began
…back to where she once started;
knowing all along
that there was no hope
That it was damned
neither could
or should
ever
really be together
She stares vacant, at the ceiling
Spiderweb lines etched above her
Instinctually Father knows something is seriously off
From downstairs he brings her lemon honey tea, he asks what’s wrong
“A silver surfer sliced my heart with hardly a care”
Father
without words
.
Maria Crest & MB93= mc²
Red
Beneath the crimson sky
Red
This is my home
Beneath the crimson sky
Wading through nightmares
Bathed in Holy Water of theives
Majestic forests vermillion nights
A thousand years pass before the next
blood is spilt
Children gather in ancient circles
Gathering the rites and sacred hymns
Scarlet drops fall from heavy rain clouds
The wind carries the hopeless souls far off into the vast distance of remorse
From within these cold thick walls
Voices cry and whisper shallow warnings
Lingering shadows against barren walls contort and dissipate before my swollen eyes of remorse
The bell rang throughout the town
Ushering in the new era of awareness
The union of fear turned to fires of anger
Stoking mortal fallings before they burn themselves into heathen ash
I’ve seen this before
A thousand times or more
The depravity the insanity repeats
Again Again Again Again Again Again
Ultimately there is no arc of learning
No great tales of redemption to claim
My spirit lingers on forever more
The evening sky begins my dance
I hunger only for the remembrance of a hundred yesterday’s or more
I take only what I need to carry me on
I choose to rest through the arriving sunrise
Red
Is the colour
From which I dine
And this…. Is my home
MB93
2022
Avenue of Desolate Angels
Avenue of Desolate Angels
The chill pulled the warmth
from the souls of their feet
Each step rang out in a silent clamor
Pain echoed from heel to toe heel to toe
Trapped in Hell between numb and nightmare
Plastic cardboard fortresses lined the broken avenue
Makeshift Fires kept abandoned souls alive
Heat is like oxygen necessary to survive
Subzero razors shave skin to the bone
Newspaper shoe liners double duty holding warmth and
filling holes thin as tissue tread on concrete miles
Yellow haired angel halo of misfortune…
Won’t you tell me your name?
Heavy Hollow eyes don’t say a word and I recognize the smell of
death from childhood memories
One by One along the boulevard a breeding ground of empty hopelessness steals the lost faces of humanity
Has their path to salvation been silenced choked snuffed out of existence with each Hot Shot stuck between the toes?
A river of tears could fall from the city sky and nothing could wash away the American caste system of corporate failure
Here are the dreggs of society
You can here them howl upon arrival and death
The voiceless prisoners of fate don’t hang their heads in shame
There is a strength purity in freedom living off the electric grid the other side of stone walled cells built for comfort but little more
There is no governor no true kings of these streets only feeble bodies
made of piss and blood
We make up the New generation we are the roaches of atomic explosions
We are the survivors that don’t want to live
We exist somewhere between memory and death
We’ve seen the signs read the truth that hides within the lies we have been privy to the knowledge that the end will come
No bunkers underground or castles in the sky elitist survival guide will save you from the coming day
White Light so Bright perceived within our second sight we believe No we Know there is no true escape for the truly damned.
We sit on curbside thrones
Never underestimating our lot in life we may not appear Noble
but we are clean within
The money changers law makers sinners on the hills
The ones that point fingers
Gag with disgust
They are the marked ones the great deluge will wash away
We are the meek
The silence of society
We are the hunger that no one wants to feed
We are the reflections that go bump in the night
The tell tale stories of boogie men hidden underneath the bed
We are the faces that no one wants to recognize
We are the condemnation that is the binding of their soul
We are the Avenue of Desolate Angels
Welcome the rain
Welcome the rain…
MB93
2022
Doc
Doc
Boys boys in Levi jeans
Cut offs, too short too long
Frayed
The devil appears in phases
Ripple Noir Fantastic
Channel Zero static
The constant buzzzzz rains
lingering
Dashboard smiles
Nubile skin
Sweaty elbows stick on vinel
Neon stars reflect in the eyes
A warmth of loneliness grows
Parascope eye consumed
Within the vacuum of lost souls
Redemption builds
Amongst the throbbing void
And is released in a halo of
Grandeur
MB93
2022
93 Truth
I recognize your light
Your gifts
93
Truth
I Have experienced and gone through Twin Flame reality
It is first hand true knowledge that I share…
you cannot change the Will of others
Through
MagicK
Such indifference to my reality, spirituality, and works…..
I am nothing but a compilation of complaints….. disappointments
Horrible reception
This life
But I still see the world through fresh MagicK eyes
That is part of what drives me
That is my oxygen
Helping others
I die each day
Growing closer to the eternal
Returning to the source of ALL
I will, we Will return from where we came
Energy
Universal consciousness
Divine essence
From where we reside
To our true path
We must perform
Spiritual Alchemy
And
Understand our place
Within the darkness
And
The light
I have found my path
Not through belief
Dogma
But
Process of elimination
Finding truth
Even hidden within lies
I recognize your light
Your gifts
You are more real than a false messiah that people line up to worship
A saviour “saves”
Does Not exist or tolerate to be worshipped
That… is ego
I recognize that Divine spark within you
That is why I encourage you….
“Nor do they light a lamp and then
put it under a bushel basket;
It is (instead)
set upon on a lamp stand,
where it gives light to all
in the house.
your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify ….
Not as much to a “heavenly father”…
but to others
that they may recognize their Own light and see truth
To Share A Spiritual freedom
For “them”
to Understand that Love
is the
Law…..
93/93
THE ALBATROSS
THE ALBATROSS
They say that beauty lies…
In the eyes of the beholder
And yet lay in silence here
Naked before you prostrate
I pretend I feel Feel your heart
As I receive the hollow echoe
Deep within your sordid bones
Your will reverberating angst
Your fear breeds wildfire wounds
Your cause is less than empty
My nausea all too Real
The autumn breeze carries the
Sound of children laughing amongst thieves and ravens alike
The curtain’s drawn revealing lies
Heady whispers between the sheets
Dirt and pain spread like omens
Ancient voices bleed for the chosen
There are no answers No reflection
No acts of saintly forgiveness left
Her eyes once held an innocence
That was stolen with a kiss of death
Poison skin shadows crawl in a
Concrete world of desolation
How many have come before me
Buried their shame at your feet
Lost themselves howling insane
Projecting portraits that don’t exist
MB93
2022
Candy
Candy
The Lower East Side clothed him
Concrete
Bathed his soul
He dropped candy
like Jesus gave away fish
He takes not saves souls
This Fat Cat Groovy Groomer
Spread out Fifty dollar thunder
clouds like peacock feathers
Reeling in and stealing
Sixteen year old hookers
Jailbait on crack
drugstore prostitutes
fed
from his gaude
Over jeweled
primate hands
A real Mr. East River
Big BIG Smile
Oversized teeth and
LIPS
His breath wreaking of
Cigars and Scotch
He takes his scarred
Brittle digits
And finds his way to
The warmth her whetness
She can’t help but cum
He licks his lips
And says
“You’ll do fine”
Spanks her on the ass
And sends her off
To collect the ca$h cow
Score
Still coming down off Oxy
Walkin’ like she just got Off a vicious turnstyle
The NY skyscrapers
Loomining over her
like guillotine
Blades
Here’s to money
Here’s to America
Here’s to Mom and Dad
Wouldn’t they be proud
Wouldn’t They be proud
I’m doing it
I’m out on my own
She looks down
Into her dirty palm
Squeezes the crumbled
Fifty dollar bill
And slowly
Slides it into her
Back pocket
To give back to
Him
Later
mc²
2022
Tough Luck
Tough Luck
White trash whore
Red headed step child
Knock off Chuck’s with holes
And broken laces
High waters
Stained tank tops
Kool Aid smile…
If she could force one
7th grade rumor mill
In full effect
There ain’t no judge or jury
GUILTY AS CHARGED
GUILTY AS CHARGED
Walk the halls in Shame
Custodian’s sideways glances
At her more than ample Chest
Voyeurs
Destroyers
One day employers
See and feel the victim within
Fly caught in life
Spider drawn to prey
Cycles
Recycled
Thank You mom
For sharing this fucked up
Dysfunction with me…
Watching cartoons
Playing in dirt
Experimenting with Fire
She’s still a virgin
Tommy Lorre
Lunch time bully
He’s the one
That shit talked the shit
Forever labeled loose
A Trainwreck queen
Collector of Sea men
If Boys want what
They can’t have…
They create lies to save face
Lil’ Shelly Belly
With pearl due drops
On her chest and face
Five or six
Standing over her
Laughing Finished
The train came to an end
Star
Star
The warmth and genuine solitude were welcomed friends at the end of a typical hectic in and out of costume, on and off stage, everything rush rush rush day.
She was more than ready to embrace this moment, to catch a beat, catch her breath, have a moment of clarity all to herself that she might be able to collect her thoughts and digest today’s events.
4:30 am comes all to early, even on a Wednesday morning and you have a 6:30 am shoot.
Down Town, New York City, “They” say this city never sleeps, but the wind chilled view from her 42nd floor balcony begged to tell a completely different story.
It was as if she had awoken to the great rapture. Not a living soul could be seen scurrying through the streets, not even any panhandlers or people crashed out sleeping on concrete park benches. “Why was it so quiet?”
By the time the shoot was winding down and it was about lunchtime, 12pm EST. for those in the know. Everything had returned to a normal full swing hustle and bustle time to get shit done kind of day.
Flash bulbs ‘popped’, designer gowns swung on and off the racks, pro pick fashion tape stuck and unstuck, exfoliating the most private of places pretty much filled her day amongst the constant directions of “smile!”, to the left a bit, now one with your arms flung into the air! that’s it, now pull it in, Own it, be You, Bigger, now sultry” constant requests and demands.
To the outside world it appears radiant. People think it’s fun and perfect, but somehow a long the way it wears you down from within.
She just knew that she got lucky. So many girls and women alike have given up everything, even literally died to be where she was at today.
When 4:00 pm arrived, it has already just about been a 12 hour day, and things were just getting started. “So much to do. So little time.” That pretty much felt like her personal mantra as of late.
Now she was off to go shopping, shopping for more expensive clothes, expensive shoes, expensive jewelry, it not that she hated it she had to admit, but after awhile it did lose the brightness of the glamour, and dimmed the excitement a bit.
It wasnt her time, her money or even for her! It all came with the strings of being in the position she was in. She preferred to think of it in terms of being a paid intern. One day, one day soon, she will be free from the circuit and free to indulge however she…
sees fit.
MB93
2002
James Michael Francis
“I heard the NEWS today Oh Boy” 🎶 Beatles
“There’s a sign on the wall
But she wants to be sure
‘Cause you know, sometimes words
have two meanings”
Led Zeppelin
Rattled by the force
Of the inevitable voice
I remember anxiously
As the first day of school begun
I remember the crisp air
I remember orange leaf piles
I remember that you
We’re always there to comfort me
We would hunt toads and tadpoles exploring abanded pig farms
filled with rats and snakes
With the Golden Ring of Mordor
And you, armed with Sting
I wore the cape of invisibility
Fearing that I did not fit in
It was us that lit fire for Balentine
We were intouch of ancient ways
You my friend were
always there for me
Even in heart as these years
Slowly slipped away.
You taught me how to ride a bicycle a fancy ten speed Schwinn…
I remember how the brakes
Never truly grasped
I remembered danger
at every stop
I remember when you were off to war, and I didn’t understand….
We were not defending Ourselves
so it was much deeper
and murkier than That
I heard you had a wife
And sired a beautiful child as well ‘never did get to meet them and the next I knew, you were on your own
I’m sorry
I’m sorry I could not find you
And be with you as you were there for me..
No more adventures
Or being able to laugh at life
At Monty Python or silly things
I heard you in the end that you were alone
With your PTSD
ANOTHER Live Soldier lost to war
And YOU had conquered Smaug!
I’m so sorry my friend of friends
You could Never have been replaced
I am true
I Am true to say that I loved you
It’s not an easy Word for me
To say
But … When I say it , I mean it!
I would have taken an bullet for you, life is so damn fleeting I cherish every moment.
What made you do it
Can you let me in to your mind! One Hundred and Fifty Miles an hour… Armed with more that an liter of Scotch and illegal contraband
You knew the roads, the hair pin turns … You were riding into Hell
No looking back. I read that you hydroplaned some one hundred thirty feet off your motorcycle into another grassy knoll
And you
Too unrecognizable at first glance
At least you had
both your ID and Dog Tags
My mind still reeling
In your pain.
I have One more
“I need to say I love you”
and that we shall
Meet again
We will return
One day
Back to
the Shire
MB93
2022
Black Moon
of the martyr Jeanne d’Arc
Black Moon
silence falls like
ill children
gathered together
in bonfire vanity
rats spread the word
of desolate angels
rising in black smoke
becoming one in
a single neon breath
lavender hills roll
the violet sky radiates
anticipation of what
is but not to be seen
Invisible tides pull
the zenith point in
waves
words and intentions
carry more strength
manifestation, desire
secret tongues escape
the lips from the coven
Harness the power of
the new black moon
flames dance in honour
of the martyr Jeanne d’Arc
the matriarch of the will
of another face of god
MB93
2022
Joan
Joan
She
Draws a final breath
Filled with heat and flame
Nothing but the word can
Touch her
The voices
The calling
Her destiny
Manifested
A child against
A kingdom
Tortured Abused
And worse
She spit in the eyes
Of corruption
Of Religious Order
Patriarchal Bullshit
She smiled and waved
And said Fuck YOU
To All that conspired
Against her…
You back stabbing PIG
I Called you Lord
and you
Were
(Never a Saviour)
So Mote it Be
MB93
2022©
The Grass. The Sand. The Ocean.
The Grass. The Sand. The Ocean.
Blue horizon with white crests
as far as the eye can see.
The sun plays peek a boo through clouds all day.
The tide pushes and pulls with the wind, and the scent of salt water never truly rinses away.
This is my Home.
Let it be forever.
Plant me here alongside an old oak,
on top of a good hill with a view and
together we will admire all that is this
Isle.
Seasons bring change,
bring change in the weather.
I feel the cold haunting cut deep
into my marrow. I am not helpless.
I am not alone or afraid. I am content
to be part of this great solitude.
People throughout the ages have searched for the meaning of life.
I can feel myself smile against the breeze. I am among the few, with humble visions of grandeur.
I know exactly who I am and where
I’m meant to be.
This is my truth.
I live on an island,
it comes to an end
at the Sea. A place
that finally just …… Stops
Like we all do
When it is indeed
Our time
For
Stephen Michael Whitter .
Third Rail Lines
.
Finding her way back to purgatory
Aboard the L train
Somewhere between Eighth Avenue and
Chelsea street
Raindrops and decaying buildings blur together in
High speed motion
picture silence
through fingerprint
markings of cold public
transportation windows
Lost in the memories of yesterday’s from Rockaway Parkway and Coney Island
She had once surrendered
to his limp
waxen style…
He was never the mystery
that he thought he was…
I heard he studied poetry
at UCLA…
Un dépotoir prétentieux de vacances littéraires
a literary prostitute,
in green and guilt,
void, inconvenient and artless
a masquerade of nothingness…
his words…
placid
piss and shit
Walking by
I somehow managed
To step in it
A pile
Of his ego
.
Maria Crest
&
MB93
2022
.
Writing 101 – The Basic Plan
I.was about 32 when I retired from ALL creativity. Becoming more than a recluse, and solely involved with my family until 2020
Being bipolar probably, granted me with visions of grandeur, uniting the world to be a better place! Unity through community. Many voices coming together to create a singular vision, one of creativity. Harmony! I sound like an idealistic hippie on crack! But it may have been the negative social pressure that was being (and is) forced down the throats of the American people in the form of Donald Trump and his Nazi MAGA/ REPUBLICAN Party!
I developed The Calling …
The name speaks for itself. People hear the calling to find themselves, nurture their talents become a better world wide society!
Aaaand that’s when I took to social media, every platform I could think of, and a long the way
I started researching how to get my message out.
And of course if people Are going to listen… You need to BE someone!
That’s where the Bowie-ism comes in.
And the Spiritual Alchemy
And the natural magicK
It’s all connected …
Who are the people going to listen too?
The nameless, faceless prophet New messiah on the street corner or (unfortunately) Donald Trump.. and we Both know the answer to That!
That piece of PEACE is what ushers in the good, the lending a hand, the support for others, the empathy. Unfortunately…
Through my eyes, a HUGE Most of the “self proclaimed poets” SUCK! and they Suck because , one of the Biggest reasons is selfishness and Ego!
They can’t see beyond themselves to write anything worth while, nothing that speaks to Others… Basically, it’s masterbation using vocabulary and believing that their shit don’t stink!
Why in god’s name am I rambling!??? Oh for Fucks Sake! (I will Never claim the tie or where the hat of “poet”) I personally find it Too Pretentious! Their Ego proceeds themselves (and I Know that You Know quite a few of these buggers)
Basically to shut myself up
I maintain an aloof presence, not get too involved, stay humbled, help others, always return kindness, be genuine, understand that your thoughts create and define you, be aware! Almost forgot that one! These are a good list of what makes Success! Whether in quality of life or even riches, here within these words, Karma will find a Happy home!
MB93!
Warlock. Witch. Vampyre.
The sisters three
In my eyes
You shall see
The power of
The sisters three
Nature, order
Pure intention
Command the Law
Of Attraction
Earth, Water
Air and Fire
Control the element
Of Pure Desire
Warlock. Witch.
Vampyre. Moon.
The mourning comes
All too soon
We are creatures
Of the night
Our bond begins
In the twilight
MB93
2022
Dust and Bones
Of two Wolves dancing
Caught in leopard spandex
Friday night
Crickets singing in the breeze
The world is in such a rush
And NoOne is going anywhere
Bonfire Vanities weep in escrow
And Junk smiles in my veins
Lucid moments cum before Nod
Drifting off into oblivion
Lost Boys jack off
Wiping their hands
On their thighs
Licking spew
From the corners
Of their eyes
She opened up her thighs
and Death smiled
The echo from the chasm
Reverberates orgasms
Her claim to fame
A royal whore
Once held as a concubine
Of Ramses the Not So Great
She
inched her skratchy wool
Houndstooth skirt upwards
Slowly revealing more skin
Exposing time…
Road maps, and blue rivers
Vericose veins
Satellite images upon
her legs
Dry wall cracks
Sand paper Howls
Hollow walls filled
With Plastic dreams
And
Liquid debauchery
boom Boom BOOM
The rattle and hum
Of two Wolves dancing
Caught in leopard spandex
Fighting for their lives
Their ohhhh So
Lonely
Existence
Wood Cellar Vinyl
Afternoon Sun
.
The afternoon sun
Beats down on all
that are exposed
sittin’ on Brighton Line
Slowly descending
Then silently disappearing
motionless beyond our visceral cognitive perception
This dirty City Skyline
paints murals of abandoned hope here we raise pigeons as cabbage we exchange dreams for sexual favours. Holly still haunted by her absences of yesterday this call
home
Huddled in doorways
The shadows move
Sus skirting tragic
unwashed eyes survey
pitch black souls
half dead, void of life
light cigarettes
Stolen from liquor store
countertops and Punjab
the 24/7 cashier
Just don’t give a shit
(better to not get involved)
Outside
… sparks fly from
magnesium wheels
clouds of thunder roar
under neon moon-light
deception
Cherry-red polish
vinyl seats pushed back
endless desire consume
Speed* Sex* Wanton Desire
Cold eyes watch violent
images of Pornographic
scenes of sadist erotica
Discarded polaroids
close up shots of seventies
wooden paneled walls
PVC plastic
Blood splattering
Blue knotted hands…
Swollen and bruised
fingernail bed lesions
Clawing for freedom
Freedom from life
Itself
Mute whimpers,
pathetic sobbing
Abandoned hope
Reels it’s ugly head
A beating heart
Exhumed
placed within
an aluminum box
Hidden away
Just
another token
Relic
Somewhere
underneath
a Blue Movie
Cast in the
Production
in a serial
Manhattan
Dream
.
Maria Crest/ MB93
.
The Keep
Lucifer’s Retreat
The Keep By
*(Matthew Bowers)*~93
posted by The Editor on December 21, 2021
Journey
Forward
Onward
Into frozen
Abyss
Krazee miles
Stretch beneath
Icicle hung sky
Insanity
Calamity
Await
Not far
Up winding
Road
Decades and decades
Worth of damned
Thirsty Souls haunt
The front step
Overlooking
Infernal cliffs
Innocence to be lost
To play and dance
In dirty martini ways
Across ballroom floors
Painted with dust
Orchestral thoughts echo
Within bleeding fractured
Minds
Brilliant hues of yesterday’s
Memories come twisted
In reflections of desire and sin
A cold front landed
Setting the stage of isolation
Carnage and carnal nights
A puppet
A pawn
A mere vessel for lease
Trudging onward
Belial whispers begin to haunt
Crack creeking steps
Mounting heavy
Heady thoughts
Conspire and pull
Consuming
Ego
Self
Identity
Left is the husk
Of a forlorn man
Unknowingly ready
To stoke the fires
Of
Mephistophelean
Pergatory
No rest among the spirits
That feed and tear upon the soul
The keeper comes
Key in hand
Unlocking Dante’s Underworld
Up on the Hill
The House of Raven 🐦⬛ 