spider hacksaw eats & is eaten

Lick the stars, lick the stars
hanging from their hook
I like the way you light the way you
I like the way you look

Lick the stars, lick their scars
Heaven gross, oh burning bright
bleach eternal day,
then lick the stars lick their scars
lick them all away

Lick the sunrise, lick the dawn
lick those scarred stars
until they’re gone

I like the way you light the way
I like the way you look
I like the way you light the way
I like how you astound
now burn those bridges burn those bridges
burn your bridges down

can’t eat candy from inside out
can’t smell pig from butt to snout
watch the stars smile and pout
this is what we dream about

Hell is a cold frozen hope
around my nervous wreck
the stars are all they ever were
a mindless empty blitzkrieg blur
wearing all their glitz and fur
around those gilded necks

Lick the stars, lick the stars
succumb to their glory bright
lick their scars, lick their scars
let heaven smear your sight

glory be, glory be
glory be for you and me

as we burn out tonight

glory be remembering
as we ascend an arcane life

the candle flame’s my glowing heart
its wax my golden skin
melt me down to nothing
so I may live again

Lick the stars, lick the stars
hanging from their hooks
I like the way they light the way
I like the they look

©(glory be)(by spider hacksaw)(2013)

“Tend to others to mend yourself.”   —spider hacksaw

I’ve got a whole new vision of myself
’tis made of marigolds and fleshless wealth
would you like to see me wear my crown of thorn now

out on the town
we did the best we could
to bring the world to its knees

down on the ground
we shed blood for good
to bring the world to our needs

what I’m about to say is
what I meant to say was
I’m dying to give
I’m dying to love

what I’m about to say is
what I meant to say was
I’m dying to live
I’m dying to love

ain’t it a shame what we do to each other
friend, stranger, neighbor, lover
ain’t it a shame the way we hurt each other
friend, enemy, stranger, lover

put us to out rest
for what tomorrow brings
put us to our rest
til we become better beings

I’ve got a whole new version of myself
’tis made of cherry grins and flesh of elf
would you like to see me bring the clown of thorns down

out on the town
we prayed to the druid
to bring the world what it needs

out in the crowd
we preyed upon the druid
to bring the world what it needs

what I’m about to say is
what I meant to say was
I’m killing to give
I’m killing to love

what I’m about to say is
what I meant to say was
I’m killing to live
I’m killing to love

ain’t it a shame what we do to each other
friend, stranger, neighbor, lover
ain’t it a shame the way we hurt each other
friend, enemy, stranger, lover

what I meant to say was
what I meant to say was
what I meant to say was
I’m killing
I’m dying
I’m killing
I’m dying to love

©(clown of thorns)(spider hacksaw)(2013)

Your beauty bleeds me, Your beauty seeds in me
It needs me not, but still it feeds from me,
eating me alive, from the inside out
It forces its way into me, the bowels of my skull cave,
smashing itself through my baby blues
It cracks into my slice of nice, smattering me
with such kind and delicate
articulate malevolent
vice

I can not hide from it, I can not fight it
I hear it, I smell it, I taste it inside
It gets into my house through the holes in my head
it invades my home, through my attic-eyes
my addict attic-eyes and
i can’t keep them closed from the plight of you,
from the marauding wroughting sight of you
I can not defend myself against the onslaught of you
your ravishing infinite brightness, the shape, the sound, the pale of you,
your raw beauty-noose slithers around my neck, it hangs me
and I choke on your spectral nectar, your juicy god-flesh
I am crippled by the plague of you,
i am trampled and made lame by you

Your beauty infiltrates my bastion
your beauty gets inside and preys upon me,
again and again it gets within, wreaking its pleasant havoc,
it rips the breath from my lungs,
it tears the screams from the cage of my paperweight soul
leaving me crucified and speaking in forked tongues,
your beauty fingers me, it digs itself into me
and plows blades through my wrinkled cognitive meat,
planting the crops of you deep down into my cavernous vault,
where it hunts and grinds, and enshrines itself,
your beauty is my cult, and I am its sacrificial fatted calf
it gathers and scatters everything aimless,
so that nothing else matters except you,
then it searches, and reaches, turmoil turning,
toiling and tilling my sovereign soil into its goblin garden,
where nothing can grow except you

it infects me, it infests me, it wrecks me,
ransacking me for something it needs
Your beauty is so crucial, your beauty is so unreal
Your beauty hurts, and it does not feel,
It bends me, unkind, it twists my mental metal
as shame and twine
your beauty exists only
to hunt and grind

Your beauty is a thief, your beauty is a vandal
It riddles my whole with holes, It unravels my tapestry
It gobbles and devours the paste of me
drinking my thinking to the very last drop of me
Your beauty savages me with its wild scar-fire,
it ravages all of me, for all to see,
for all to see all of me

then it captures and bottles my reedy red muck daub
then it takes it and rattlesnake-shakes it, and rapes it,
my red burgundy blood-globe bauble
and with devout surgical implementation
it plucks the scant kernel of love that I hide, and pilfers it,
leaving me a mottled smear
leaving me a gutted hollow
an abandoned blackened tomb
a chrome shard of hard buzzard tart,
tossed aside to a pile, on a bleak fissured path
leaving me, a collapsed carnival clown
who once upon a time
entertained your beauty’s sin
who can never entertain
your beauty again

Your beauty is a vandal, your beauty is a thief
and I the shrunken carcass
dashed ashore
upon its teeth

( beauty cult )(©) (by spider hacksaw) (copyright 2013)
(thou shalt not covet)

CARGUING : to be verbally demonstrative with oneself or other(s) while driving in a motor vehicle. / used in a sentence(s): “When i was a child my Aunt and Uncle would sometimes cargue about directions as we drove to uncertain vacation locations”. / “On the drive home from Razmataz we got into a vicious cargument and almost hit a cat in the road.”
/ Cargue / Cargument / Carguing /
from WURLT-A-WERDZ by spider hacksaw © (2013)

“Our worlds frolic around mounds and flesh
of new born petty maggot-fly

while angels fall toward heathen’s floor
unaffected nature’s warmth

its earth, its you, its cotton-sky
hidden fast and etched in frost

for blinding fetch and fury gloss
of children’s shat idols glean

they follow-share, screech and froth
for hollow resin folly moth.”

—spider hacksaw (2013) in loving memory of Karen Black, immortal queen, who died in August, Twenty-thirteen.

adulated faction in subcutaneous vessel
worn across the wasteland morgues
fixated saliently appropriate and donned upon
clawed salivary stationary
i sentence, i sense this, i sentence you to this
engraved symmetrical sympathetic symphonies of notion
argued neither here nor not-here but instead
i sentence you to be
i sentence you to thee
i sentence you to be thee
eternally internal

i infiltrate your sight
through eyes blind-dead, shaved by sunlit razor
i follow closely to the rivet-bed
along from where
the lines form calmly corrosive gentle-nulls
i sentence
i sent this
i sentence this
to you

swallow ill fated malignant alignment to the stuttering killing
bark now, creature
feast thine eye fittingly, snug and wipe it
reap the horror-sorrow even more so
from gory cutting boards you’ve made your fettered bed,
spatter-red of rot speckled born-mirth
i traject you, this taunt fist ramshackle station
i bequeath unto you
the doomsday grim-pilgrim

i sentence you to this
i sentence your divine confinement
chained in veins of red vanity
within these whispering walls of wire
within these worn worlds
within these words of war-weed
stitched and tattled upon lime-night
in mockery box
in mockery mocked box
of faulty stealth interior
inferior, inferior

i sent this cleft wisp
i sentence you to this
i sent this inverted sentence kiss
to you
to finish this
our unfinished
business

(© by spider hacksaw/ thou shall not covet)

SINISTER STYLE   /   ©

It’s so intoxicating the things you’re saying about the way the world works, but I can’t seem to separate the right words from the verbal left hooks, or your true intentions beneath those good looks, it’s a terrible crime how the mind lurks, creeping around the corners of some reception, painting it all with a sublime affection, when it’s all just spoken errors and fun house attraction, smoky mirrors feigning perfection, I can ignore it for the time being, pretending to calculate your meaning, pretending your attention is more than scheming, but I can only hide the truth for a little while, there’s something sinister in your style, a neatly buttoned and laced beguile, after all, the scent of your cologne is called Murder Trial, and there’s an art of deception behind that smile, but I can’t seem to turn down the dial and take a call, before I fall, you drink and smoke and tell charming, somewhat alarming jokes, about your past, now we can goof around and laugh, wile away the hours, intimate and vast, but in the end every blue sky dies, and to ignore it forever would be unwise, the art of deception behind your eyes, you wear those sharp silver ties, that look like knives, I should have guessed by the blood red vest, and the pitch black heart upon your jacket crest, but I can’t resist the temptation, I could never say no to a moment of bliss, life all comes down to the last few seconds, and in the end it’s always this, I fall victim to your sweet gift, a fool for your kiss. I can’t resist the hint of love in my own pool of blood, nor the subtle scent of a Murder Trial, so elegantly expressed by the way you’ve dressed for me, in Sinister Style.

(from the musical Mind Asylum/ sung by the Lady Wild to the Martyr de Sodom)