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 Jul 2019
zebra
the virgins ravenous vault
college girl ******
a seething abashment
with mixed loyalties
who belongs to no one
ferocious for annihilation
*** blast
poured out from essence
spread shanks
wet spot
hot shots
meditative and gleaming

huge hearted
she is one and many
choking on desire
far flung in Turkish bath fantasies
a singing **** tearing heaps of suns
like burns and spatters
her ***, a high pitched note
his ****, rage at bay
poised hot **** ****
gasping fire

*** criminal's

foot kissing
****** biters
Sylvia Plath was referred to as "The Smith College ******" in some biographical material. I love her poetry, like incredibly, and so by the proxy of her literature I remain very much in love with her both as a writer and as a woman, albeit a vivid fantasy. That love remains amplified by her suicide as I find myself still aching about her now, 50 years after her death. I remain continually mesmerized by the appalling dread, yet sensuality of her draped corpse hanging out of the oven. Her dead body is an ineffable poem of grace in form and shuddering despair. I always want to rescue her.... It gnaws! This poem is prompted by Sylvia Plath, a Goddess of modern language, her youthful passions, and inconsolable despair.
 Jul 2019
zebra
just because you're dead
doesn't mean we aren't dating anymore
does it?
i am haunted
hearing you read a poem in my head,
dead
so we must have chemistry
or am i interminably obsessed
like a ghostly house
while your poems
have there way with me
rumbling down my phantom thigh
breathing
on the layaway plan 
ghastly pumpkin in the oven
languishing gracefully

your generosity in death
a carnival ride of fascination
like a broken bird
to tormented to hold
your preference  
hors d’oeuvres of rat poison
and verse
for the thin air road

a smudged face poets last word
in crumbs of burnt onions and charred meat 

your so pretty in penny loafers
bare legs dangling
In this homeless corridor sunken in your blackened
idol of release
and that stupid stare
your weight no longer measured in grief
i was born to late
to die with you
to save a pretty nymph in a downward spiral
precious fertilizer of poetry fields
i'm fixated on your suicide pose
but you're too busy being dead
to give a ****,
my sweet eyed snob of smiling hooks
i'm obsessively obsessive
for what could never be
and is
am i not your fan,
your creep?
if i pulled you from the oven
and rattled life
no doubt, you'd be all **** and vinegar 
i'd be your despicable hero
a vampire
like a straight jacket of love you hate

your dead now poet of twilight
and i'm left here reading your poems
telling you softly
they are the best poems ever
and making believe
you love me
Epilogue: Ann Rice

"The longer they're dead
the deader they get"
 Jun 2017
Valsa George
When Death resolutely comes
Abrupt with his deadly summons

Tarry not like a galley slave
But like a courteous warrior behave

Do not waver and do not droop
As if you are to be hung on a loop

Never dread lying under the dust
With the body in a narrow vault ******

Know, it is only when seeds rot
That fresh and florid lives sprout

So when it is time to go
Strut like an indomitable foe,

With swinging hands and head held high
To be welcomed by angels of the sky

With the music of clanging cymbals
And the rising rhythm of sounding bells

Into a kingdom, bright and cheerful
And a state far radiant and blissful

Where the sun shall never set
Where blessed souls will joyously meet

Where Truth and Beauty preside
Where peace and bliss abide

Ousted out of terrestrial space
You’re enfolded in God’s sweet embrace
This is only a whimsical thought! I wonder if ever I would be able to embrace death in a nonchalant way as described here!
 May 2017
K G
The basin drains her polluted blood as wine envelopes morose
Every minute is a memory, onset of her blanketed comatose
Vying in a fog of icons and myths, words always fail them
From every misread evil that is disposed of improperly
From every neighbor or friend eternally mute again
From every gilded pattern that leaves a cuff for the eyes
From every fetching barroom, where all such nadir lies
KG
 Apr 2017
zebra
a knuckled skull
with no where to go
made of mud and blood
took a needle to sew

made her
during a blood moon
her parts for pleasure
some one to spoon

did it in shadows
so angels couldn't see
fashioned detritus
scraped a dead tree

gave her toes
and a small chin
played a samba
and shaped her thin

after I wove her
from spiritous mist
she called me god
i did insist

i wanted her ****
incantations and ****
made to do the who-la
resurrection did come

in barbarous tongue
enshrined truth on her head
she animated
and got out of bed

who am I
she begged to see

my lover always
i said with glee

what is love
she did inquire

its feelings of warmth
that do inspire

where are they, where is it
is it in this room
i have nothing in me
where does it loom

i pulled down my pants
she looked up with shock
oh my god she cried
what a beautiful ****

she came at me
unbridled and mad
grabbed me and broke me
and called me dad

she starved for a stuffing
and ****** like a pig
huffing and puffing
my **** got so big

we lived together
till I dropped dead
she lives forever
still waiting in bed
In Jewish folklore, a golem is an animated anthropomorphic being that is magically created entirely from inanimate matter (specifically clay or mud).
 Apr 2017
zebra
she became sexually excited
by the thought of being eaten
like a piece of spit roasted chicken
slow cooked
fall off the bone
melt in your mouth
**** food

as she reflected back
she could not remember a time
when she did not harbor
this venomous ache
wanting wanting wanting
what she should not want

she obsessed
some times she dare cut herself
admiring the split tissue
first thin white peaks
the emergent sticky red plush
then the little red river Nile
just a taste
better not eat to much
teeheehee

one summer evening
sitting alone
in a crowded pub
sharing a table with a strange couple
not from around here.
definitely not
may be from outer space

girl became fixated on
their presence

their intensity pierced
like a needle through a banana

both of them lean & tall
almost architectural
like black rod iron gates en-castleations
hair combed straight back jet black
like licorice

the woman wore a tight small bun
immaculate
ornate rings with enshrined family crest
manicured like Malibu real estate
both dressed to ****

girl was drawn to them
they emitted a sense of terror
thrilling her, making her sweat
they looked good enough to eat her

she felt her **** dampen
as they all peered at each other
the man, the woman
siting before her
like Medusa's
with shape shift mouths
and eyes that kiss your soul
till it bleeds
making girl feel like lamb chops
with a side of pom fritz
perhaps a glass of merlot

the woman mused at her
with eyes like black Cole
touched her hand and said
so veautiful

girl found herself in a plain house dress
******-less, bare foot
her toes had been lovingly painted
black with with rich clear lacquer
with no memory of her arrival

woman saunters in
buoyant like a pink float
******* clad

her countenance
like white seamless marble
her eye socket darkened
like pouting dark rose ****
walked to girl
kiss her mouth
then again and again
each time longer deeper sweeter
like a swarm of licking bees
i am yellow daffodils girl thought

man enters like grand swinging doors
to a great cathedral
licks kisses girls mouth
so tender
he tasted of dark butter ***
a hint of worm perhaps
touching her *******
her ******* growing attentive
**** wet wet wet
like low hanging summer fruit

man says we are not human
we are

dragool
undead
loogaroo
dampir
soucoyant


may we please eat you my love
we like for food and the darkest ***
we treasure every morsel
your blood gives us strength
your viscera a prized dark stew
your death brings us optimism
your sacrifice sustains us
we eat you with tears of blood
because we love you
and your body is our holy sacrament
you are our Christ

girl says
you are my destiny
my beloveds
come show me your love
feast on me
take me slow with kisses, black mamba tongue and razor teeth
i do not run from you my darlings

girl disrobed
centered herself on the table
spreads her self wide
like a contortionist
knees held to her chest
toes pointed
feet arched

the man and the woman
on all 4s
hovered like hyenas
first with kisses
womans *** curved like a pearl
her ******* longish as if
stretched silk
with foreboding dark plum aureoles

the mans ****
arterial contoured like a tear drop
a creeping snake with dark appetites
a dispenser of paralytic toxin and MDA
a **** thats poisons and exults
some where between love and death

each of them beautiful
girl thought ooooooowwww

there where long periods of kissing at first
then wet tongues insinuating themselves
in dark rose ****
pink primrose *****
mouths feeding mouths feeding mouths
foot adorations and then teeth and little bites
and mumblings about the grace of Satan
and uncrossing themselves
and thunderous goetic rituals
for fear that god would take their girl away
their lovely food
there sweet bleeding lover
their robe of blood
and starve them
they wept tears of gratitude
as they licked and tore flesh

the pain of their bites excited girl
oh it hurt so
braking her soul
as they ate her sweetbreads

girl
pushed passed limits
pushed past limitlessness
despicable delirious delicious
her **** inflamed

girl thought in fractured clouds
and heaping *******
before fading in to dark water labyrinths


finally she thought
i am lamb chops
with aside of pom fritz
perhaps a glass of merlot

but most of all i am girl
feeding those i love

her very last words
come my darklings
finish me now
clean your plates
drink your wine
and remember

eat up
there are children starving in Africa
 Apr 2017
Lora Lee
Heartbeats fast
whispers and plans
a mother's heart conflicted
as she wrings her hands
through the courage,
streaming tears
        she will let him go
despite her fears
Outside, canines barking harsh
men's cruel shouts
she must say her goodbyes
as the shots ring out
So many kisses
on his sweet, sleepy face
         little man deep in slumber,
in angelic grace
yes, he cried for a minute
as the morphine kicked in
and she rocked him and rocked him
his little frame, so thin
Now as his father takes him
she crumples to the wall
"By the will of God may I see
him again" she whispers
for he is her all
Outside the freeze
puffs breath into clouds
the quiet imperative for
             this next move:
Father gently slips son
into the rough-hewn jute,
No rotten potatoes today, no
this is far more important
No one will look for a tot
in a potato sack, he hopes
He looks around and slips
through the hole in the wire
These moments are critical
the need for speed is dire
A quick trip to the village
           in the black cloak of night
looking over shoulder
Finally the house…it's just there,
the next meadow over
the secret knock is sounded
and the door opened in silence
warm arms greeting, helping
carry the goods inside
Will this be a respite
from all the endless violence?
            Laid gingerly on the bed,
the sack is eased off gently
no potatoes inside
just a small sleeping boy
his parents only pride
Father strokes his hair,
Lays his palms on his head
to bless this bundle of sweetness
in his new environment
"I will come for you, my son"
tucks thin blanket around
and the deed is done
and now, in the cold lonely
smoldering air
of the burning dark
now in the kiss of hopeful protection
yes, now it's time to part

Back to his wife in the ghetto's
cold, sickened  space
to try to convince her
to bust out of that twisted place
You are my warrior, you
and all the others
Your spirit beats on
in my
     naked heart's
            thunder
For my grandfather, badass survivor partisan
who saved my father (and also survived)during the Holocaust by smuggling him out of the ghetto to farmers in a sack of potatoes
My grandmother never made it
Tonight is Holocaust Remembrance Day eve in my part of the world
 Mar 2017
Lina Lotus
If i don't rise in blooming spring
Ring the doorbell of the gone
Cut off every string i have
Please unbind my ghost from earth
Shoot me flowers to the moon
Let me know i lived in you
Let me know i mattered once
***finding my poem on the daily was truly a nice surprise*** Thank you  wonderful poets
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