Flickering Husk
by R.J. Calzonetti
Heavy metal Armageddon courses through the incorporeal chords of an iron heartbeat, the cables plugged into oblivion, crimson rhythm of autotuned hallucinations
When I exercise, my demons, they only grow stronger
I’m only cross with those I crucify
Restrained in the dark
Estranged is my heart
The strings of the orchestra in my chest an extraterrestrial ambidexterity imperatively
triceratops of apocalyptic ventriloquists that are distancing infinity
Manipulating alliterations that scream guillotines of gears interwoven tears a myriad of cable clad cadavers overthrown mitosis genomes
The edge of my heart is as fragile as glass shards, sharp as a blade, serenaded arrogance an amputation of spirit from the chimera machine raging condensating bloodstained hatred emulated from the sacred revelations of dilapidated afterimages
I'm a basilisk of cataclysms risen from the prison of dread beheading a circumcision’s aneurism
The sun shines on my exoskeleton, bright with the enlightenment of monochrome metronomes singing oblivion, metal devils celebrate malevolence as it emanates from the disgraced forsaken
My euthanasia nomenclature hallucinations are photogenic psychiatric catastrophes cardiovascular Rorschach’s
Patterned with over-exaggerated mavericks who sabotage auditory mitochondria argonauts of diabolical electroconvulsive impulses
These intercontinental evangelicals, their melancholy philosophy a lobotomy’s colonoscopy psychotropic falsehoods impulsive exodus
Microorganisms metamorphosis into solace gone totalitarian
Hysteria megalomaniac rhapsody’s castaways' mayhems constellations contaminated matriarch of immaterial atmospheric tyranny peering through the looking glass
Of refractory zodiacs primordials traffic sociopath of blitzkrieg aftermath intergalactic acolytes with the transmogrified photosynthesized incinerating incandescent biotechnology of
incorporeal astrology chronologically divulging symphonic polymerization glazing complacencies in the face of aether machinations
I grow agoraphobia phantasmagorical in the orifices of my corpus, Morpheus, of steel ethereal, cyborg cornucopia, the strands of data eradicated
My iron soul stricken to shapeshifting ellipsis, the totalled exordial the hangman, a doppelgänger of onomatopoeia my skull thick obsidian slithering through prime meridian Olympia of electric epidemic cosmologists of apologist's omniscience
My forbidden rhythm shivering Yiggdrasil of umbilical silicon the robotic Solomon enthralling mitochondria to the hyperbolic sovereignties
The night left my soul metamorphosized a disciple to hermaphrodite lycanthropes dystopian misanthrope
My flesh shed, withered, deliverance, and the blood ran like a child from a shadow on the wall
And that shadow became I
The child faded into this fire
Inside the tomb of metal sheet, no equilibrium
The chill of a million heartbeats rang like a bell under the church of metallurgy
The defibrillator gave me a head start, have heart, have lunacy, one unity
Become a shell for a bullet, casing this joint for another shot at life on the run
I've been lead astray, on the astral plane of my suffering
Vengeful for Armageddon those who seek a heaven resonating through the steel heart discarded by martyrs disembodied dichotomy walk the path to solitude
Become a light to burn the seconds, kill some time with me
Let the smoke carry the disease like the breeze gleeful
Deceitful ash, kleptomaniac of souls burning internally
The iron soul murmuring bloodcurdling
The steel demonized by the hammer, shaped by it
The shattered need a husk to gather, Amaterasu
Amputated catalysts cadavers turned to satellite slices of life
The asylum violated by the siren of silence, the ringing polygamy of hate
The love of stitching obituaries, tempestuous epilepsies rejecting by the rippers of
photosynthesis
Pick the flower from the field, dig for the root, give its flesh to your lover, grow your own form
of truth
Because when we all burn, melt to iron, violets, psychic snapdragons ripped from the stem
The little pieces are whole again
In their decomposition
The petals rend infinite, by cremation, bury them, carry the chains that keep us one with life
I want to be free,
Like a flower that was never stepped on by man
Metal sentiment for a skin that has been burning like the wallpaper of a maelstrom
I call home, the iron soul’s inferno
Immortal is Death's resurrection
Reincarnated from when Death used to live my existence
Before it became envious of me
And stole me as a trophy
Because no one wins anything in life
One has to take what you can never have
To receive compensation for their greed
To give your all to steal this world
Insanctuary for a sanity of lifespans mangled by humanity
Damned by our division
Crowded crows without vision
Alone in God's grimace, no pity
Souls rotting redefined by cities like grapes on the vine
Smiles and spines, sunshine, pride
Why is this flickering hope so cold inside?
Is the wicker not alight, is the dark still bright?
A husk or scythe, dusk's twilight vice nurtured, deserted by virtue
I want to accept you, but I've called with no reply, I'm out of time
I don't have a message to give, just words reemerging
Should I walk the fine line, or run away from life
I'm so broken, do I cast the die for the last time?
The final rhyme? Murder the tune intertwined?
Open the door to my heart, I don't want to be a husk of a memory
I was never your enemy, just an empty cemetery with a fire forging my spirit
Tired of respite, take back my life
I want to be heard, the sound of mind never turned for the record
Darkness will show me the light, give back my heist, redemption
My tongue has been earned, I give you my word serpentine
Give me another chance, in this alabaster glasshouse
Until death, rustling my last breath like the fallen colours
Decayed mementos of yesterday's sunray
Left me alone and afraid
A shell in a cage, a light flickering in the shade
And the shadow it made
It stepped into my nightmare world
And I realized I was a machine's daydream
About R.J.
R.J Calzonetti is a Canadian born poet with an Italian, Irish, and Scottish background. He has been attending poetry slams for several years, and inspired by the beauty of words, decided to write his own poems. Within three years of writing since age 19, he has written nearly four-hundred different pieces, some of them being short stories, and the rest poems. He also wrote an unpublished novella and composed his own music before switching over to poetry. R.J is diagnosed with several mental illnesses and spent years struggling with depression, living in hospitals for two and a half years to receive treatment and medication. Along the way, he lost many of his skills, friends, as well as his physical health. Eventually, he nearly gave up. These days, R.J is trying to give his understanding to others with mental illness. He volunteers to help adults with disabilities learn or relearn how to socialize in a group setting with a local organization. He is working to get a degree in Social Service Work, so he can better reach out to those with similar problems. Rather than take away from his writing, his illness fuels it. Giving him a strange style that reads as abstract. He is a two-year finalist at the Burlington Slam Project in Ontario, Canada. He is reaching out to new avenues, hoping to share his work.