Parchment of Archangels

Harkening anarchies incarceration.

Parchment of Archangels

Nirvanas Empyrean Valhalla (Heaven)

Maybe the page is just as empty as I am,

Writing over itself in delirium

Marking the skin, drawing blood,

Bathed in ink of a moonlights’ brink,

On the fringes of greatness, tasting the cliffside,

Climbing the skyline

But never reaching past a mountainous Babylon,

And into the depths of Elysium’s abyss;

Nebulous blackened in sacrilege

Promiscuous photosynthesis of ashen acolytes

Radioactive as Prometheus’ monolithic existence

The equilibrium’s flagellantism angelic prison

Interstellar amaryllis television of a capellini parhelion

Shrouded eldritch velvet zealots death knells of Valkyries

Where I seldom celebrate the blackhole stars

Of cinnabar arcana like polyphonic arteries of Tartarus

Grasping at the metallic alabaster grasslands of my soul’s metamorphic lull

In the hulk of my homunculi consumption

Decomposition of my agathion constellations

Apocalyptic like polychromatic avalanches

Disembarking in the anarchy left in darkness;

The parchment of archangels

Limbo Netherworld of the Nocturnal (Earth)

Reverberating determination

Of anarchistic polycrystalline Olympians

Of deciduous vermillion vilified dandelion

Aphrodite’s tranquillizer of spiderweb threads

Of Armageddon’s severed headless heart

Serenity’s knife bright with the dark arts

Of somersaulting renaissance

Sound bonding indomitable onomatopoeia

Shattering amaranthine reanimated rhymes

Nihilism fireflies, vibrance adamantine

Psychosomatic abracadabra cadaverous avarice

Reciting cytoplasmic tragedy’s basilisks of cardiovascular basilica

Carnivalesque in the resurrecting evanescence

Maleficent in the iridescent Nephilim of devilish rebellions

Evangelion melancholy monogamy of doppelgängers

Ravenous for Nirvana’s catalysts

Megalomaniac as the stratosphere

High as the ludicrous lunar eclipse

Shapeshifting hieroglyphics labyrinthine

Intermingling chivalry umbilical acrylic waterlily ventriloquist

Of Gilgamesh leatherback antennae clandestinely

Crescent as a silver machete’s crepuscular resentment

Heaven-sent for a life sentence penitentiary as night fell throughout the centuries

Inter-dimensional dementia ending in requiems sentience

Abaddon Yells in Gehenna (Hell)

My heartbeats the ribcaged ribbons

Obsidian tattered against the wind of my Rorschach’s sabbath

Reincarnate the manifestation of Mother Nature, archaic eldritch Valkyries

The short end of the matchstick is an olive branch

Bearing forbidden fruit adding fuel to the fire

Burning bridges scattering ashes

Spilling oil as the world goes up in smoke

Down to the roots of the core of our world

Enshrouded in an amalgams’ hallelujah

Execution of bougie immunodiffusion ludicrously illuminated

Omniscience of amaranthine biomechanical cataclysms

Abracadabra onomatopoeia sabbatical avatars of devil’s advocate

My heart and mind are made up

;Of nonsense

Offhand projections of times

I drew blood with the secondhand of the clock

Instead of wildcards

And wore hearts on my sleeves

Like a queen of spades

Buried under bars and clubs

Like a diamondback in the roughhouse of cards

Withholding the keychain hell bound

In the ribcage of my heavyhearted mind

Crippled by the beating tick tock

Killing time without a second fought

Double cross your heart of darkness

And hope to crucify your guiding light

Find a hollow shell to live inside

Intertwined behind the eight ball

Heavens' gates call between the sidelines

Of a fallen psalms swansong

A glimmer of hope nightfall’s on shards

Of shattered souls as jagged as a Morningstar

Breaking dawn o ye of little faith

For creeping shadowlands leave their wake

And you wonder where the time has gone

Life a storm-cloud never calm

Prayer of a soothsayers fabled bit

You don’t know who you're dealing with

And with the burden, I carry on

Rotting earthen in the drought

Played with peace you’re but a pawn

Death is like an epilogue

An encore, the show must go on

When your light goes out, bottomless

You’re left with but a shadow’s doubt

For every heavens' hieroglyphs

Kiss the bondage of abyss

Waltzing with the pulse of God

Or just a cult to alters of asphalt facades

(Like a certain fallen star)

The futility of a light for all

(Although the darkness has its lull)

And while we all may have a dream

The ending is not what it might seem

I sleep Stillwater’s shackled beneath

Nightmares sleep under earthen sheets

Hearts that harbour vessels deep

Drown regardless, carnage weaves

Punctured homunculus left to bleed

Halfbreeds seed, the devil’s breed

Madman made cadavers never weep

Disparity hysterical, buried trees

The root of evil reaches high

With branches dancing in the sky

But we will never reach the moon

Drowning under morning dew

Hatred (Reincarnation)

I inherited a hatred so great

Death became my only fate

Carrying the paper wait

Married to the scythe

Death my only wife

Crescent moon a knife

Sitting in my pity

Looking out upon the city

Are you still with me?

Darkness is my light

Hatred is my right

Even as a simple blight

Overcast out into the unwholesome world

Saviours born without a goal

I betrayed the ones who gave me faith

I bowed on my knees and cried and prayed

But my demons would not go away

For those who wear a mask can never face

Another person but themselves

And thrust their hate on someone else

And so they did the same to me

And lost their hope, conclave, and their beliefs

Dug their graves with their silly farce

Devils fighting for their part

Hatred is our finest art

Heaven’s angels still depart

Discarded arteries, hollow hearts

Martyrs pull themselves apart

To build the world up with those pieces until we reach the stars

Even if it leaves us scarred

My heart might ache, my voice is hard

Left behind, I came so far

The path is long, my wrath is strong

After all, someday we’re gone

What else am I to look upon?

 

 

Black Dawn, Pitch White (Bloom)

But hell to taunt the endless sprawl

Planewalker I am, on kneels I crawl

Nightstalker I am, on streams I lull

From a common spring our passions’ drawn

On picture frames of rationed song

Cast iron chains; our only bond

Pen and paper aethers daunt

String together words, tongue-tied have-knots

Hang onto blood clots in the rot

Quintuplets of umbilical ventriloquists guillotines gaunt

The words of warden’d prisoners haunt

Underneath harvest moons and shards of calm

Hides the bitter flicker of dawn

 

Spite (Wither And Die)

Incorporeal rigour Mortis

Phantasmagorical terraforming primordials

Torrent of pillaged rivers deliverance

Our love is a plastic, polyacrylic pilgrimage

A silhouette of deathless doppelgängers

Dark Knight’s I left alone in the fury

Cloaked in an abyssal chrysalis's myriad

Of opalescent renaissance

Penance saunters ominous

Reincarnated hatreds that don’t rip off my masquerade of dawn

Beneath the knight of darkness

The murder of crows

The rage of dragons

Of a redhanded canopy of pollen belladonna polymerization

Bloodcurdling eternity of hurricanes’ graveyards

A flight of stairways down from heaven, into the earth, a ravenous verse

Severed Nephilim reconnecting crepuscular

Twilight feels like my final mosaic death

Sunlight charred discarding my first breath

I spite the ones who hurt me so

Rewrite the hung buried under snow

The people who weren’t there for me

Some people cut the silence just to watch it bleed

I hear the butchered nothingness

Clutch my chest a crucifix

My heart an empty black abyss

My art a memory of past bliss

If only as an afterimage

Pray, for devil’s wounds have kissed

My broken knuckled, braided fists

Hatred grins upon chapped avaricious lips

Left in darkness, I moonlight my eclipse

And wear a slipknot on each wrist

Stitch the wounds of scarecrows' ignorance

Obscure the markings Arkham in my cartilage

Bones of pandemonium’s chromosome metamorphosis

A chrysalis, a husk, a broken home

Cold emotions I’ve outgrown

And finally came out my shell

Found a hope in hell to reacquaint myself

The sky, the ground, the loneliness

I’m the one who writes the story

You are only purgatory

Death may be primordial

I am phantasmagorical

Try to push me down to earth

I’ll show you b******s what I’m worth

Every ashen blasted word

Let the corpses once give birth

And kingdom come reign over dirt

And aspire forest fire hearts to burn

As the clockwork of apocalypse churns,

The furnace of eternity, man's own uncertainty

Bright kaleidoscopes from burgundy

 

A Small Piece of Hope (The Ending Begins)

Hope, magnum opus cornucopia

Will not bow to servitude

Flower like a satellite

Write your own stars, acolytes

Carve out your path and forge your hearts

Walk so far, your end will be your start

And death will never leave you left behind

Time and heavens don’t rewind

Smile on the one divine

Death is just the next in line

It does not know to be divided

To see the world from eye to eyelid

Till curtains fall on psalm and silence

Resurrected Nephilim; ensembles quiet

One horizon, bride to nihilists chiming

Choirs of skyscrapers dot time's freckled echoes

Still defiant, rippled, imperfections' replica chuckles

Nonsensical, our only function beckons

Smell the roses, love what's yours in every second

Only then can you be deathless

Times a friend, she will remember

For every soul that's been dismembered

I hope to God there is a heaven

Author's Note

I promise I read every single review, and I generally will reply to them. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be happy to hear anything you feel needs sharing. Whenever you write on my shortcomings or breakthroughs, or the themes of my poems, or share ideas and friendly criticism, it decides my next poem to an extent. I will listen, learn and be thankful. And 99% of the time, you'll get a reply unless you're trolling me.

Reviews

[Katrina Mckeown]

I find this poem remarkable, it must be the longest I’ve ever read , very intriguing, had me gripped right to the last , I also hope to God there is a Heaven. I would also like to go with Barley girls comment!

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

I'm really glad you enjoyed the poem, I tend to write a lot of longer poems, they are some that are over 5000 words. I just love writing, so I can't really stop sometimes. Either way, thank you for reading, I'll check out your work too!

[.]

"Nirvanas Empyrean Valhalla (Heaven)" I liked the whole of this part. I think it wasn't the whole when I looked in for the first time.
It's beautiful darkness...And that's your unique ability to show that to us. Your beginning part was so beautiful. You know we love your poems... so not typing much today, I'd like to go with barleygirl's comment. :)
Good Luck

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

I'm just so happy I have someone like you to share them with! :)

[.]

So as I am! 😊

[wordman]

mystical and evil lurks in this fine write

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

Thanks for reading as always wordman! :)

[wordman]

you`re welcome

[barleygirl]

It looks like "Hatred (reincarnation)" has been pasted here twice in a row? Just checking. I never think in terms of heaven-hell-reincarnation, etc, altho most people do, so I wasn't as involved in the meaning, but more checking out the writing itself & how it made me feel. I love this: "abracadabra cadaverous avarice" & so many more. The first ten lines are so excellent, in terms of meaning, it's one of your best openings.

I noticed "Heaven" and "Earth" sections sound similar, both a raging war-like experience. Similarly, "Hell" and "Reincarnation" had a similar reading effect on me, which I loved more than the first two, & which felt the opposite way to me. That is to say, Heaven & Earth felt like war, whereas Hell and Reincarnation felt like relief or soothing. To me, this is counter-intuitive, but I like that about it. I get so sick of people glorifying our time here on earth, whereas "hell" is painted as so punishing. Your poem seems to turn that standard on its head. I really love the later sections where you bring in more rhythm in your pacing. Whereas you always work with word sounds, I don't often feel rhythm in your lines & I'm just a rhythmic kind of person, always listening to music & being inspired by it (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

Sorry about that error, it was not intentional, I fixed the mistake, I was having trouble editing at the time. Yes, the idea was that heaven, earth, and hell as well as the other pieces of the poem were not to be exactly the way we view them. I wanted to show things from a different perspective. I might add to this work again someday soon, but it's nearly finished for the most part. Just need to edit more. I wanted all the parts to have their own feel, so I worded each section slightly differently. It's intentional for the style to change, although the piece seems to have a mind of its own, as it took form differently than I originally intended. Some parts could still be improved or improvised, however, I remain happy with the result.