A Spasm of Vitriolic Verses, Hellacious Haiku, Pustulent Poems, Satanic Sonnets, Lupine Limericks and Odious Odes. Read 'em on any device: Tablet, Smartphone, e-Reader, Laptop or Desktop.
Now at Amazon, for 99 measly cents: https://amzn.to/2zH0bJz
Adults-only, read 'em and weep.
Here's a sample:
No minutes were red
The suits were all blue
All heard what was said
About what they should do.
No actions were listed
As open or closed
No task-owners queried
No deadlines imposed.
The guest speaker rose
He got to his feet
Assumed a cool pose
Said “Hi there, I’m Pete!”
That’s what he said
When he got up to speak
No hat on his head
At the meeting that week.
So why was he there
At the Monday team meeting?
Dark suit and great hair
Fake warmth in his greeting?
And what did he say
That well-groomed consultant
On that awful day
What was the resultant?
"Your boss couldn’t be here
He was feeling quite tired
But He asked me to tell you
You’re gone, you’re all fired!
"Not moved or suspended
And not redeployed.
We recommended
Now you’re unemployed."
For those who ...
eBooks by Cosmic Rapture
(for kindle, tablet, smartphone or e-reader.)
NIGHTMERRIES: THE LIGHTER SIDE OF DARKNESS. This so-called "book" will chew you up, spit you out, and leave you twitching and frothing on the carpet. More than 60 dark and feculent fictions (read ‘em and weep) copiously and grotesquely illustrated.
AWAREWOLF & OTHER CRHYMES AGAINST HUMANITY (Vot could be Verse?). We all hate poetry, right? But we might make an exception for this sick and twisted stuff. This devil's banquet of adults-only offal features more than 50 satanic sonnets, vitriolic verses and odious odes. MANIC MEMES & OTHER MINDSPACE INVADERS. A disturbing repository of quirky quotes, sayings, proverbs, maxims, ponderances, adages and aphorisms. This menagerie holds no fewer than 184 memes from eight meme-species perfectly adapted to their respective environments.MASTRESS & OTHER TWISTED TAILS. An unholy corpus of oddities, strangelings, bizarritudes and peculiaritisms, including but not limited to barbaric episodes of herring-flinging and kipper-kissing. A cacklingly bizarre read that may induce fatal hysteria. Not Recommended! FIENDS & FREAKS and serpents, dragons, devils, lobsters, anguished spirits, hungry ghosts, hell-beings, zombies, organ-grinders, anti-gods, gods and other horse-thieves you wouldn't want to meet in a dark cosmos. Immature Content! Adults Maybe.HAGS TO HAGGIS. An obnoxious folio featuring a puke of whiskey-soaked war-nags, witches, maniacs, manticores and escapegoats. Not to mention (please don't!) debottlenecking and desilofication, illustrated. Take your brain for a walk on the wild side. Leave your guts behind.Do you believe in unicorns?
in vampires tall and smiling?
in witches, wizards, druids’ blizzards,
wood-nymphs so beguiling?
Are you in fact an alien?
a monster green and pimply?
a freak, a fright, a barrow-wight,
a corpse whose limbs lie limply?
If so then go to meet your friends
across the cold black river
perhaps they’ll kiss your bloodless lips
or ...
eBooks by Cosmic Rapture
(for kindle, tablet, smartphone or e-reader.)
NIGHTMERRIES: THE LIGHTER SIDE OF DARKNESS. This so-called "book" will chew you up, spit you out, and leave you twitching and frothing on the carpet. More than 60 dark and feculent fictions (read ‘em and weep) copiously and grotesquely illustrated.
AWAREWOLF & OTHER CRHYMES AGAINST HUMANITY (Vot could be Verse?). We all hate poetry, right? But we might make an exception for this sick and twisted stuff. This devil's banquet of adults-only offal features more than 50 satanic sonnets, vitriolic verses and odious odes. MANIC MEMES & OTHER MINDSPACE INVADERS. A disturbing repository of quirky quotes, sayings, proverbs, maxims, ponderances, adages and aphorisms. This menagerie holds no fewer than 184 memes from eight meme-species perfectly adapted to their respective environments.MASTRESS & OTHER TWISTED TAILS. An unholy corpus of oddities, strangelings, bizarritudes and peculiaritisms, including but not limited to barbaric episodes of herring-flinging and kipper-kissing. A cacklingly bizarre read that may induce fatal hysteria. Not Recommended! FIENDS & FREAKS and serpents, dragons, devils, lobsters, anguished spirits, hungry ghosts, hell-beings, zombies, organ-grinders, anti-gods, gods and other horse-thieves you wouldn't want to meet in a dark cosmos. Immature Content! Adults Maybe.HAGS TO HAGGIS. An obnoxious folio featuring a puke of whiskey-soaked war-nags, witches, maniacs, manticores and escapegoats. Not to mention (please don't!) debottlenecking and desilofication, illustrated. Take your brain for a walk on the wild side. Leave your guts behind.
DOJO OF ABS, oil on stretched canvas 39.75 cm x 50.25 cm. A horrible work, don't like it at all. As you feed the gentle drops of blood
caress your cheeks like crimson tears, my love
calling forth sweet morphogenetic memories
of all the times we’ve slain together
the line of carcasses stretching to eternity
death-lily delineating forevermore.
Shall I woo thee with insurance
until the gibbous enormity patronises
the very longitude of marsupial afterbirth, dollface?
Or would’st thou engrave betwixt delinquent carnage
thrice-flailing widdershins encircling
sublunary solemnity’s crepuscular astrolabe?
Forsooth! And whence thy infinitesimals
thy gaping quiescence incarnadine
fistula-festooned but buttery, sweet cheeks?
Or durst thee verily impignorate
thy carious kynodontic blandishments
whence fulsome gadzookery ...
One has a question, it’s really quite small
For any who want to be one with the all
One wonders why oneness is set as a goal
One that one dies for, along with one’s soul
A goal that’s scored long after the game
When the self is forgotten along with the name
In trueness your youness is inside your head
Oneness and twoness is noneness: you’re dead
Minus my myness my self can’t be found
Above in the sky or below in the ground
One and one’s two, and two and one’s three ...
I came upon a zombie
a zombie that I saw
gobbling brains ’til brainy stains
remained upon the floor.
I came upon a vampire
a vampire I did see
drinking blood that streamed in flood
bright red quite readily.
I came upon a werewolf
“awarewolf” as it were
hungry eyes saw my demise
my death, if you prefer.
I came upon the humans
in their global sauna
they ate a world and then they hurled
their guts out in a corner.
Detail from Hungry Ghosts Scroll, late 12th century, Kyoto National Museum, Japan. You don't have to be Buddhist (or even human) to feel that life is pain and misery. But some lives are more painful and miserable than others. One of six lifeforms available to humans for reincarnation purposes, hungry ghosts (aka anguished spirits) can never satisfy their monstrous appetites. Were we to leave for outer space
Who'd stand and say we're in disgrace?
Fish don't know its paradoxic
Waste is food and food is toxic
No birds there be, or bees, or trees
Who realize we spread disease
We'd like to say with deep remorse
We're very sorry, yes of course
But where's the mailbox on the moon
To send the Earth a Get-Well-Soon?
To tenderize a tough old bird
Just cook her longer, so I’ve heard
But like revenge, or so I’m told
The Earth is better eaten cold.
Painting by William BlakeBernadette broke a sweat placing bets
Her bibliophilous solution-toed calculi
At longer odds and shorter jockeys
David the pecs was tortured to death slowly
His bibulous problem-head unwhole he
Glugged a bevvy of big-bosomed babes
Unsolved on ebay, watch: onsold
To unrealtor Esmeralda Glutz
Unreal water but no crusts in all her dusty huts
Dare you name the creature that has stolen your joy,
and insatiable in its fury ever thirsts for more?
We remember you in the golden time,
before the fall, when your soul untrammelled soared among the stars.
Please don’t go away; don’t leave us only with memories of your fierce dark mind,
the mysteries you create, the paths you tread where none has gone before.
Some people say everything is Information
Others say Awareness is everything.
Some people say that Love is all there is
Others say that God is all there is.
God says we’re alright:
Matter is Energy,
Energy is Information,
Information is Awareness,
Awareness is Love.
God is all ways right.
The Same God So That He Obtained Of The Magus Was By Demons Be Pulled In Pieces:
Engraving by Pieter Bruegel the Elder. Along the Hallway of Tomorrow
All the tumours beg and borrow
bloated bags of pus and vinegar
shiver, quiver, quaver or deliver
punctuated full-length features
starring all pipe-smoking creatures
eponymous green-hatted leprechauns
strangelings taut and sinning blameless
well-known if not despised and nameless
unhinged, unhorsed and plump with sorrow
trotting comes my old friend Zorro...
along the Hallway of Tomorrow.
The faint tinkling of fairy music
Encircling that which won’t
or that witch will
shorn of etymological linguini
equilibria egregiously punctuated
its verisimilitude quiver-cursed:
Harmonies of Baked Liverwurst.
Arrowshot, debarked and deboned
so very like the river
burst its bank, the peoples’ bank
sea-stark, unthroned
its verisimilitude to health renursed:
...
"Just one riddle," the Riddlee said,
"no less nor even more
that I may move along the groove
that leads to the Earl of Four."
Quoth the Riddler to the Riddlee
“A riddle I’ll contrive
that you may travel across this gravel
towards the Duke of Five.”
“For Fuck’s sake,” quoth the Riddlee
“Quit your stupid tricks
time is fleeting; I’m late for my meeting
with the Marquis at Six!”
The Riddler grinned an evil grin
and counted to eleven
but all four nought: he stopped three short
upon Viscount of Seven.
The Riddlee pondered for a while
then said “I’ll tell you straight:
just add one, now I must run
to meet the Baron Eight.”
Once upon a Frosty FridayThey packed the pact up tight and good
Within a pact-box made of wood
Seven sisters thought that that was that
Or so they thought they understood
Each went about her daily life
In which misogyny was rife
Forgotten was the deadly pact
Until the first became a wife
Their tragic story must be told
Six sisters bought but one was sold ...
In the foothills of the badlands
And in the early evening
Or the middle of the morn
They’d find the bloody corpses
With their throats all ripped and torn.
Some said he was an ogre
Others disagreed
“he’s just a sicko bastard,”
Was all they would concede.
The police could never find him
Nor the soldiers, nor the spies ...
. 
