Blog # 10: The Misanthrope (part 1)

Blog # 10: The Misanthrope  (part 1)


‘Til Tomorrow


Staring, eyeless,

into the void

of Death—

a thread of corporeity,


all that holds me back.

This finite life


with dark matter…

all I have never been.

Oppression of passing time


but eternity

would not be enough,

and ‘til tomorrow

takes too long.



CANTO I:  Bohemian Rhapsody


They don’t care…

most of them don’t even know—

how could they?

Why should they?…

But if they did,

they still wouldn’t—

the bastards!—

and that’s the whole point,

then, isn’t it!…


Drifting through a silent fog

of solitary existence…

floating atop the fetid quagmire

of a reality that goes nowhere…

stagnating in the mucky-muck-muck

of the fucky-fuck-fucked-up

society of barbarous being…

ever dragging me down

to unacceptable and exciting

new depths of degradation—


I writhe…

I wallow…

I slither all about

as if yet shedding my scales

for flesh and hair and nails,

dragging myself along the shore

to the subterfuge of evolution

in the tree-tops…

day chases night

into summer chasing winter—

but a flash of light,

a shroud of darkness,

a flush of warmth,

a shriek of cold…

the centuries fade away

into ages and eons,

and all that never changes

is the delusion

we have progressed—

that we have become more

than the animals we once were…


—we are yet,

and shall always be,

the primitives we started off as…

it is only the act

of pretending to be appalled

by our savage natures

that has become more elaborate…

we are but actors,

feigning sainthood

as we revel in sin…

enslaved to the burdens

of corporeity…



Madness of a Mad God


So sits the Mad God

In Divine contemplation,

Thinking on the plight of the world

And His place, if any, within it…

The other Gods stand idly by—

On aloof and lonely mountains,


Beneath cold, uncaring seas,

Within the stark cruelty of barren deserts—

The darkening glow of Judgment

Burning in Their eyes:

“We do not taunt You—

Though it would be justified if We did—

For You mock Yourself

By Your own existence….”


The frailties of the mortal world,

The weaknesses inherent in the human condition,

Wrap Me in their clinging bonds,

And it is as being enfolded by Death

With the tenderness of a lover’s embrace…

Kali nuzzles close

With Her promises of sin and seduction,

Of Infinite Being through consumption by Her love—

But I unwrap Her from around Me and roll free,

Telling Her I have a headache….


Forever guided toward complacency—

Tread softly… behave Yourself…

Well, perhaps I do,

And the world just has the wrong rules…

Poseidon is all wet;

Thor is left thunderstruck;

Hades wanders in darkness;

Osiris tries to pull Himself together;

Odin is half blinded by His own wisdom;

Hephaestus gets all weak in the knees;

Loki cheats at cards…

So I really don’t understand

Why I should constantly be blamed

For everything I do….


In all things, I surpass even Myself—

Yet I am too far behind,

Left too deeply in shadow, to see it;

Powerless to wield the Omnipotence

That is My birthright,

I look to Zeus—

A comrade in arms,

A kindred spirit,

The brother I never had,

As though My second self…

Where, then, is My Aegis,

To protect Me and keep the world at bay?…


For those who would be Gods—

Or the living incarnation of Godly power—

For the Pharaohs and Caesars and starry-eyed prophets,

Lost in their delusions of grandeur

And feats of magnanimous self-aggrandizement,

You would do well to note,

It isn’t that the world has fallen—

The lofty ideals of man have always far outshone

The realization of those ideals…

But man looks to the Gods

To find who he thinks he should be,

And there was always more of war than of wisdom

In the heart of glorious Athena….


Against the harsh rantings of the world around Me,

Forever opposing what I do and who I am,

Through the feeble, incoherent ravings

Of My own chaotic thoughts,

The only thing Omniscience ever did for Me

Was to allow but a glimpse of the Truth—

I don’t know anything about anything…

So I fall on My knees

And stare into the blinding light of Eternity—

But it only hurts My eyes;

The sought-after and elusive answers,

Offering Oblivion through Shiva’s destruction

Or the Redemption of Ahura Mazda’s enlightenment,

Remain damnably unknown….

Ensconced by the heady awareness

Invoked by the rich lifeblood of heavenly Nectar—

Or a cheap Chianti, which is easier to come by—

The meditations of the Mad God

Draw finally to a conclusion:

Sanity is but an illusion—

The lie created to convince

That the world should make sense…

And, so, what matter could it possibly make

In denying the world entirely

And surrendering to the Madness….



4:23 a.m.  (More Musings – #6)


I exist within a tiny bubble—

less than a millimeter tall…

or—no-no—I am huge!

Nearly a tenth of a millimeter!…


I loom over all and every,

overshadowing the heavens with

the dark matter of my being…

dead gods fall from

the corruption of

my essence…


vodka-soaked, waking dreams

through obscuring smoke—

time unraveled,

my spirit unfurled…

nothing really matters—

bedamn’d is the world…


I am become Death—

blight upon the living,

bringer of darkness,

seducer of innocence,

ravager of souls…


 # # # #



—Mishka Zakharin  © 2014

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