Author name: Hayden Veil

In an earlier incarnation, Hayden Veil enjoyed a successful career in software engineering, writing late-night poetry in pursuit of sanity. On 2 February 2020, the world of Hayden Veil changed: Ghosts became real and with its soul laid bare there was no turning back from the perpetual path of poetry.

The voice of God never quite penetrated his wax filled ears. โ€œDo not judge a Word by the vessel it came through.โ€, was inadvertently picked up as โ€œTwitter is the salvation of humanityโ€ which caused all sort of issues down the line.

Excerpt from Divinity and the Art of Cleanliness

lies bind us

unshaved – rabbit ears; whipped cream dreams;
admiral Kane – breaker of bane; ties that bind us; shout out; a magic word; stopping pain and extacy; the lust of two; stopping not; lies bind us tight; until death comes

karmic debt

The leftovers from a life of old, a passed life still in memories recurring, the living in
the workshop, beneath a bench, squalor, the long long hours, longer still, the karmic debt is being repaid.

If God owned a gun it would be a water pistol filled with Nectar

Passage from The Scriptures According to The Survivor (revised 42nd edition)

The exact nature of the binding was unknown to him but it was likely to involve time shifting and image distortion. He would never have agreed to be born into such a mess voluntarily

Excerpt from The Chronicles of the Man Who Confused Time

back turned

You use her, abuse her, love her fractional pattern, binary headroom insufficient, the laws ensuring, love is fractal in open space, pounding her flesh at dawn, bleeding, back turned.

Vaccine

Vaccine walking tall, addicted to the raw, raw fire soon burning bright; the sun kissed raw; raw scorching heat; Heather burning bright on slopes of uncertain bees; honey to be as bee to honey; honey loved me once; she was my last love

summer duvet

Epic fail, sleeping through the day, no daylight reaching my tired brain, no response to texting friends, just turning the other way, in bed. Cold left and cold right, summer duvet still covering, the silent man, wishing for more, though doubting God’s plan will ever come true.

mushroom cloud – I hate you

If you have the guts and
space to accommodate
I’ll take you to the peak, the
orgasm of your life, to shiver and
shake, rattle as the snake you
are. I’ll pull the pin, just before I
shove it up your holiest of
holy, I promise the ride will be in
glory, your juices flowing, with
death hovering; above.

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