Younisos / Writer

Posts tagged “transgression

the toe

Getting familiar with my own thin corpse… cadaverous flux beating along the writing process… kissing the goddess Rottenness in the mouth.

Anguish blooms on the dew of breath, when afternoon is nothing : sensory fullness… diaphanous blades stroking void… and my damn real guts shredded by nothing… atrocious plenitude of flowing nothingness. Cold tits  on the horizon.

 — When horror is off, you still swallow the horror of breathing.

These whining cats under my window in the warm night… like some doomed babies in a bad zombie movie…

I brought my rotten big toe to the doctor.  He said :  « They say you’re a cut-up writer…isn’t it ? … so… go on… cut off your damn toe !… antibiotics don’t work on writer’s flesh… your damn dismembered mind is infecting the air… go screw yourself with your meaty writing… cut off your fucking toe and put it down in your poetic carnage… »

Flux oozing its flat warm scum through doomed big toe while I embrace the cadaverous edges of my bones, savouring the ongoing plasmatic decay.

My body is getting bony, so bony… Few flesh left…

My writing comes up from the bone marrow, bled… dried up soon…  That would be the price to pay for being a  carnal  poet…  skeletal ?…

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Self-portrait by Younisos

 

 

 


Rotten flux

Words are dead pigs on the slab. I’m done. Only blank void can fill the visionary gut. Non eatable giant steaks are bloodying my digital corpse. Writing makes my brains puke the sap of inner cannibal urge. Shit and love and round flesh trickling down through the asshole of agonizing fate.
Daylight is a corpse, nothing more than a corpse.

 

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Younisos

 


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 …
.
.
000 wordprwss

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


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

 


Connected corpse

Connection is rotting,
pouring its pixeled fever into the bowels of global death.

Breath is decaying
— Google is puking the void
of its dark cum.

Binary putrefaction
leads the blank becoming
of
beheaded
urge.

Tits and butt will take you online
to the algorithm
of your own corpse.

 

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by Younisos


Sensorial horror

 

The obvious is atrocious.

Horror is life itself
flowing,
daylight, breath,
warm knives in the sluggish night.

… … …

Gutted
gutted silence.

 

00INSTA

Drawing 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

 


Horror

We cling to writing… trying not to end up in such naked misery… but misery catches up with you, and horror too.
Suddenly, poetry is over. It goes away to squirt elsewhere. The day is naked. Raw anxiety. Horror flows free, straight. Daylight splatters my face and I die by breathing.
For horror is life itself, flowing…
Warm blade in the throat of the night.

 

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Younisos
photographed by Romain Carreau


Digital putrefaction

Images are dripping…
Cancer is coming, soon…
Cyber-mushrooms puke their mad fuchsia sap in the ears of crippled desire.
— Sophisticated civilization disgorges the most rotten meats.
I have no smartphone. Death is coming, baby…
Digital infection invades the flux, huge abomination… putrescent, crawling larvae, chips and microchips swarming in pus.
Where is my cock ?
Solar vertical forces are swallowed by slugs, worms and virtual octopuses.
Why don’t you slay me, baby ?

 

 

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Self-portrait by Younisos


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


Creamy carnage — Excerpt from the forthcoming book of Younisos

I might doze, right ? Railwaymen, brats, the sky — fuchsia bitchiness… Pissing on her thick hair and wide watery eyes. My cock cleanly cut, in the fridge. Banana spurted in the dark screaming at rectal attitude, disgorging streams of unspeakable reddened lymph, heart sap of the last laryngeal jerk. Long sausage gleaming beneath the knife. Bowel’s skin. Under the frail tangent of gutted Eros I stretch sparkling viscera along the crackling vomit of a mad alto sax. Free jazz sharpens my canines. Vaïna crawling on the lookout for poetic performances… she ended up impaled on the edge of bony glans. Ornette Coleman blessed her thigh filet sizzling on the grill. I puked two large bundles of erotic marshmallow, two milky girls sliced on the sensory block of the dying pudding. — As you like ladies, I’m always available for any ax and legs routine. Voracious. I never get enough meat for my thirsty marrow… Huge cream pies haunting the arterial roads of the day.

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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

 


Carnal flux

hordes
of flayed oxen
glowing in broken sensory flows

streams of beheaded redheads
pouring in the gray sluice of my torn skull

six hundred cold knives standing up in lunatic sheaves through the fiery dawn

flood of tender thighs
milky blindness around morning light

and my brains
unctuous atrocious brains
licking the blade of tenderness

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The silence of the thigh

a thigh a thigh as it appears enlightened where the verb disappears into the muteness of the thigh abyss on silence and screams bloom in skin and curves through azure steaks and sliced breasts are quivering sidereal dissolution into bowels chaos of light spouting fury  meaty colour shut up forget about psychoanalysis destroy screens withdraw your eyes from the swarm  of speech be silent  I planted the fork in the thigh and blood spurted three large scarlet drops on pale flesh  three red rivulets that I savoured on the thigh with my tongue in bright flowing delight the pale obscenity of a smooth ass  brightens my intimate atrocity  in my  glowing skull  the light (suffused with crime) strips off  the ultimate meat a thigh a thigh the sensory killing sings in sharp twists and quiet night lying through placid milk

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