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Sep 2017 · 312
like a dark cloud
Moonshine Noire Sep 2017
premonitions and

impending gloom hanging high

over our bowed heads
Sep 2017 · 348
Astral Phenomenon
Moonshine Noire Sep 2017
solar-flare pokes out

a quick glare in the ether

plasma uncontrolled
Jul 2017 · 351
Moonshine Noire Jul 2017
evil taints your soul

but blossoms charcoal and red

out-run fairies green
Jul 2017 · 457
We're All Degenerates Here
Moonshine Noire Jul 2017

RETCH, you wretch

societal standards so low

read the book and ***** about it

don't devour the preacher

their laws don't matter here

all you need is your privilege

lock the door on morals

your love is immoral mine is

my God-given right and

don't pry on my twisted perversions

I am under God's grace

waving my banner of exclusion

and giving you hell for your life decisions

if my own show any honesty

then burn me at the cleansing pyre

lest my soul be purified of sin

don't tear away my mask of honour

plastic and lies wrought it for me

for millions of lives I bought it

my ancestors colonized the world

for I am superior and you are a bane

here to serve me then wither away

dare argue, heretic, degenerate

we'll beat, batter and bruise your body

and dispose of you in a fashionable way

or simply send you to rot as a warning

to other delinquents who may resist or

revolt against our holy reign

which life deems poisonous and wrong

but you'll see it's right in the end

when all that's left is soot and rubble

I'll rise a dead, cursed man, but I'll rise in a

coffin world buried to never be retrieved.

above, stars finally splutter in supernova

glad to turn away from the tyranny,

phlegm, and bile that is man
Jun 2017 · 602
Her Arabesque Eyes
Moonshine Noire Jun 2017
amber bourbon-coloured

demonic eyes frigid

grapes hitched

in juniper kisses

lemon moans

nosing out

perpertually queezy

rhinestone stars twinkling up

Virgo whites

xenial years zooming
Jun 2017 · 570
5-7-6 / an unorthodox haiku
Moonshine Noire Jun 2017
dark blue washes over me, blindingly blue paint covers my soul

and wets my irises and penetrates my pores so azure so cyan

my heart is a lump of obsidian rock pumping tar and ashes in indigo veins

chaotic brain so so charcoal with broken pastel scribbles

and Indian ink calligraphy death notes tarnish the white papers and

darkness shrouds my face like a woolly scarf on an asthmatic thermophobe

suppressing and suffocation... I'm suffocating under the weight

It drags me down and I discover the grey that is invincible and

I flail out of control external force metamorphoses to internal anguish

and the floor feels homely or fit for a misanthropic tearful sleep

or do we simply assume to understand each other inconsiderately

when we hide so much from even ourselves for fear of being discovered

and disturbed in our instability and oh that edge looks attractive

but so does the noose so significantly symbolic but I walk a line

and tumble out of acrobatics, circus tent closing in with psychedelic stripes

on my harlequin painted face barely blinking it'll simply never end and

it snakes around a Modigliani throat like a koala to a tree it holds tight

an Aivazovsky moon beams down on turbulent waters gleaming

and rippling with a flirt so alluring so alluring I gasp in awe

My lies are smashing through to appeal to your traumatic design

My truth your utter destruction and faith's demise and it lasts

tethered truly and surely like a giant beast you believe tame

but not enough so because it's impossible to **** all free thought

control is what you want and I laugh in your face like I'm okay

but I just want to dive and float away to some distant land

where ethereal dreams take us to the moon and beyond

freedom no longer an impossible whisper in the dead of night

dare not let the oppressor hear us or see us crack and splinter

spoiled and unsuited for this lifestyle so hollow, plastic and fragile

eternal torture you promised me if I tried but my mortal life alone

fulfills those standards and I'll tear your heirloom ideals apart

with a rage greater than Jupiter's unearthly storms and scream

you won't you won't you won't you won't you won't you won't

I will leave... through the front door or the bordered back window

I will have my freedom and taste the succulent air of day

not in spite or scorn, that's so you, I don't think that way.

I'm not vengeful I think only of the ether

Someday, somehow, today, never but why wait when

there's such an easy solution that doesn't involve

moving majestic mountains and burning down inhabited jungles

why wait when it is simply a matter of indifference

the only way out is directly through, no useless foolery

I welcome the sea, the raging ocean, the blistering desert,

the eternal moon over a defiant forest on a glacial mountain peak

Gazing down, staring with concern and never judging

Because what is there to judge but inevitable so-called sin?
Gymnos = naked/unarmed, Pais= Youth
Jun 2017 · 543
Alienated Speech
Moonshine Noire Jun 2017
concrete lungs and mortar air

so heavy so so harsh

and we're weighed down beneath

the overlapping waves

and your 25kHz tunes lonely

sighs diffracting for miles

your oscillations weren't perpendicular

to the direction of energy transfer

nor were they parallel because

you simply **** at following

you're so horribly anarchist

without even trying

your compressions were so tightly coiled

like the DNA double-helix

but your teeth cut through glass

when your voice failed to shatter

it all over again
Jun 2017 · 361
The Woman As A Girl
Moonshine Noire Jun 2017
You had no idea their claws were retracted

Otherwise you would have already reacted

Sickly green curtains flap slyly against breezes

Unaware the cold penetrating souls freezes

Lego houses built and toy train sets crashed

It seemed so natural until it simply flashed.

Metamorphosing into frail nothingness

The grown-up world like a land of otherness

Little children are meant to be seen not heard

Their conversations became oddly blurred

You didn't understand adults attempting baby talk

You observed your surroundings with eyes like a hawk

Noticing our infidelities, lies and injustice

And we ask why you so blindly trust us

Because you feared for our overflowing plates

And our shoulders stooping down under weights

Waiting for the world to annihilate and save us

Lest further action and responsibility enslave us.

Your repulsed understanding of gender

Made you create your own agenda

Assured you had no future without man

Your anger and disgust right then began

So early on God forsook you,

How his treachery shook you

Second to your brother so flawlessly imperfect

You were prodded to sit straight out of respect

For misogynistic elders you cared little for

Every inch of your being wanted to roar.

Indignation became your default setting

Even now they talk about your wedding

Like you're a prized lamb on display

Temporary until their time came to betray

And trade you under the label of moral obligation

Moral? You saw right through that fictional creation.

False deities they worshipped and offered

Their virgins how you despised the word

Like your value was measured by ****** skin

Starving and traumatised you became so so thin

Teeth barked and knees chattered cold

Your blue lips moaned: I've been sold

And your opinion never ******* mattered

Not even now that your soul is finally shattered.
Dedicated to Nawal El Saadawi
Apr 2017 · 1.2k
Bop Poem: Our Voices Echo
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
A tenebrous chorus of hushed voices in a

disquieted, uneasy murmur and cry

in outrage over the dystopian reality

not oxymoronic but harshly surreal, tangible.

Tides of tears flood out the cruel sneers

And crude jibes of political injustice and unrest.

A revolution is needed before all is lost to the damning of humanity.

Hear you not the dulling whimpers of the

helplessly lost whose sighs turn to the demons

that haunt their ghastly nights under chilled stars,

igniting a fire to roar, hoping this one will work

to reunite a dying species struggling against

evolutionary mishaps and derailings weakening, then

befouling a once-sacred land to the selection

of rabid mongrels growling for hell at limbo's doors.

A revolution is needed before all is lost to the damning of humanity.

Invisible poverty camouflaged in the urban jungles

Once a warrior, now knocked down and it endures

a harsh climate against the disease that rides

its way to the summit, economizing our lifelines

like common resources, disarming our worth.

And we yell so the wind will carry our echoing voices.

*A revolution is needed before all is lost to the damning of humanity.
Apr 2017 · 702
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
She kissed the Sea with amber lips,

Gilded, blinding and dipped in stardust,

Sending shivers and glints across,

His aphotic, crystalline heart.

He thrashed in agony and pleasure,

As She teased from behind a crescent veil,

Concluding rare pulls and Stygian clashes,

While her far-off sisters observed.

He craved for her radiant pull,

She cauterized and seethed at her curse,

Their atramentous damnation forcing,

Two worlds to be torn apart.

The argentous mask of Eros,

Their only true intermediary,

Creating tides, wrath and ecstasy,

For his obscene fury and delight.

Until their time finally came,

When they tried to meet,

In a turbid explosion of star-crossed lovers,

Never meant to be.
Apr 2017 · 877
Infected Instincts
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
I could spend the entirety of my existence searching through the nebulous corners of your subnormal mind.

I could be the ceaseless mist that fogs your colourless eyes when you're lost in your universes.

I could be the drumbeat in your chest like madness before a storm swirling restlessly.

I could be that tenebrous enigma that floods out your words with sighs and frustration.

I could be the annoyance behind your introverted ways. Only I understand that truly!

Please let me be the one to cheer you up.

To sit with you when you're alone.

To glance up through your dark bangs and not be met with your dissatisfaction.

I don't care what you decide.

You'll always be the same.

To me.

I don't care.

I could never be true.

I can never seem sincere to you.

I will never be taken seriously.

I am








My innards twisted.

You're so unknowingly cruel.

So crude.

So wildly, passionately unfair.

You selfish *****.

You ******* *******.

Notice the world looking through your translucent veils.

You're just a spectre on a caliginous stage of masked villains.

Waiting to be swallowed whole

                                                                          Or simply quartered by the finest of the gods.

Crimson blood staining the dusty wood like the butcher's own meat room.

You're a slab of meat.

Someone's tasty morsel.

But with me, you can be someone's God or Queen.

This world is too cruel for one as beautiful as you.

Too tainted.

Too evil.

Too impure for the divine.

**The truly divine.
Two experiments clashing horribly... Nothing to see here...
Apr 2017 · 655
Ode To Oppenheimer
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
As melancholia replaced the jarring of my invention, I sat.

Unable to breathe in the smog I had created, unable to stand on my betraying legs, unable to howl at the heavens over my sordid soul.

In this inferno, I became paroxysmic, my self-hatred, superparamount, numbness dulling the agony of such a devilish act,

An iron curtain fell upon the surrounding world, or at least what I had left of it to be owned by the laconic eclipse.

All the angels fled, disowning my prayers, the lurid world backed away, leaving me forsaken and detached,

I could no longer hear the bombings, hear them fall, my own fabrication, only the dead air that came after, the intense silence.

Cynical and paralyzed, I realized I had purloined a portion of Hell and given it to the unwilling Earth,

Punishing those I had no right to punish, judging those I had no reason to condemn, destroying cities I had never set foot in.

This is how I became Death, the destroyer of Worlds.
I have huge respect for the genius who is Oppenheimer and this is just a poem, not a critique.
Apr 2017 · 1.5k
Ophelia's Doom (Senryu)
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
What is this I feel?

The air betraying my lungs

Replaced by water
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
There's a wavering ocean inside of me

Longing to escape its carnage confines

Crashing against the bony cage dunes

Capsizing the ship in a graceless gale

I am drowned from within, flooded

Gallons of seasalt whipping my wounds

A life of metaphor lost to the tsunami

I gasp for air, unable to scream or escape

How can I tear away from my own flesh?

These waves ebb and dash me asunder

The gulls squawk a concert of mockery

Nipping down to peck at my ****** eyes

I'm plunged under the expanse of water

Engulfed with a paramount phobia

Of drowning and fading in a greying

Self-absorbed, ego-soaked hurricane.

Oh the seabed will rise to embrace me

Against her longing, shell-indented *****

Where I might finally rest in peace

Or perhaps tie me to a scalloped raft

Leaving me to pick the scales from

My permeated crow-black hair

And the crab-meat from between

My crooked, plaque-ridden teeth

The sea does little to offer answers

Instead coughing up useless pearls

And cold, dead scale-painted flesh

The boundless sea prunes my toes

Burns my blue lips and clogs my limbs

It does little to hide my own rotting

Body and suffocating putrescence

The decay of my mind resists charity

Threatening the few flames left

In a soul that was never mine

All that remains of me is the memory

Of the ceaseless tide that was only

Disrupted by the moon-lass' love

A dozen times a year like the rose bouquet

Which you placed by my eternal bed.
Apr 2017 · 984
Some Only Open At Moonlight
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
Our love is

tortured on

the nightly hour,

unheard and


Barely open

for confrontation

or change

we rise with the

sun and

part separate

ways with the day-

break and avoid

peeking curious


Our love is

like the Cas'blanca

Lily: dazzling,

pure and shy,

fragrant and sacred,

sea-bound and drenched

like the Mediterranean,

dizzying Jasmines.

Our love is as

tender as Moon

Flowers and

as courageous as

the moon's purloined

silver glow,

sole witness

to our paganistic


Our love is

like midnight


only opening

in the dead

of whispers

and hushed sighs,

thighs spread

like petals

of the Lily,

lips scarcely


for fear

of the ghasts

that haunt

the wretchedly



Your gentle touch

heals like a Brahma

Kamal, purple and

God-like in

the enchanting

mists of night,

blooming in the chill

and cold, fighting

for survival

without a care

but I'm helpless-

ly self-centred

and protective

and vilely sheltered

like a Pipe Cactus

lashing out

sharp needles

at the prying

eyes, trying

to expose our

suffocating secret

to the damning

of daylight.
Apr 2017 · 873
Grotesques of Summer
Moonshine Noire Apr 2017
we met one strange summer

in a regular tangle of sticky webs

you had the air of angels sweet but I--

drowned with the ****** spirits

in lava oceans fearing your--

foreign static frequency

and grey-green eyes

(I swear they are even if you--

think otherwise): storms

calm ones, calmer than my--

raging coals, empty and dead

you speak of souls like you believe

always an optimist in pessimistic

skin of ivory and titanium mesh

Maybe I should stop while I'm ahead

Nay, I swim with sea-demons

no sweet summer tuned radio

over my sunless desertscape

how does it burn without the sun?

your presence, my sun, is too little

and mine too much, too hollow too-- nihilistic

poles meet but never align

or was it align but never meet?

I think, I really don't know how to think

anymore with more tears of bitter salt

than sea-salt kisses on my cheeks

ice cold but feverous in lies

and inability, that is the word I have

waited for. I am unable, not able, never able

and you are just too open and you--

stand like an open wound getting

infected, diseased by my venom

and I hate every moment of it

but in a twisted way I  enjoy the

bittersweet mutual mutilations

and you don't mind, grotesque heart

diseased, it is a cancerous haven

or so you wouldn't know

and like hailstones in August

we face an unwanted, rare fall

drained and sore, pelting our--

selves with sharply whetted words

and sardonic sniggers of questionable

gods, losing our footing in the

sandy dunes in search of lost

time, breath, life, will, hope

ha! what is hope? a butterfly in a box

of demons, and nothing escapes the dark

untainted, a mockery of politics and greed

stamped with treason and dipped in

myths and force-fed brainwashing

going off after a time for the grand

massacre of faith, humanity,

and still we search, scorched feet

for life but find only fake plastic trees

satirical, ludicrous, and ironic

pick up your axe, start at the roots

don't miss the trunk, never forget:

to end life truly and finally

start at the roots or end there.

— The End —