Fearful Synteny

Posted in We Are the Underground with tags , , , , on August 30, 2015 by Israfel Sivad

You are my rival –
a representation of matter
against my spirit, turning
white when the Emperor rules
with absolute virtue.

A senseless creature
symbolizing anger, you are
a near deity, a king upon
whose skin the Great God
Himself sits astride.

[Disappearing in a flash of light, you
return impregnated by an alien species
seeking to build their own Ark out of
the remnants of this scorched earth,
the Lamb’s sister. You represent duality
between aesthetic beauty and primal ferocity,
but in order to see one, the hand that made
Him must also make your fearful cemetery:
the physical symmetry for two main characters,
identical twins whose organs mirror one another’s…]

Nearly two million
years ago, your fossils appear,
not understood until today to be
you – a deadly, speeding arrow
launched at prey.

Charismatic, you are
the spokesperson for an entire
ecosystem at war with humanity,
needing protection, no longer able
to defend itself.

At War with Tamerlane

Posted in We Are the Underground with tags , , , , on August 11, 2015 by Israfel Sivad

Bearing the world upon your back,
when you shrug, the earth quakes
and breaks into the ten stages
in which we find enlightenment.

One of the first we meet
at the moment of death, you
escort us into the underworld
to await our next incarnation.

Philosophically, we ride astride
you to prove our intellects have
conquered our bodies’ physical urges,
but we are nothing more than children.

The dense fog you exhale
obscures the sun to ensnare
our Emperor upon this field
requiring a demon to escape.

For millennia, our household utensils
have been made from your hide
and bones, our fertilizer, a fuel
scorching the grass upon which you feed.

As you journey to the West,
you lose yourself to the King
who blackened his name in death
and revealed his immortality.

You are the butcher, the butchered,
a visual double, the beta of
the horned goat presiding over
both the sea and Heaven.

Amid the global marketplace,
your caged equivalence to nine
elephants and monkeys has influenced
our silence and images of nothingness.

There is yet another hell
that still remains undiscovered
amid the lines and bindings
of this Sutra of the World Arising.

The more complex your duality,
with a spectrum difficult to interpret,
the simpler one is studied as
the power of God’s messenger.

Room 101

Posted in We Are the Underground with tags , , , , , on July 17, 2015 by Israfel Sivad

My origin is my home
from which I overtopped
your Walls to spread to
every metropolis on this globe,

to presage your Children’s
Crusade by being the first
being the Devil led astray
from your Saxon monastery.

God is the origin of all language…
(ambitious, intelligent, persuasive, sociable)
I hung on a wind-rocked tree…
(vindictive, manipulative, selfish, cunning)
A serpent came crawling and destroyed no one…

I am your God’s vehicle
for new beginnings, destined
to reincarnate as a holy being…
Meditating on Brahman only,

your friend and the Dragon’s,
my mechanism of horror
is the source of all torture
you face in Room 101.

Between Humans and Beasts

Posted in We Are the Underground with tags , , , on June 28, 2015 by Israfel Sivad

Born of the sun and rain,
they look like you, your brethren,
wild and lusty, uncultured
delinquents, overindulgent
drinkers prone to violence:
sired by a father consigned
to eternity upon a fiery wheel.

While you are…

A wise and gentle instructor
teaching heroic children the ancient arts
of your healing arrow forming the bridge
between humanity and beasts,

from out the East, your odyssey will
grow to be subsumed by the Strong,
the Great who return you to your
proper reign o’er the Western gods

where your precepts form the basis
of kindness and culture, devoid of
savage behavior while your powerful
weapons shed life’s blood only to eat,

but as a sacrifice for the transgression
at civilization’s core, this dart, licked by
the great serpent’s poisoned nectar, shall
pierce your thigh to steal your eternal life.

While your brethren…

Remain a metaphor for conflict
between the lower and higher appetites
of all that is seen to precede every
shred of the culture I embrace and
cherish as the foundation of this
very world I create… looking to the
night sky to witness you beyond death.

Following the Eldest Root

Posted in We Are the Underground with tags , , , , on May 24, 2015 by Israfel Sivad

You are my darkness
like a mystery sent to
curb humanity’s pride.

In your heart, you are
the universe’s only
celestial rival to War.

Discovered during primal
creation, you are Persia’s
royal guardian to the West.

Your remains have been
found encased in amber
11 million years away.

Aside from your compatriots,
you predict the Fall as one
of Heaven’s four guardians.

Your favor and disaster come
as you align your allies towards
the positive or the negative.

In the eighth division, you
battled on behalf of the sky
to protect us from evil.

Even though we’ve never
understood, I believe you
predict the world’s course.

For, I am your claws
causing the earth to burn
as the sun’s chariot dips.

The Wild Wilderness of Oz

Posted in We Are the Underground with tags , , on March 19, 2015 by Israfel Sivad


These scales before my eyes

keep me blinded to the sun.

In a metallic, blackened justice

I dwell, weighing your heart

against this feather, my master, you’re heavier.


On that grassy knoll, I fell

asleep – The Book of Chuang Tzu

open at my childish feet, Public Enemy

#1 clanging chords through my veins, criss-

crossing my wrists: Extermination Day.


This mantis preys upon me:

a sacrifice to the Goddess of Light.

It is my own desire to be

devoured, in prayer, like an eternal lover,

like this book I always wished

to discover open inside my soul.

Could you read it to me aloud, this time, again?


Like you always did throughout my childhood,

holding my open palm between your trembling fingers

in the backseat of my father’s Buick,

like you did for all the other men?

Like when you saw the Lord gaze at you

from His lonely eyes hidden within that fallen tree…


The same Lord my grandfather met

when he decided to be reborn to this life.

In the reign of the Antichrist, on this hellish plane,

he waited only for me.  For three times four

long years, he waited only for me.


In a hospital bed, to be sacrificed,

a halo around his balding head, in a robe

of white, upon the burning coals of this

downward slope – only to be born again,

here, with me, his nemesis, his twin.

Praying for Saturn’s Return

Posted in We Are the Underground with tags , , , on December 29, 2014 by Israfel Sivad


Last to leave the earth

destroyed by your impiety,

I remain pure to this day.


First, father executed mother,

leaving me imprisoned in

a bronze reign to establish


the Church as I see fit…

poets and playwrights, children

for whom I bear nothing


but your culture’s renaissance:

joy and love, oriented only

by my “non-mathematical”


revelation of your planet’s

staid motion.  Discover!

Track your Beast – analytic,


observant – through the night

perceptive with memories

to balance your physics.


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