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Comment to be added. Unless I already know you on one of the other LJs for members of our system.

IF YOU FRIEND ME BUT DO NOT COMMENT, I WILL NOT FRIEND YOU BACK UNLESS I ALREADY KNOW YOU. If you friend me without commenting, and I do not already know you, I will ignore you.

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Inspired by a scene in "Down Among The Sticks and Bones" by [personal profile] seanan_mcguire

Malevolent Moon
By Pyrayton Svaenohr

Malevolent moon, red burning eye
Judging from within the sky
Its looming presence so suffocating
Fills your being full of hating
It crowds the heavens like a festering sore
Bleeding malice forevermore
Across hot coals your soul it's raking,
Its silent screams sanity's unmaking
Abandon hope, ye who enter here
For all you'll find is terror, fear
No sign nor warning will ever suffice
To balance the evil's power to entice
Be sure, be sure, ere the threshold be cross't
Lest thy soul be forever lost.


Aug. 14th, 2016 08:45 pm
svaenohr: (Default)
This is what the heat does to me: I slept through most of the day, I did not wake up until 7 PM. I actually got plenty of sleep for once. But it is 8:40 now, and I already am tired enough that I wish to go back to bed.
svaenohr: (Default)
"Summer, or 'An Aria of Death'"
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

The Eye of Sauron's bigger brother burns across the sky,
People bow in worship though it makes us suffer, die.
Its rays like lava acid lasers sizzling on my flesh,
Its screaming radiation song an aria of death.

From the sickness of its deadly heat, a kiln I live in now,
Though I might be cooler as baking clay or barbequed as cow.
Its sickness takes my strength away somewhere I cannot find,
And a molasses river's sluggish flow could now outrun my mind.

I hiss and spit in angry rage and meaningless defiance,
At this evil screaming firey eye, on which life is reliant.
My hatred knows no bounds and my fury's come alive,
I cannot wait for winter, the time that I thrive.

For all the Westerosans speak of winter coming soon,
If they saw this summer's sun, then they would know doom.
I wish to burrow underground, live in some nice cool cave,
Instead I worry summer's heat will bring an early grave.

Damn-ed be the ones who glory in evil's light!
With this verse I curse the sun and call forth the night!
May the black clouds blot the sun and bring about the rain!
May the cooling sky waters wash away my pain!

Curse-ed be the sunbathers, risking melanomal death!
With this verse I curse the sun and call for night's cool breath!
May the grey return unto this land and bring its rain so cool!
May the summer sun begone for good, to curse some other fool!
svaenohr: (Red Eye)
I am very frustrated lately. The burning death orb in the sky, with its rays like molten acid, pollutes the air with a miasma of devilish heat that causes my brain to go torpid. I am nocturnal, a creature of the dark and the cool. These things awaken me, while the heat is a sort of soporific. One would think I could simply shut the curtains and sleep in the day as I usually do. But no, it is not that simple by far. Because for me, sleep is extremely difficult under these conditions. The heat makes me sleepy, but unable to easily get to sleep, or stay asleep. Mainly because it is too hot to sleep without the fan, but the fan makes me too cold at the speed I need it. (I sleep with a cpap, and I cannot sleep with the noise it makes, so the fan must be on high to drown out the sound so I can sleep. Nothing else works.)

I have tried turning the fan away from me, it does not help. I have tried sleeping under sheets; this does not work because then I am still too cold under two of them. If I use a blanket, I become too hot again.

I have tried sleeping nude, tried sleeping with various kinds of clothes on, but it makes no difference. Either I sweat like mad, too hot to sleep, or I am too cold. There is no in between. And so, it takes forever to get to sleep. I fall asleep only when I am too exhausted to do otherwise.

And where I normally sleep six hours, go to the restroom, sleep another three hours or more, now I am up after six hours. Sometimes sooner. The other day, I had less than four hours sleep, was up for over twenty hours before going back to sleep.

Some days, I am forced to take sleeping aids. Preferably while the room is still cool, for otherwise the sleeping aids do not help either.

Winter cannot come fast enough. I would rather it were below freezing in my room, at least then I could be warm under many blankets, cook when I please, and bundle up. Or turn the heat to something reasonable, like 75. (I prefer no higher than 70 or 72 when awake, my sleeping body prefers 75, and no higher. It has been in the upper 80s and lower 90s lately.

So lately, if I could murder the sun, I would do so, and do it gladly. World be damned.

That feel

Aug. 12th, 2016 04:18 am
svaenohr: (Default)
That feel when you have a kink that appears to have no fics anywhere. :(

Body invasion is the kink I speak of. Having a parasite or symbiote or the like, especially an alien one, in one's body, and getting off on that sensation. If it exists, it is very hard to find.
svaenohr: (Default)
*Growls* I am all but out of meat, and I have a week left in the month. All I have left is a couple raw chicken breasts (frozen), a can of tuna, and some salmon in cans I can do nothing with because I have no eggs. Out of money for food, and it is too fucking hot for cooking frozen chicken in the oven. This week is going to be very long for me.
svaenohr: (Default)
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr and Alexander Antonin ([personal profile] alex_antonin)

From primordial slime grows things made of meat,
Which quiver and shiver in cold and in heat;
From its own filth, from Life's shit and rot,
Life arises and suffers, then falls down to naught;
Made of hot garbage, composed of decay,
Life swims in its own filth all night and all day;
Living things eat each other, tearing down bit by bit,
Then Life turns around and eats its own shit.

From the time you're born until you decompose,
Starvation and death are the least of your woes;
There are parasites extant that will live in your eye,
And care not if you're starving, or cold, or you cry;
Or plagues that devour the flesh off your bones,
Dooming you to a life of agonized moans;
There are millions of horrors in store for you here,
To make sure you have plenty of things for to fear.

So it's plain to me what all these facts spell:
That Life on this Earth is literally Hell;
There is no God who cares for our plight,
And darkness will always devour the light;
No omnipotent savior who cries at our pain,
No soul drives your meat, only sparks in your brain;
Just Life born of refuse, of garbage, of spilth,
Eating its own shit, made of its own filth.
svaenohr: (Default)
“Capitalism Is Cannibalism”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr and [personal profile] alex_antonin

Our empire is carved from the flesh of our brothers and sisters.
Capitalism is colonialism, humanity carving itself into pieces.
Capitalism is autophagia, humanity eating the pieces it has carved of itself.
Capitalism is cannibalism, humans turned into meat to feed the system.
The system gobbles us up, devouring our hearts and minds and bodies,
And when we're all used up, it shits us out and we're left to fester in the sun.
If you are not an easily wielded and useful tool, you're garbage to the system.
Our elderly, our disabled, our down-on-their-luck, all are treated as shit:
Walked around, stepped on, scraped up, washed away;
A health hazard to be terminated with extreme prejudice.
Not that most of the rest of us are treated much better.

Our empire is built on a foundation of torture.
Colonized peoples terrorized, brutalized, slaughtered like animals in a factory farm,
Experimented on against their will, blamed for all our own sins.
Even now, their numbers whittled away in a continuing genocide,
While you stick your head in the sand and pretend your finger is not on the trigger;
While you hum to yourself and imagine you're not assisting the slaughter.
You are a torture victim yourself, lost in comforting delusions,
Delusions of a world where racism, sexism, and exploitation are relics of the past;
A world where poverty is laziness, which means it can never happen to you;
A world where there is no system; only people, only freedom,
So you will not have to open your eyes to the ongoing atrocities all around you.

Our empire is built on a bedrock of exploitation.
All that is inviolable is violated, plundered, packaged, and devoured.
A lucky few are born into obscene wealth, swimming in piles of money,
And claiming that it all came from their own hard work,
When really, they stole it from other people's hard labor:
From people working over 40 hours a week in 2 jobs but still can't afford food,
From people working over food despite a flu because they can't afford sick days,
From people bringing their kids to interviews because they can't afford child care,
From people who are underpaid, screamed at by customers and bosses alike,
Victims of literal wage theft, tip theft, or paid a pittance under the table,
All so their employers can swim in a pile of stolen money.

Our empire is choking the life out of humanity.
The system cannot work if individuality and freedom exist,
So compliance is mandatory, resistance is futile; abnormality will not be tolerated.
Work, consume, breed, and die; work, consume, breed, and die;
You have all the potential of the cosmos, so why are you content to be a worker ant?
Because you know no better - the system defined freedom for you;
We're bound, gagged, and fettered, but it's all we know, so it feels Right.
It's all we know, so we inflict this torture on others, thinking we are doing Good.
Even our own children, we torture the souls and minds right out of them,
Our schools are prisons, the only thing they teach is mindless obedience;
Capitalism is violence, and it is killing our future.
svaenohr: (Default)
“The Flayed Men”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

Flayed alive, the skinless monsters still breathe.
Their every breath is agony, their screams directed inward,
But their rage is directed outward.

Like a cancer they spread, claiming everything in reach.
Eating The Mother to death, kidnapping and torturing their kin,
Not thinking beyond what can give instant relief to their pain.

Genocide is a pleasant afternoon for these beasts.
Having lost their own souls, they devour the souls of their kin,
And the results are a travesty, a mockery of spirit.

Lash out at them, and you may get them to release you.
But do not point out the insanity of their ways, or they will tear you apart,
And you will die knowing some small part of their agony.

I would pity them, but they flayed themselves.
They have only themselves to blame for their condition.
Which is the most pitiable thing of all.

There are a few who have regrown their skins,
Regrown their souls, and are sane for a time, feeling empathy for their kin.
The others will find them and re-flay them.
They always do.

~ ~ ~

File this under "all monsters are human." This poem is about European imperialism, and how it affects both white people and people of color. The imagery was inspired by a post in which some black Africans' reaction to seeing white people for the first time was to say "They have no skin!"
svaenohr: (Default)
“Darkness To Darkness, Corpse to Corpse”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

From darkness we come, and to darkness we all return.
Built bit by bit from the ashes of the dead
and the corpses of plants and animals in the womb,
We are then torn apart bit by bit by the living,
by bacteria, animals, and plants, in the dark of the tomb.
Once they were our meat and our bread,
and we will be theirs one day in our turn.
svaenohr: (Default)
“True Monster”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

I shove glass in my eyes for you,
I dip my hands in lava for you.
I open up to you, and you tell me to kill myself;
I kill myself and you tell me life is precious.
I try to roar in rage at you,
And all that comes out is a squeak.

I am intimately familiar with Hell,
Because I have known you.
Your soul is like antifreeze to a cat;
You are sweet to the taste, but you're poison.
God blames The Devil for your creation,
But The Devil won't accept the credit.

If the darkest Dark mated with the foulest evil,
Their worst offspring would be cherubic compared to you.
Azathoth and Cthulhu refuse to speak your name,
Not even in hushed whispers in a fearful night.
Even in a room full of the worst of humanity's worst,
You would be the true monster.
svaenohr: (Default)
I could clean a highway, or plant a tree,
Or protest a polluting factory,
But I don't have time for all that swill,
I've got shit to do on FarmVille.

Gemini poem

Apr. 3rd, 2015 01:05 am
svaenohr: (Default)
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

I have poured out all my blood until dust wheezed from my veins.
I have punctured my soul and drained all its tears until an ocean formed.
I have screamed so loud the atmosphere ignited and burned the world to cinders.
I have lived a million agonies until there was nothing left that could hurt me.

I could drown you in the ocean of my blood and tears.
I could crucify you in Hell and think it insufficient.
I could tear you apart and put you back together inside out.
I could give you a million agonies until nothing else could hurt you.

Bound in chains of white-hot razor wire,
Soulmates via the darkest magics.
Two spirits stitched together like a human centipede,
Forged in agony, breathing burning needles and battery acid.
svaenohr: (Default)
“The Universe Is A Poem”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

The universe is a poem of unknowable complexity and size;
We see very little of it with our ears and nose and eyes.
We are deaf and blind and noseless in an eternal abyss,
We would need 1000 senses just to guess something amiss.

We do not hear the chorus in the heavens all around,
The music of the stars as they sing their song unbound.
Nor the planets as they add their own bits to the symphony,
We are deaf and blind and noseless in a vast eternity.

We are as dust mites on the skin of men within a world
Where giants walk among them, mountains getting hurled
In wars even they can't fathom, so how in Hell could we?
And we quibble over silly things like land, ideas, money.

Yet if, somehow, these giants vast cared for us at all,
And tried to speak to us, would we understand their call?
Perhaps the sun screams into the abyss with a roar of plasma fire,
And we pretend there’s nothing amiss, and ignore the warnings dire?

They are great and vast and old, these giants out in space,
And all we are is talking meat in a meaningless rat race.
The universe, it does not care, we are of no importance.
No matter what we do, the giants continue their dance.
svaenohr: (Default)
“The Snake Inside”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

There is a snake in my belly, a tightly coiled knot.
It eats me from within, out of fear.
I have carried this snake inside me for decades,
And have gotten used to its presence,
But of late, it has become more active,
More afraid, more venomous,
For reasons unknown to me.

I try to calm it down, to make it relax,
So it will not eat my insides,
But that just frightens it more and more,
Until the beast starts climbing up my throat,
Constricting my heart and lungs,
Burning my esophagus,
Its head a lump in my throat,
Its venom tearing through my body.

The snake inside me writhes,
And I wish I could call animal control,
Or speak parseltongue,
To whisper peace into its soul,
Into my own soul,
Into our soul.
Until then, we writhe in anxiety.


Feb. 3rd, 2015 07:40 am
svaenohr: (Red Eye)
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

I wish to live a life so bold, that none would dare to hurt me,
To make you fear that before I grew cold, my soul would rise to eat thee!
      A malignant spirit tearing muscle and skin,
      Covered in gore, with a murderous grin,
      Howling into the sky at night,
      All who hear it fleeing in fright!

I wish to live a life so grand, that upon the day I die,
Men, women, and children in every land would wail, scream, and cry.
      A maleficent specter swooping down from the skies,
      Causing unending nightmares of burning red eyes,
      A giant red skull trailing fires from Hell,
      No magic can save you, not a single true spell!

I wish to live a life so free, that all would envy my might,
Wishing they could join my spree, and - like me - take flight.
      Malicious ghouls cackling with glee,
      Every one of us utterly free!
      A future land where all that crawls, swims, or flies,
      Will live in terror of the haunted night skies!

I wish to live a life so dire, that it would end the human race,
All your souls consumed in fire, terror frozen on your face!
      And the only thing sentient left on the land,
      Are animals fleeing what they can't understand.
      Will you join me in my escape to the skies?
      Will you join me when, dead, I rise?
svaenohr: (Default)
Homophobia. Such an unassuming word, a TARDIS of letters.
A word used to make their deeds seem a bit better.
An abuse of language that adds to the crime.
A self-serving, self-righteous waste of good breath.
I have caulrophobia, but I've never beat a clown to death.
svaenohr: (Default)
“Incunabula Of Phantasmagoria”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

In ancient eons gone and past,
There was born within the void
A creature terrible and vast
That stars wished to avoid.

It ate dwarf stars for breakfast,
And giant blues for lunch.
At dinnertime it found black holes
Upon which it would munch.

The Virgo Supercluster
Is like a forest to this beast,
But the Milky Way galaxy
Is where it once did feast.

And though it eats most stars,
A few it spares by need,
For it seeks out M class worlds
With life, so it can breed.

It scoured the void for eons,
Looking where it could,
Until it found one planet
That looked like it was good.

It laid some eggs on Earth,
But before it could depart,
Something happened to them,
Which broke the creature's heart.

Debris from space wiped out its nest,
So it was forced to wait;
Luckily for this sky beast,
Patience is its finest trait.

Then one day it woke up,
And saw its nest once more secure.
It laid its eggs upon the earth,
But watched it, to be sure.

Its eggs must incubate for centuries,
Thus in us they set up shop.
And now they jump between us
Whenever dead we drop.

And one day in the future,
If Mother gets her way,
All of us will hatch,
And our flesh will fall away.

We incubators of flesh and bone
Will explode in bloody showers,
And the Earth will burn to cinders
In just a few short hours.

Expanding, we will roar,
To our final form assemble;
And as we tear a hole in spacetime,
The universe shall tremble!
And we shall be forevermore
A plague upon the 'verse!
So don't you think that maybe we
Should use THIS life to rehearse?
svaenohr: (Default)
“The Two Elements”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

“Four elements,” say some,
“Five!” says another.
“Thirty-seven” says my father,
“One hundred eighteen” says my mother.

Water, Earth, Air, and Fire,
Or Spirit gives you a fifth.
“Wood, Fire, Metal, Earth, and Water,” say others,
“Anything else is just a myth.”

Scientists point to atoms
To compile their element list,
But what of all the smaller parts?
Is there something they've all missed?

I look into the sky at night,
And matter at the smallest scale,
And wonder if they all are wrong,
If all these guesses fail.

What if the only elements
That the universe employed
Were simply numbered one and two,
Named “Energy” and “Void”?

Take a mass of Void foundation,
Upon which stretched a skin, you see,
Of spacetime and the universe,
All made up of Energy.

Everything that we can see,
And all the things we can't
Can be boiled down to those two things,
From galaxy to ant.

So look into the massive sky,
And deep within your soul;
For you need both Energy and Void
To exist, and to be whole.


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