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Assassination In The Hashish Cathedral

by Haiku Funeral

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1.
2.
Assassination in the Hashish Cathedral A rain of bats in a black parade acid hatched in lacerated dawn. The dying hallucinations panting on the floor gasp their last as gods with heads of insects storm from wounds of light as I finger the ruins of your smile. Asphyxia in the crowded hour of the wolf Assassination in the hashish cathedral Like a smashed palace submerged in the blackened wines of time, or a headless infant retching dream-mothers whose eyes shine vacuums of patricide and delight. Visions of you in a vivisected room: cleaned, polished, erasing the stains of your second head rupturing from within the slavering lotus of the first, your other mouth masticating violently, vomiting impossible sonnets of betrayal your ecstatic excising of the poisoned lung Asphyxia in the crowded hour of the wolf Assassination in the hashish cathedral In a whisper of veils, a sinister grin, an opiate cocoon that conceals the transforming you: wincing apostle, the mineral scream trapped in the dream of you and me sucking so listlessly at the disintegrating bosom of doom the disintegrating bosom of our insatiable, blessed doom our lovely, beautiful doom our perfect, insatiable doom. Asphyxia in the crowded hour of the wolf Assassination in the hashish cathedral
3.
The Jewelry of Your Suffering Sky lit up with fever, raving in its dreams, the nightflowers slashing open their faces in sudden surgeries of sight. An image obliterated abbreviation of breath in viscous autumn. Your wet eyes behind the cold door searching for defeat, trapped in a shattering of glass and a remembrance of charred stars. Painting the air with our filth, a worm the size of the wind chews luminous tunnels through the snakepit of our lies the writhing, fanged loveletters carving poems in your flesh the most beautiful words ever committed to crime, to the frozen identity of your wounded eyes your thighs welcoming the night, the hour spilling its black honey in midnight's trembling hive. Poisoned November staggers bloated into the rigor mortis room, abominations dripping from his lips as he offers his chalice of infection to the gaping idiot moon who only listens to the bald void caressing her scars, lovingly licking her cratered retardation. Yet the flame of your navel and the seam of your smile slowly unravel the topography between your breasts smooth as parables, tasting of lightning and thunder's punishing kiss. The jewel of your suffering The litany of your love for me The decapitated angel in your death-white hands The darkening...the sharpening. The damp incision of you tenderly dissecting our festering disease our eviscerated empire that quivers as it bleeds.
4.
Нощ Течна Майко Тръни постлани Черни прежди Мъртви свещи Течни майки Хвърлят бесни кълнове В прясна нива Луди гарвани Бият с криле времето Израстват дървета Но раждат застой Кухи тикви Дрънкат бесни Кълнове, клюнове Ти изля отровата си в мен! Втора луна Червена води стихове Бяла кърпа Нощем летят символи Свинска сватба Роклята ти стене Змийско мляко Капе от лицето ти Слаба змия без гърди Държи дълга бяла свещ Гънки огряли Тънко изваяни Топли и твърди Черни прежди Слаба змия без гърди Държи дълга бяла свещ Ела!
5.
Let the Drug-Sick Visions Begin Love slaps your face as you thrust out your tongue to lick the swollen shank of cobra-headed scorn. Scrape away our smiles in this insecticide kiss toxic mandibles ravage our lips. And we crawl out of our skins into a storm crimson rituals scarring primordial dawn. Silhouettes shriek in our overdosed sky, shot through to their death pornographic suicide. The stars sweat on their hands and knees, ejaculating luminosity, scintillant disease. And we crawl out of our skins into a storm crimson rituals scarring primordial dawn. Let the drug-sick visions begin! O my darling, my darling who writhes in psychosexual sin. An image of me in a straitjacket of dread, a glimmer of you bleeding in bed like a rose gone mad with virtue and fire purring paroxysms as you open your thighs the tender decay of our bloodshot eyes bouquets of bruises punctuate our demise. Blaspheming this feast with infested words, electrical deities unleash their ebony birds in our cemetery of shame, our prophecy of pain crucified in a halo of flame. Let the drug-sick visions begin! O my darling, my darling who writhes in psychosexual sin. In a grinding of teeth and a clashing of glands we burn into the other as I take your cracked hands and place them on the scepter of death infernal totem, eruption of flesh that explodes in your throat, pouring nightmares in the coffin of your bones the blistering blitzkrieg of your screaming black holes.
6.
Погребение Прясна Черна Енергия Аз съм В теб
7.
The Forever Book of Smoke She opens her mouth like a casket, an infinite sucking throb in endless, narrow heat. Other women in white their heads red planets aggravate the air, perfume it with the scent of their knives. She goes again to howl quietly at the windows of the moon, silver crawling on her like a rapist's disease. Skin splitting, gashes gathering a new vocabulary, a sign language of mutated organs. Thunder at the door, snarling and gnawing as the evening is torn apart. She opens the forever book of smoke and I read its delirium. The fragrance of her rage decorates the torture chamber of our bed, and incantations palpitate in the starry air between her lips her orgasmic prayer the epileptic autopsy of her kiss.
8.
Черна Лудница Чувам те татко Скован тук от времето Кога бяхме хора Още виждам царството Стопи сега ледовете Да тругнем пак заедно Сами сред зверовете Носещи неизбежна смърт Нека да чуя твоята ТИШИНА И ще си спомня името си Нека да чуя твоята ИСТИНА За да заплачат всички
9.
The Failing of Feathered Light In a final rupture of flight she anoints the air with the faltering birds of her breath, and beneath the wing of warm infinity she submits to the failing of feathered light the diminishing song of herself as she clenches and unclenches her talons and meditates in the festering nest of time.

about

Dark poems of sick erotic visions,
Tortured screams in industrial landscapes,
Occult murmurings and eerie whispers

credits

released October 31, 2009

DIM - Electronics, Vox, Hallucinogenics
WMK - Bass, Vox, Delirium

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all rights reserved

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about

Haiku Funeral Marseille, France

HAIKU FUNERAL was born in a smoke-filled recording studio in Marseille, France on Halloween night of 2008. The result is music that could be described as hallucinogenic, sinister, and visionary.

HAIKU FUNERAL is:
Dimitar Dimitrov (electronics, keyboards, vocals)
William Kopecky (bass, vocals)

They torment strange instruments and devices like theremin, e-bow, spring-drum, children’s harp...
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