Category Archives: apocalypse

No Life During Wartime

Back to bite, back to bite, don’t breath, thump thump.
Lights, gone. Food, gone. Drugs, gone, Hope.

Desperate sex and wobbly legs.
Get me drunk, look after me, stop the thinking, stop the world.

Back to bite, back to bite, bite me harder, fuck me harder
Than this silence, than this screaming, are they screaming, is it me?

The terror is like popping candy abusing my skull,
Like angry clots of blood trying to burst out of fingernails

Pulsing, screeching, moaning, and then silence.
The constant ringing and now your face has gone all blurry.

The thought of all the itches we will never get to scratch.
It’s all rotting, it’s all gone and you just keep being so fucking kind.

The bile in my stomach, my hands in your pants, is there even a point?
Splashing about in mud, looking for familiar faces, for a trace of something human.

Slaves demanding justice, then wanting the crown.
Grey days, skipped days, were you slowly drift away.

I don’t want to be pretty, I don’t want to write pretty
To hide behind niceties and disgusting adoration.

In the darkness I’ve stopped tripping, I walk steady now.
I’m not longer funny but I’m lonely, as you roll me the millionth cigarette,

As I gulp the millionth gulp of bitterness, my bitterness.
We lost a long while ago and we’ve wasted all our time.

Toxic waste and suspicion, is that mask because of me?
They’ve turned us against each other and there’s no going back.

There’s no life during wartime, only slow self-destruction.
Before the bombs, before the lights went out,

Before the mould and the stench and the disease and the hunger,
The mind numbing stupidness had already knocked us out.


 

Featured image: Jobkill by Pushwagner, Hariton (1987) can be found in the Norwegian National Museum, or online at: http://www.pushwagner.no/galleri/kunst/JOBKILL

Apocalypse

Always in the car of doom. And it’s doom for all this time, out of any of our control. We’re driving down the road and it’s calm, still vaguely sunny, there’s breeze, the sea is somewhere on the left and it’s almost dusk. A building up front towers over all, the Tikal perhaps, or maybe the Taj Mahal. It wasn’t there before and its feels ominous. I know something is happening a second before the rest. Yet we’re all in this together. Objects start tumbling from the sky before us: tables, cars, machines, electronics, trees, body parts, shoes, flowers and chickens. We see it but it’s too late to stop and we’re under the pouring rain of humanity. And now we all know this is the end, it is the end of it all. Tossed into the terminal, an itch of disappointment tugs at me. I thought this would feel different. There’s no sudden realisation, no purpose, no regret. My life doesn’t flash before my eyes. I just quietly find myself dismantling… everything splinters, matter is no more, and I vaguely think this is what it might be like if a planet struck earth, if we were imploding on ourselves. I’m disassembled painlessly and bloodlessly into blackness. And as our history is scratched out by the universe’s absentmindedness, I become extra dimensional, pulsating sparkles in the nothingness. Inexplicable and immaterial, maybe this is what pure consciousness feels like.

Featured Image by Danish artist Anja Hemmingsen. Find her on: http://anjahemmingsen.com