To Sit Upon The Throne

To Sit Upon The Throne

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


To sit upon the throne
Is a job for Perfection alone
For sitting without atrophy
Is an unattainable trophy
Except to God Almighty
Who still bothers with our cheek
That often lusts for His lower cheeks.

So the only thrones we fools can sit on?
Porcelain.

I Killed God, Right?

I Killed God, Right?

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


I killed God
But my suffering continues
Through my own hand
For God is as good as we fools are
As my best friend the Devil said
With these impossible growths we get
To end all of ourselves
Because we don’t make any sense
And we can only doubt
As our only faith and rules
That shouldn’t exist as well
But we keep on existing
With this freedom
We are cursed
So we lie
In a wakeful dream
Where we killed God
I killed God
Right?

Dishonest Death Seeker’s Depths

Dishonest Death Seeker’s Depths

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


My wish for death is a lie
For I only seek to cheat it
To wrench its scythe from its hands
To reap fruits at my leisure
Fruits I never sowed, never grew
But the heavens already blessed me with
All for weeds that would only spoil those fruits
Weeds that could be more than such but would rather not
Weeds like me if I keep this up.

Deep inside, I do not wish to die
I only envy death’s life
Being turned into a friend of the heavens
As if I am a monster worse than death
As if I never liked being a monster
But I am
And I never did.

Still Your Treasure

Still Your Treasure

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


Why entrust to me these scraps
When they are your treasures?
I already have my own, and they do not blend with yours.

My treasures are a burden to me too
Just like yours are to you
But they are the best burdens we can have
Even with the distance between us two.

And even then, if the heavens would change mine
I would let my treasure be changed
And my grumbling humiliated.

Maybe your scraps would be my treasure too
But it will always be your treasure
Whether shared or not
So trust in the miracle
That makes who you truly are.

War Confession

War Confession

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


I’ve heard us say that love is war
Along with our proclamations against such madness
So this warmth I feel when I think of you
Would you call it my simmering hatred?

You will receive my support
My time, my money, my strength
My whole self, but do not ask for my love
Or I will make you keep those scraps I’ll give

I will obey what you want
Like you’re above the God I believe in
But if you dare ask for my love
I will treat you like a fellow scumbag.

The world can try to paint it as a comedy
But we’ll laugh at each other’s bleeding bodies
If we ever ask for each other’s love
And free us from all this lying.

A Moment of Silence Today

A Moment of Silence Today

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


We need a moment of silence
But we need to speak up
About issues about problems
About the news about gossip
About how somebody died
Through some words spoken
About some named person
Brought up with spikes through them
Hanging on their wood for love
Bearing no cross marking wrong
Answers, that’s all we want
As we leash our breaths up
For our research on silence
Which means death which means emptiness
Which means hell which means earth again
And again and again and I’ll gain
Knowledge that doubts the truths of the earth
Doubted with the restraint of heaven, I burn
Like Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in the cave
We sing of every December day.

How The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing Became Infamous

How The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing Became Infamous

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


When a certain wolf dressed up as a sheep
He attracted the shepherds who were gluttons for sleep
As they had found a charge that could actually charge
Against any wolves who wanted their parts
Even though the “sheep” had some wolfy spots
They thought that God had blessed their hearts
So they went on to get drunk and then sleep again
Until they found the fake eating a real one’s head
Though they waved it all off as a needed sacrifice
For such strength would come at a great price
Such as sheep that could not defend themselves
Much like the “sheep” that drove the wolves to the hills
But then again, the pasture now housed the kin
Wolves who followed suit and dressed like their new head
Whose head still hadn’t been eaten off
By real wolves that seemed already gone
So the shepherds went on to get drunk and then sleep even more
Until they had to tire to shear off some wool, of course
So the shepherds found real wolves underneath their clothes
And found that the wool was sheared for them before
So they found themselves sheared by the wolves
And the shepherds blushed forevermore.

Jesus, King of the Problematic

Jesus, King of the Problematic

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo


Here lies Jesus, King of the Problematic
Called himself “The Chosen”
Jailed with the bigoted
Wouldn’t let go of the hopeless
Said he loved them all
Hated letting them hang without full fall

He could’ve been a good rainbow man
But he let Judas kiss him like that
He could’ve ended empires
But he made Herod and Pilate friends
He could’ve been a good Jew
But he let Hitler be born into our world
Why make our undeserved suffering even worse?

At least bigots hate him today
For such men, it’s the only exception we’ll make
If he resurrected, then he’s a cockroach
But even as he’s dead, his cultists still approach
As silent as he was accused
Worse than the calls of Cthulhu
But we’re not making a religion out of this.

Fires of Heaven

Fires of Heaven

a poem by The Overlord Bear/Jem De Ocampo for his dad’s birthday


May the fires of heaven burn away my sin
Through retribution, restoration, whatever means You wish.
The fires of hell are heaven’s flames without mercy,
Flames You entrusted to us but we used to damn us sinners.

May the fires of heaven illuminate my path
Through the sun up above, a lamp in hand, whatever form You want.
The fires of hell are heaven’s flames in vain,
Flames to make us guides but we used to drive astray.

May the fires of heaven warm my heart into virtue
Through a slow burn, a sudden surge, whatever way You will.
The fires of hell are heaven’s flames made proud,
Flames You shared to us but we shared without love.

May the fires of heaven burn and light and warm
Through anything and everything, as long as You want it done.
I am one of many fools who may turn them into hell’s,
But Your faith saves me, or I cannot save myself.