Younisos / Writer

Posts tagged “postmodern poetry

Sensory aphonia

bright flesh
is silence
— You’re a psychopath, she yelled.
— My throat is weak, I said. My esophagus pissing blood on the blank page, ignoble online cake puking digital rosaries … um … the universe is a big obscene pie —
Sweet slices of butt crawling in my head …
.
.
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Younisos

 

 


Raw flux

brainless blast squeezing sharp bones crushing glowing livers / logical red foam / I doze / split azure / singing on black mire / oblong eager pig
my ode to phallic bleeding  joy

as big Bone pops in heavens

raping cosmogonist tits disconnecting your narcissistic circuits / rotting ego in juicy butt radiating steel dripping creamy dreams of infinitesimal anus cleaving golden skulls tearing my brain through fresh casts upon killing sweetness / drawing carmine jets / large schizoid knives
bits of howling viscera on blue skinned horizon / earwigs puking silver cockroaches / crippled throat

torn blowjobs

mind has to be shred / bursting the helpless eyes of the empirical world surging lightning curves to slash chronic nonsense and other rancid hopes cranking strings of guts over scarlet rivers
quartered satin thighs / wild pubic dreams kill stripping moon and make it spit its stillborn milk / legs slipping / fresh cracked ass

unbridled fury of  …  large eggs  /  winged sap blank slots and plump cherries while foul cerulean sky pours its atrocious light on hungry oranges

fluffy rectums purring at the bottom of other creamy roundness and
heady saliva of

schizo ginger girl

 

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Younisos


Viscera in plastic bag

 

pancreatic cancer rings once
just say bye bye and rot in peace /

anal-galactic intercourse doesn’t wait /

one more time they crucified Dionysus in Wall Street and they stuffed his eyeballs with semiconductors /

the blue-eyed butcher refreshes his cock in skimed milk but I’m expecting more beheaded dolls on the run /

blood
dropping
between the lines
how can I clean up all that blood
in
my
bed /

 


Bony madness

a radical blade extends its iced platinum
on sawn skulls —
huge eggs
crimped marrow
mad cartilages
erect bone breaking up heavens

flabbergasted guts
puke their meaty screams
on lymphatic aphonia —
flat ribs
blown gelatin
stillborn green sky
crippled fractal twisted smash

and my frightened glands
fall apart
in ionic cracklings
slicing the synaptic song
of dismembered aesthetics —

cold breast
sidereal gristle
bony phallic killing

slashed immanence

 


Meat, void, and carnage

 

horror — is nothing — my bowels per se — had razors at lunch — horror — nothing — blank sun — iced virtual fuck — my liver — frozen — snatched breath — squeezed red cells — blowing off the dark sap of my plasmatic silence

silence

 

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Self-portrait by Younisos

 


The tongue of death

disemboweled bodies are dripping
dripping
through mutant interfaces of purplish syntactic vomit —

blown viscera grumbling the bright song of beheaded breath — sliced carotids puking red asemic phonemes — lonely corpse rotting in a quiet forgotten flat — sparkling liver hanged among cerulean orgies
and naked obscene blades and hysterical bloody cats shredding the sky and wide fresh tongues licking the punctuation of the flux

I can die alone in silence
it’s free

 


Excess

square bone gushes on the mangled edge of darkish spatters while smooth whores wail and writhe in the woods my TV died of testicular cancer shiny tits illusion sparkles around synthetic mountains through the holy sleep the big toe survived the plague and now it’s squirting words of milky wisdom and black crackling cum the square jaw has come

sensual anxiety puking its fuchsia gall on the final pie of sidereal panic

slit human spleen
drowsing in a silver bag
cold lymph shower
on the back of the three dicks beast

cut off my toe NOW
it’s rotten

obviousness
is
scarlet


Meaty pixels

tits
pixeled soporific artifact
gelding the slack eye of void

immanence lies on butchery freshness

crowds of fetuses
agonising on the edges of meaty cliffs

shredded squishy tongues dripping beneath the crude erection of becoming

anal flux
vanishing in flabby whining
over ramshackle gallbladder

 


Big pale boobs kill

 

We’re done with books. Double dish of peas and the killing  joy squirting through radioactive brains. I’m a carrion, more or less. Busty scarlet woman is the killer. Deadly bright tits destroy all rational thought (Bill just screwed the ginger boy). Sodomy is the tight blank fullness of silence. Big Bone is masterminding the next great aesthetic Butchery. Danaé will terrorise the keyboard and the verb. Her pale blinding boobs are cutting up human software. I’ll sit and let carnal light break up heavens. The writer eats the blade as he can when mad sun shows up with silver giant dildos and tiny blank skirts.

 

 

yes

Younisos

 


Cut-up alley

guts torn along alleys darkened by howler assassins warm heart snatched gray wall agony sawn neck dazed blade rusty dull my entrails on the table sheared light drilled multiple vertical crack slow impalement walking through the cut-throat street broken ribs hoping for some headless glow cracking the cartilage of the spear yelling loud twirling blinding furious cock singing upcoming murders licking sweet thighs killer Bone gleaming biting hilarious rump steak blood mixed with fresh brains spattered on Mary’s cleavage the artist is not an ego she went home licking her own tits  that’s my skull  “the-flow-flows” could coincide with : SILENCE

—  —

Younisos is in the CUT UP Anthology

I’m in CUT UP!, the amazing anthology edited by A.D. Hitchin and Joe Ambrose.
My contribution, “Self Cut-Up in Tangier“, is a bloody cut-up on my own texts.
http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/cut-up-2/
http://www.amazon.com/Anthology-Inspired-Cut-Up-William-Burroughs/dp/1291745920 
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Younisos

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Younisos is in the CUT UP Anthology

I’m in CUT UP!, the amazing anthology edited by A.D. Hitchin and Joe Ambrose.
My contribution,  Self Cut-Up in Tangier,  is a bloody cut-up on my own texts.
http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/cut-up-2/
http://www.amazon.com/Anthology-Inspired-Cut-Up-William-Burroughs/dp/1291745920  
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