She is drawn to SATAN like an addict to heroin
She burns her fingertips, edging them into candle wax, mourning in the absence of Lucifer
“Dear valentine “she cries in the stark midnight, she won’t give in this time
She licks her raven shot gun, lining all the bullets in the form of pentagram
All she can hear is ringing in her head, he has made her weak,
Dangly calves, wrists scarred, teeth marks on her neck & heart scattered-
Like the ashes of his past lover’s
Traits of an incubus, seducing naïve women
Toying with their hearts, Masking his destructive tendencies, like a Russian politician
Eyes all pleasant lies, lips uttering praises for the rival’s spoken lines
Rough sex wont her mind, her heart wont subdue to his crimes
She is a fighter, he is a sinner
Smoke edged fingertips, lips turning into a wicked glee, bow down to the madhouse queen
Insanity is a welcomed relief, freedom from his infidelity
Pressing on the lever, pointed directly at his cerebrum
“Venomous mind, you should’ve have never thrown your heart in confines, you would have been alive”
CRACK! Led by a passage of dead silence, later morphed into scavengers screeching and agile flapping of inky wings.
Dark side feels a lot more attractive when your naive,but when you have tasted it,you want to run.
I've been to many bad places
And met even more bad faces
I've gone places no one should go
And I know people no one should know
Yet I do not regret the thing that I have done
Hell most of the time it was all just fun
I'm a stronger person because of all this
I danced through the fire to give the devil a kiss
I'm wise with the knowledge that I now hold
I have seen hell and it is empty and cold
That was not the life I was ment to lead
Those days where life lessons that in the future I will need
God's plan for me we shall soon see
I thank him for my lessons and the person they have made me
She lies in her bed alone in the dark
Physically and mentally
Her warm body under the blankets wishing he was here
She misses his warm kiss
The way he looked at her and made everything better
Now he's 1,039 miles away
He's just a dream
Everything is just a dream
Except one thing the rain
The rain is how she feels
The rain is her tears
She just can't wait to get that first kiss again
It will feel like the first time again
The first kiss
The first touch
The first time she jumped into his arms
It will all happen again
She can't wait to hear baby i'm home after those long 5 months of him being gone
She will wait for him
People doubt her but she will prove them wrong
She's in love is that so hard to believe
Central park Nevuary. 3rd.
There's a noise like I never heard.
Humming and grunting.
Guess Ill go hunting.
trolling they call it.
Candy.apples are bait they tell me .
Lucky I'm stocked up with the caramel kind..
Why? Don't have a clue.
Creeping on my belly to the clearing ahead.
Therel"s a huge checkered table cloth . Checkered I said
Sir. Are there more white squares or more red type squares sir.
Trolls sit cross legged in front of a candy apple pile.
Stuffing their faces a minute a mile.
Trolls are a fiction or that is the tale.
These trolls wash down apples with hot ginger ale
I wish I would stop dreaming this dream.every time
I eat mango ice cream.
even in the midst of my fellows
I am alone-
how I long to know the gentle caress
of your warm hands
how I wish to know the answer to the question:
is every one of my kind as alone as I?
I lay in wait for just a hint of your presence.
This cold and damp room
I have been deposited to
offers no condolences of comfort.
Thankless mortuary of life,
grounding point for unending successions of failure.
Mold grows abundant and varied on every surface,
forever reminding- the self defense I practice
is no match for time.
I have surrendered myself to your will
you repay my penance with stoic indifference,
how I curse my fate, to be stuck in this condition
stuck in this form
stuck in this cycle of irrelevance
where my purpose is as obscured as your presence-
I know it is there- I catch glimmers of it,
wafting on fumes of promise
welling up through my limbs-
yet, as I try to focus on its sweetness, it melts away
and my condition teeters on the realization of the futility of my dreams,
dreams that perhaps there is something in this world I may possess,
something exempt from this foetid destiny of decay.
I pray to you every day- you bestow to me sustenance, delivered
within the few short moments of clarity
when your benevolence washes over my limbs
and that chill is abated, temporarily.
oh love I need you
I need you
I need you
I need you-oh-
I need you now...
The joy you give me wells up in my core-
it spirals through my body in radiant fumes
arousing within me an electricity
which charges and grows, crackling and rippling through my being-
Your weightless touch
caresses the supple flesh of my newly unfurled limbs
your heat makes my lust ignite
until my rapture bursts and floods fragrantly out of my body
through small delicate folds soft as angel’s lips
burning crimson flames in contrast to the relentless leaden landscape.
Much like my prayers,
these too wither and evaporate back into the rimple of your coat of infinite possibility.
I am left broken, exploited by a purpose
that has been kept hidden from me.
Fate has decreed I must blossom during winter
serving as a beacon to the world around me,
I implore you my beloved, who will serve as my beacon?
Who will lend vibrance to my dismal soul
when the skies are gray
and the cold lingers ever-present like a blade to the throat?
oh love I need you
I need you
I need you
I need you-oh-
I need you now...
I continue to endure
these seasons of deception.
The offerings of my flesh, my soul, my intentions
are hung in severe strings
as reminders of the union I may never have
reminders that I will never be as perfect as I know is possible-
that most of my dreams
will miscarry to oblivion and their potentials as realities will slip away as fast as the thoughts that carried them-
slip away as fast as the memory of my existence.
the only thing keeping me from joining you
my form, this body, this anchor to the Earth.
In spite of this forlorn existence, I try to brighten my world-
my offerings are these poems of flesh,
frail and transient
moments of sublimity
apices of material existence
bridges to the divine
Exercises in wishfulness do nothing to change states.
What I truly desire is freedom,
freedom from these roots
freedom from hunger
freedom from wishes
freedom from these interminable winters
freedom from this sadness
freedom from this life
the life before was.
I’ve met you before
as we sat down
i watched worlds align
in your movements
and stars become
you are beautiful
you are beauty
we drank the night
watching time stop
in our swaying movements
she couldn’t hold her liquor
our drunken timelines
our spinning thoughts
and tongues sharing
alongside new bottles
until i was forced
to watch her phase
in and out
that moon bitch
must’ve had more
than she could handle,
because the next day
there was a new face
on her course,
wasting happy hours
shouting sad times
to morose microphones,
if you fail
your anger will
leave you to scream
masking taxation of
tie-ins’ infusion inbreeding,
demonization of sharing similarities
left time socially awkward
and unacceptably indulgent
of the mindless self
tonight i will
join myself in song
it will be a hymn
rhythm saved by him
we’ll circle ‘til its begin
to spirits split,
allowing tastes to
all those stagnant,
stifling with wanting questions
of where beings,
not seeing being
to be relative
don’t you remember
that was me
by the train tracks
hoping to spare the train
and sacrifice my yesteryear
in hopes that your nature
could outlive my past
and as soon as I relate
I am lost on one-way streets
clinging to curbed wishes
whispering claims of we,
pushed with no reason
I should lose self
for the sake of
this intelligible “you”,
this inebriated “you”,
this indecipherable “you”
that can’t understand me
aligned along memory
refusing to understand
the way I lay so somber
beneath this blanketed piece.
keep me cutting
through dark alleys memory
to dream that phasing face
The moon moves
toward a comforted rest,
laying her head
in the open arms of
beginning days commanding
closed-fist conformity, broken
in our failing attempts to inform
the stars continually insisting
on one more so
I retrace steps drawing upon
thoughts we’d shared over
shattered vessels and soaked earth
sprouting first footfalls path
lined in flowers and forbidden fruits’
anonymous aroma cementing forever
these times in memory.
All the years, where have they gone?
All the days where we drove around endlessly in my car.
And our favorite song played on the radio.
And I turned it up because you always wanted it louder.
All the days we were always good friends.
I thought it was that way, the whole time.
I loved the world, and you even more.
All the years, all the hours.
All the days and seconds.
It is believed that someone
enters your life
for a reason, a season,
or a lifetime.
You came into mine
for a reason -
a reason to show me
that life does move on,
even after all of the pain,
has now brought me
to my lowest point.
Your presence lifted my spirit;
it gave me a reason
to believe in myself,
to believe in you,
to believe in us.
You gave me a reason
to smile again;
a reason to hope
that, finally, the void
I was feeling was now filled.
All of this you
brought to me
in such a very short
period of time.
Now that you're gone,
I want to thank you
for the biggest reason of all;
you helped to relight
a fire, from mere ashes,
that had burnt
out some time ago.
For this reason alone,
I will always be grateful.
Vicki A. Zinn
I am smoker, thats what I am.
And it makes me feel good.
When I sit at a bench,
and watch people pass,
With smiles on their faces or scowls as well,
And I love to share a square with someone unknown,
As mine and their story pours out while we both take a drag,
To me that is living and having a good time.
I am a smoker, thats my addiction,
Others hate it, but to me that is love.
Infatuated with nature and its conflictions,
I'll rise really early to watch the sunrise,
The pretty pink colors juxsaposed with purple,
Birds, planes and cars all rushing: rushing somewhere,
Or nowhere at all, I just sit there and wonder,
With tendrils of smoke soaking my clothes,
I do not care to rush, I am a smoker.
Watching in silence trying to witness,
Something worthwhile and great,
While others are worried about being late.
I am smoker, that is my passion,
It might be wrong but it feels so right.
When I go somewhere beautful,
new, old, familiar or strange,
I light up a stick, and blow smoke at the sky,
Blow smoke at those faces, sharing the sight with me.
I will buy a new album and share it with a cigarrette,
While the headphones blast and soothe,
My hand comes to my mouth,
And feeds it its poisons or nutrition.
Call it malicious, but my tenure on this earth,
Wont be so much longer than it is expected.
I am a smoker, that is my sin,
I try to kick it, but it comes back.
Once I did not smoke for six months,
And i felt okay, as I watched others enjoy,
that which I loved and cherished at one point,
But after I abandoned her, my habit that is,
I asked her out once more,
and has not left me since,
She takes care of me when im happy or sad,
When I have been a good boy or bad.
She loves me no matter what,
Even If i did leave her once.
But I will leave her again,
Maybe today or when it has been enough,
But right now I will finish this pack,
And see what comes after.
A hooded figure lying in wait,
winds dance around,
hiding, revealing, twirling in circles,
it's almost time.
Hoarse coughs sound throughout the night.
He is not scared, he will not be harmed.
Time is endless, but time will stop.
This book is ending, another is near.
Him and his friends, they dance,
in return, he gives them life,
one of darkness.
Blinks open his eyes, there is calm.
He greets the other as a true friend.
A life well lived, no regrets.
This new dance, slow and ageless.
shadows retreat once more,
you are safe, for tonight.