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The Woman

The woman, she moves;

Dancing to oblivion

Into the lost nights.

The dance is enlightenment,

Unintentional gnosis.

The woman, she moves;

A ritual dance between

Darkness, light, and life,

Ritual and death, motion,

Inebriated gnosis.

The woman, she moves;

Primal movement, a dark trance,

Writhing ecstasy.

Movement into living death.

Dancing into the gnosis.

The woman, she moves; rapture.

The woman, she moves . . . Gnosis.


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Life in the Alley

Within silent streets
And deserted dark allies,
Lies the empty hearts
Of the degenerate streets
Seeking consumption of life.

-Hunter Coch

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White Light

A heart falls apart,
Shattered on the southern sun.

The light ends at night,
To be born again, white light.

But yet the stars never end.

-Hunter Coch

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Claws of Water

Icy wretched pain
Radiating from within,
Why does it persists?

With the glow of agony
Claws of water tear the eyes.

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I See

I see a woman
Desperate to keep faith to an
Absent man of war.

I see a lone man
Rejected by a woman
Long lost long ago.

I see a couple
Sitting in a dark corner
Lost in lust and love.

I see the drunkards
Desperate for life
To take them away.

-Hunter Coch

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The Sewer

A hive of life
In duality;
The lotus and the rose.

Passion and spirit,
Romance and the rage of lust
Lying together.

A den of sin
With saints
Devoted to the streets.

Preaching lustful deeds
And speaking of the divine
Words of Sophia.

A place of spirits
And life;
Dancing between realms.

Where dark and light dance
Attracting duality;
Seductive rapture.

A realm of between,
A singularity
Of passion and prudence.

What does music bring,
But the union of life, death,
And all in between.

The joy of dancing within,
The fire of letting go.

That is life in the sewer.

-Hunter Coch

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Taking Pills

Taking pills
To kill the anxiety
Dulls the will to create.

Taking pills
To function in life
Rips the heart and soul.

Taking pills
To live the dream
Drives the nightmare.

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Creative Chaos

Darkness in the heart
Of matter’s dancing dream-scape.
Infinity falls,
To the beat of disaster.

Creativity rages.


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Art

Art should not be safe.

Poetry is seduction,
Music is fire,
Painting is for the insane.

Art is the mad flame of love.

-Hunter Coch-


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Premonition

She looked within me
From across the crowded room,
Eyes of lust and steele.
And it was in that moment
I knew what the night would bring.

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