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$carecrowStand up. Pack your holes with money. Open your arms and purchase an infrastructure to keep you tall. House a thousand tiny lives conducting paperwork, texting one another and wishing they were home. Never wash yourself. Always look North. Always the same direction. One day. Climb yourself. Look off the edge. See the sun set for the first time. Follow it down. A monumental and expensive scarecrow. Smiling sleeping from now on.
Disgusting Queen Earth #1
City lights molest stars
under the mini-skirt of preteen night.
Sky-scraping fallaces reach deeply upward
housing one thousand little men clamoring for 1st place.
It's raining mindless drops of nothing here, and
I'm sitting on the tip of the city trying very hard not to be disposable.
Sheets of pavement lap at my feet.
I guess this is the best it has ever been, or ever will be.
Disliking empty things, I rejected you.
I say hollow, you say goodbye.
We split in three without the will to try.
When I was 12 I severed cords to feel their power,
perhaps less brave than in the room below with father.
He's drilling teeth inside his skull with a phillips head
while I creep up stairs pondering how much he has bled
Despite methanphetamines I still love my dear mother
She's picking shards of glass from the inside of her arm
and I don't have the heart to tell her they aren't.
The tweezers are stuck in her wrist.
The turning of the world persists.
There is no smoke around now that the bullet's sleeping.
Mother's gun has been put to bed so long ago.
I turn around and see the years of my life need weeding,
buried sideways in the air,
a rotten pile just behind me,
it's reaching for my hand but I don't mind.
Swimming in a FloodI don't see much point in people like you
People like you don't see much in point in eyeing it out
No one likes my poetry until it's already happening
A shitty bouquet of words
It's really neat.
Missing out on so much invisible fun
means someone sucks at the art of non-desire
He chose his colored glasses and
with hipster flair declared "this is who I am"
But if I remove the glasses, he puts on a mask.
and if he puts on a mask, you will literally never see his muscle,
and you will never see his blood,
and you'll keep wondering how someone could move
under so many layers of skin.
Now more than ever nothing happens.
I keep apologizing to my child, saying
"What can I do? I love you."
There was that one time that Suzanne
had been so afraid that she held me, just that once,
against my father's flood. And he busted us up anyway.
I guess I'll never forgive you until you die.
There. It's the most straightforward thing I've said.
Now slowly leave my memory.
Eyes spin like arachnids in the slab of velvet you hide behind.
We got in a terrible car crash and you couldn't help but laugh through the tears
piloting salt through two perfect towers paced in perfect pitch
to crush a fist of glass, you perfect bitch.
Nothing should prepare my queer heart to guard from talented women
June, desperate for control, the sinister lack of control.
I'm stealing your words, hit me as hard as you can.
It's your birthday, we're all your biggest fan.
My stomach is your bitch getting facefucked from behind,
look, what style, what gilded slut to host this frame of mind.
Chances are you're falling backwards through the mud
claiming it's a journey of one thousand miles. Thud.
Adaption of Oscar Wilde's...No need to waste the foolish tear,
Or heave the windy sigh:
The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.
And all men kill the thing they love,
By all let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword.
So here, my fist upon its shaft,
a saber lifted high,
I exhale your name from out my chest,
and kill you one last time.
One strike for wishing me my death,
a second out of spite,
a third for making my child a threat,
a fourth ensures you die,
Now every strike from here on out
can be counted to the credit,
of men who hold dearly on to love
while women do forget it.
In my gut a black planet begins to turn
with wreathes of white and lightning burn.
I smell sweet ions charge the air
and drink up life in atmosphere.
Let's play chess.
Surreal Painting of a Face
another day falls like a rock.
The hours bend likes wreaths of sand obscuring what was lost.
the calendar's not aware
of the ripping off of days, they're tossed, and fall like broken hair.
I forget just why I'm here.
I slip from dream to consciousness and realize you're not near.
Drowning in this AddicitonI tried to drown out your voice
Inside the lies, I made my choice
With my lips against the bottle
I tried to swallow the memories
I put the speed of my destruction
In complete full throttle
I brought this about, a self induction
Laying here drowning in my worries.
Just laying here in my corruption.
I could whisper to you my series of sorrows,
Instead I'll just lay here in my low,
Or I could borrow another bottle
Of sweet nectar and fire
As my blood acquires
The song of a liar.
Brittle and bare,
Lay me to rest on the wave
Aware I am this may be my early grave
with a kiss to my Jackie D.
Like a whisper to the noose waiting
For me under the elm tree
as I am aching for another bottle
Of sweet nectar and fire
As I try to rejoice
I think I finally have forgotten your voice.
subterfuge at the cube farmreclaimed meat
we were once solemn beings
like epaulets from imperious shoulders
diluted in bottles and sold
back to our fledgling descendants
curfew urgencya calamine itch of faith
with the wrong enzyme in the right coincidence
far from our former
jigsaw made for sadists
and burgeoned forth a neon beacon
built by bedlam hominids
germane in our inertia painting
perfect arcs through space
a life expressed by movement
through non-newtonian fluid (s)
the pristine math
left by those we have replaced
Last will and testiment of a fallen angelI being of sound body and mind do here by leave ..... this world to the flames.
Another time another place, I may not have succumb to much disgrace.
A cold ember of what might have been, If I'd have known this to happen.
We walk the cold streets at night. We live now by the moonlight.
Wings broken and no more, I walk alone but with a whore.
Seeking salvation from the fool, I knew not this till I met you.
Another day another time. broken hearts distorted rhyme.
Trust and you'll be trusted said the liar to the fool
An AgreementStop, thee, now!
Do not attempt to silence my private brooding;
do not try to dry my eyes, -
they are busy cleansing themselves.
I am allowing my emotions
of my physical form-
I may take these sorrows;
and write them.
I will load them in a pen
and scribble down
my clearly disorganized thoughts
on an aged square
of yellowing paper,
of your selfish actions.
I will detail
-to the world-
how you attempted
to seize from me
in the form of
and tear-streaked eyes, -
-so brazenly- attempted
the fragile metaphysical agreement
between my physical form
and my soul.
The truth about Eli.I'm looking into brown eyes
down the barrel of gun
and I inhale,
then turn pale,
and the day becomes undone.
My face reflected
in silver bullets
but the cups not full its
And I'm running out of AIR.
I consider it a crime
to diffuse my meaning
in prose more purple.
I won't lie.
Yes, I will,
My work isnt about pain,
its about beauty.
Ugly words are the spaces left behind,
just because I rhymed doesnt
make them any less mine.
Whether I write for love or hate
is not up for debate.
Its not a decision you can make,
its one I've had to fake,
so I know what I'm talking about.
A piece of poetry clearly defines
the abstract positions taken
by an individual
But thats not true.
Not even close.
Its just a little morose
to think that it might be a part of me.
that you cant fill
up with lies and distractions.
I thrive on interactions.
I am in love with being sad
because it feels real
and I dont have to steal
an emotional exc
Velum TempestumWiatr przyniesie sól, deszcze i ból
Pod chmurnym niebem zapłaczą drzewa
Ja będę wyć, rozdzierać i bić
Rozetnę słońce pazurem cienia
Deszczu biczem uderzę w twą twarz...
Zostawię na niej szramy
Bo jam jest sztormu pan i gradu,
Jestem ja wiatr nieokiełznany!
Jam Orkan, Huragan, Tajfun,
Uderzę znów, pełnia czy nów
Gdy nie będziecie się spodziewać
Przyniosę deszcz, przyniosę gniew
I gradobicie i los i cios!
poor directionsit's a drug
addicts so high
waking each day
crawling for miles
for a drop on their tongues
a sweet sound in their ears
a tainted air in their lungs
retreat to faith
when you run out
let's be brutally honest
it's another excuse
a desperate delusion
you've lost your reason
you've lost your dreams
you've lost your way
are you so empty?
are you so blind?
are you so weak?
with a promise of forgiveness
you can be as immoral as you need
it's okay to rape and to kill, God'll forgive
are you out of your fucking mind?
you're excused for crimes
because you prayed tonight?
how do you live in these lies?
has your need for answers
led you completely astray?
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More