Reaching out to the Wolf

From a dark maw it has risen
Shapeless shade of doubtful reason,
Seeks to bring another season
'Tis the season of the WOLF.

From the forest he appeared,
Howling away those who feared,
But his cry our hearts has seared
And we befriended the WOLF.

On that day none was aware
Of the joy that we would share
Betwixt fancy, calm and care
We look up to the WOLF!
Reaching Out to the Wolf



Poem by Azazel
Picture by Elise Bast

Open eyes

Diazepam is my new best friend. makes me feel loose and chill...makes me forget what I did last night, makes me feel all relaxed and desirable when alone in between the sheets. I snuggle myself in my own warmth under my blanket...pink. My blanket is pink...all my blankets were pink. Except for one. That one was red. And oh...how many tears have filled it, and how many orgasms I sweated in it, and how many opium dreams I have had under it's protective warmth. All my adolescence was in there...my drunken nights, my withdrawals, my hopes, my happy dreams and nightmares...everything.
But that blanket was probably set on fire. I wouldn't want it anyway...contaminated with something else but my Golden Age. 
I will find a new trinket to fill with my energies. My new energies, my strong self. 
I like my new universe. Filled with pixels, poems, drawings, nightlife...my best friend beside me, we're out at night doing our best to troll people. In every way possible. Fucking up their routers, their accounts, their cables or cars. Loads of fun lay in the dark. 
We mostly walk the same old streets but somehow, they seem new to me every time. 
"Shall we get a coffee?"
"Sure, my love."

We laugh and dance and we're higher than ever. Our voices rise in the night scaring the living shit out of cats or passers by. 

Hackers? A major threat. LOL.

The art of orgasming is not in sex, but in the scene, the air, the feeling, the touch. The kiss.

Sun shines over our faces much too soon. 

It's time to go back inside and sleep, for a new night awaits...

What is it with you?!

As all my days have passed,
You're never here
You'll never last.
And as your tears all dry away
I know you won't heal me today..

But i know...there is something in the dark,
something lurking, sneaking,
lusting for your soul..
All the memories of me
Burning in the flame  you set for me.

It's on your head
It's on your hands
No rain could wash
The scars that I had left
In your skin as I struggled
to brake free !


Now this poem has no rhyme, has no feeling and no shame
But what it has is something that you'll never see.