Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mark Armstrong Mar 2018
Are you listening to the whispers? are you feeling scandalised?
Harbouring ***** little feelings that you wanna sanitise?
Walk through the swinging doors of a catholic franchise
Ask em for that sailors knot a black-n-white man-ties

To the pairs of prying eyes his practical rebuke
Is a marital disguise and a tactical puke
Throw the garter ‘mongst the pigeons, the voluntary victims...
Whose single minds are filled with matrimonial conviction

Paired up poets pool their miseries; the price of art
Each miserable synergy - the sum of its parts
Did he swear that he’d hold you ever dear to his heart?
To love and to cherish til your knees did part?

If she wants you like her father and you want her like your mother
What the hell are you gonna do when you’re bored of one another?

There she stands on ceremony all silk and sinew
While the vow evicted from his Adam’s apple continues
To stutter as the panic builds like stifled farts
Til it splutters its devotions on her lady parts

Her eyes sentence you to sit though your neck-hairs stand
She’s the ****** ****** written in the lines on your palm
Old scores squeeze sideways through her gritted teeth
And he takes on the debt of every promise she believed

Hide the love-bites in a polo-neck, your love life in a Rolodex
When the ***** hand of happen-stance runs its evil down your keks
Cos like the indelible digits on your bathroom mirror
Love is for life until you dress it with liquor

If she wants you like her father and you want her like your mother
What the hell are you gonna do when you’re bored of one another?

We are but experiments, seven billion shades of wrong
The clever ones stay celibate, the others pass it on
That’s an easy line to settle-on in present company
Single-riders in the peloton to pick up the debris
MeanAileen  Mar 2017
Whisper
MeanAileen Mar 2017
Tell me that I'm beautiful,
say it aloud tonight.
Tell me I mean everything,
confess I am always right.

Say that I'm like magic,
treat me just as a queen.
Speak words I long to hear,
let me live in a dream....

Shower me with promises,
drown me in your desire.
Whisper sweet devotions,
tho I'll know you're a liar.

Tell me how much you love me,
say you will never leave...
Feed to me these little fibs
I want so much to believe~
One of my personal favorites...
Lux
Those who were marginalized by the braids and serpentine lights, devotions were made in San Juan allowing electromagnetic discharges from the imperceptible space-time of Vernarth's parapsychological quantum; alluding to clarities that achieved everything by having Patmia in the material and incorporeal from the start of the stained glass windows and archetypes by Transfer Quantum that burned the chins of hominids who believed to be immortal as if they were looking in this position for the direction between the eyebrows and the chin , for the Euclidean incidence crossing all the pools that are between quantum means of transfer of ions and cations. The oscillations of the sparkling field of consciousness of the containers were of ethical variables that became perpendicular to the space of draft or levitation of the designations that originated with accelerated electric charges on Patmos, developing albiceleste skylights over the harmonic equations as they elongated in proportions of quanta that They argued greater than those that circulated elliptically from Grikos to Skalá, and then to Profitis with assiduous progenitors of long-wave quanta. The magnificence of the halo became rectilinear up to the high altar that was atomized from the unskillful penumbra to reabsorb the inclinations of physical life in the Macedonians and the Achaemenides when they were trapped by the loss on the propagation of the Lux, which was imposed in hemicycles where they were they reclined to relax in the lux of rest of the path of the reasoning that made pederasty in the links with the minuscule obtuse lights, reeling from the clothing and its finite speed of what measures the ability to be undetermined in the margins of error of the antagonists when originating flow rates, greater in his dermis to regenerate towards any other that could be clothing of greater speed.

Thus was the scenario of dimensional magnitude between the powers that did not have contact, but their dimensionless energies on a surface that reached absorbent to the one that rectifies the concretive of the error that partially abused them. Their legacies would pass to a supplementary electromagnetic plane, separating their masses and retaking orientation from where they returned, where if the ideal of the final rational was refracted where everything would be vivid darkness. The obstacles classified them in the closure of the average height and the average surface, to then redirect to the maximum height and maximum surface propagating in irregularities of the Ego "Believing that they were never overcome in the diffuse perception of the metal mirror." The incident rays of the Lux would go to meet the multi-incident plane of the Mashiach, the wave angles were refracted throughout the sinuous law as radiosity passed over the greater mass that was normalized from the tangent that was projected 180 meters above the eyebrow. and Vernarth's chin, along with the recharged electromagnetic strengths of Alexander the Great's reactivation bezels, which at times seemed to levitate over the Lux's high frequencies and vary independently with its crowded functionalities, among scattered restraints that it presented to both weightless behind. from the decayed marble sawdust, separating from its phosphorescence that bounced between the rigging of solid surfaces and semi-solid ones, when realizing that the sea and the silica were confessed to the Pronoia of Delphi. Inducing Vernarth for the first time into a Pronoia versology on the Athena of Delphi, prompting them to separate from the world and it's holistic to divide into three portions of the dissociation of consciousness from the end of the Lux of Parapsychology, which had hosted them for centuries and centuries. . The Pronoia conspiracy systematized the reaction that would reunite them after this oracular parapsychology, making the adversaries believe that they were discrepancies of clinical parapsychology, equating warlike causes in the containment of Delphic neuroscience. From this quantification, the predominance of Vernarth's Lux de Pronoia was announced, linking peculiar segmentation of submit logical historicity in this work as a starting thesis, which speculates the same for those who have to make an analysis of historical dogmatic imperialism as a justification for mythological normality. The Lux thesis aimed to show that the dimensions of the mythology and the submitology, when exposed in physical quanta, made a tendency of irresolution in the abode of spiritual Tractatus reasoning and not in the instinctual one, which watches over recitals where history and its collective memory indicate outbursts of moderation. The role of the submithology  is to pretend that this normality is made close to the instruction after yours temporary for causes of your deep patrimonial, that makes them captives from the social complexity, with the disambiguation of certain criteria by maximizing the hidden truth of the ascending opposition forces that they have generated great conflagrations, intuition being the unreflective pseudo-reality with historical formalities that stumble into the terrified directionality of the myth that was to be reality. The tiny spaces of the verve left by the silent mechanics of the Persians became defensive when they saw their emissaries incoherently in the verticality of Allah when they saw that the confusing world with anxiety exaggerated predictions and failures invulnerability of a lineage that always had. been condemned to the desert.

Everything conspired with a Pronoia of siege, before the exegesis that sought purification and that was how they headed and misdirected their mistakes in the active train of the recess of their abstracted retreat, in a universe that also abandoned them after the subsequent train of Aurion waking them in their illusions with swords, and stealthy spears in dreams that specified safe rest. The ferocities of the proto-souls of assault carried away the translucent bodies of the Persians, and the Hellenes in acts of honor made such congenital paths of the understandable vocabulary that he did not speak. The prism was located in the cautious measure of its contractile dispersion with white separations of mantles, earth, and water scalded by dynamics that formed colorful activations with their withdrawal phenomena in the immaculate albino Lux that dissolved all of the facet optics that it made. Lux's great brain in the instant that the Thuellai airs transfigured the nuances of the Atros monastery, with objects that refused to be absorbed by the black hue, generating mechanical waves of equivalence in their identical interference that caused two opposing forces to distill the coherent differential that had to be overexposed in the category of historical Submitology. The two inverted waves separated, the Hellenes moaned and hiccupped for having to become identical when separating from their immaterial bodies, doing wonders that would house additional souls that would complement a transitory becoming towards the garden of the angels that provided them with identical beams of light, interfering in what animated the lights of pageantry, with the antithesis of interference where they resided in constancy knowing that they felt possessed of benefits of the eternal length of existence, but with pressures of mutable in some involuntary constancy and amplitude of having parallel directions with Saint John the Apostle and the Siblis. The phenomenon of polarization of both empires was denatured in a transverse way in all the electric fields after this feat, inciting unique fields of the pure and selective ascending ecosystem, which generated polaroid substances at the angle of ninety degrees above the browbones and chin of Vernarth, to approach the Pronoia of concatenation with Alexander the Great refracting unscathed hyper-vital and transcendent faces of infinity. Like any other phenomenon, the Lux crossed both bodies like two Xiphos swords that processed the electromagnetic valve, by iridium that converted with all the coarse Lux that crossed the succumbed immateriality and stopped the shaft and the nail that hang in the typology of electromagnetic radiation from the Hellenic world between them, making an ominous redemptive fire that was regimented to leave them both in the middle of a farm where there were farmyard animals, stockpiled pastures and a house that absorbed them as parents who would love them as beings of Lux. Thus, this primary parapsychological quantum network penetrated the level of the archangels that made them be together in planes of manumission, and that does not admit bi-quantum personality or bi-parapsychology that can cancel out the portent of the helmets and the lineage that does not dazzle if they are not made of iron.

The life of the other world began to be encompassed in all the Subtraigus beings that would correspond to the astral plane that was confirmed after the Kalidona Romantics deduced the Unicorn Uilef or Uilef Monókeros after Pronoia. Kalidona being an uninhabited island and the Uilef sleeps in between copulating with Spinalonga and Kolokythas along with other smaller islets, plus two hundred that will make up six islands of the twenty-six tetragram of Alef. Here Drestnia went with her consort of Etréstles from the Koumeterium of Messolonghi to find fateful encounters of Pantheism based on the majestic copulation of beauty, among twenty-six numbers that prevailed in virtuosos who took refuge in Kalydon or Kalidona, preparing for their rampage with grafted grotesque derived bodies of the Falangist Hellenes who were arranged of their musculature, so that they directed the finesse of the civility of Hesiod, Terpando, Archiloco, Baquílides, tragic like Etréstles, Aeschylus Sophocles, Euripides and comedian like Aristophanes.
Lux
My Prayer for Thee
Oh, Lord, Thou art my only Love
Thou art my True Love Dove
i treasure me in Thy Vector
and feel me blessed in my daily concerns
i know this is only hellish Earth
temporarily and no eternal worth

only Thy Signs and Thy Spoken Words
i have absorbed and am absorbing still,
Thy Holy Words and Thy Only Will
naturally, i have learned eversince;
i learned to see Thee as my Holy Prince
to listen to Thee as my Holy Father
to hear Thy Words than rather
turn my sight to satan's rites.

Thou art The Only One i worship
Thou art The Only One i am praying to
Thou art The Only One, Thou art my All
Thou art this side and
Thou art my whole side of my All;
Thou stand above my Darling,
Thou stand above my Beloved,
Thou stand above my Beloved Ones,
Thou stand above my Alls.

Thou art The Holy Father,
The Holy Son,
and The Holy Ghost.
i am a humble girl,
i asked for three special sons;
Thou gave me three special sons.
i knocked and asked for love, life and food;
Thou opened,
and gave me love, life and food
for my family, my Life's destiny;
i asked still, Thou gave me constantly.

i could not fight,
Thou gave me strength, Thou gave me Power;
i grow stronger by the hour.

Thy words are Divine;
i am craving for Thee, Oh, Holy Mine;
i am all Thine and Thou art Mine.

Forgive this humble heart of me,
for every sin i have done unto Thee.

i pray to Thee for every soul i've met;
i thank Thee for Thy mercy i get,
from Thy Holy and Forgiving Heart.

i nestle in Thy thermal,
i warm me in Thy vernal,
i warm me in Thy embrace.
No my Lord, i would not race.

i feel me ablaze, every time i praise Thee,
and pray to Thee, my Lord,
blessing feel i get for each of Thy Word.

My Lord, My eternal Love-Superiour,
Thou art my heavenly Father.
i am your constant love-warrior;
Thou art in Heaven,
hallowed be Thy Name,
Thy Kingdom come
on earth as it is in Heaven.
Amen.



© Sylvia Frances Chan
On HP Friday Morn too, accidentally @ 7.25 hrs a.m. The 18th December 2015
On PF AD.30 May 2014 ~and on HP July
2014~~@5.32 hrs.a.m.~
~~ Friday Morn
Yenson Aug 2018
How can my eyes hunger for tormentors bodies
where in my soul can I find desires for sadists
Eves threw on fitted coats of Marquis de Sade
borrowed his manuals and added even more pages
pierced the heart of a Dove defending his nest with lethal pins
And in joyous indignities with devilment aplomp
they reclined and crackled in wanton doltishness
He thinks of and desires us and wants to make amor with us

How can a heart marinated in love truely sincere
a soul ready to die rather than any harm to Eves
Be mother or sister or perchance even a stranger
alas in utter ******* and grotesque situation dire
Come undone with healthy pristine heart ripped to pieces
hung drawn and quartered and sliced in tiny morsels
Like fish baits for mice and minnows or hens clucking
All at the hands of Sirens who worshipped in Satan's cravens

How can a soul with only the spark of Salvation aglow
where it once housed his heart and enduring humanity
With brimful joy and devotions in fitting measures true
as all Eves where to him nowt but sisters and earth angels
Now his burning blood runs cold like rivelets in the Arctic
their words ring hollow and smiles shows rapiers of snakes
Nothing stirs desires for all Eves now seem and look like wicked corpses
Delilahs' wrecking vengeance on Samsons in wickedness supreme


Copyright@LaurenceA23Aug2018.All rights reserved
( Oh..please give over and go ply your delusions somewhere else, says I )
My Prayer for Thee
Oh, Lord Thou art my only Love
dearest, Thou art my True Love Dove
i treasure me in Thy Vector
and feel me blessed in my daily concerns
i know this is only hellish Earth
temporarily and no eternal worth

only Thy Signs and Thy Spoken Words
i have absorbed and am absorbing still
Thy Holy Words and Thy Only Will
naturally, i have learned eversince
i learned to see Thee as my Holy Prince
to listen to Thee as my Holy Father
to hear Thy Words than rather
turn my sight to satan's rites

Thou art The Only One i worship
Thou art The Only One i am praying to
Thou art The Only One, Thou art my All
Thou art this side and the reverse side of my All
Thou art my whole side of my All
Thou stand above my Darling
Thou stand above my Beloved
Thou stand above my Beloved Ones
Thou stand above my Alls

Thou art The Holy Father
The Holy Son
and The Holy Ghost
i am a humble woman
i asked for three special sons
Thou gave me three special sons
i knocked and asked for love, life and food,
Thou opened
and gave me love, life and food
for my family, my Life's destiny
i asked still, Thou gave me constantly

i could not fight
Thou gave me strength, Thou gave me Power
i grow stronger by the hour

Thy words are Divine
i am craving for Thee, Oh Holy Mine
i am all Thine and Thou art Mine

forgive this humble heart of me
for every sin i have done to Thee

i pray to Thee for every soul i met
i thank Thee for Thy mercy i get
from Thy Holy and Forgiving Heart

i nestle in Thy thermal
i warm me in Thy vernal
i warm me in Thy embrace
No my Lord, i would not race

i feel me ablaze, every time i praise Thee
and pray to Thee, my Lord
blessed feel i get for each of Thy Word

My Lord, My eternal Love-Superiour
Thou art my heavenly Father
i am your constant love-warrior
Thou art in Heaven
hallowed be Thy Name
Thy Kingdom come
on earth as it is in Heaven
Amen

PS. Especially posted for dear Tahirih


© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Tuesday 8th July 2014
Was posted on PF and now on HP,
especially for dear Tahirih as she asked for.
Thank you so much for your loving attention for
my Lord Jesus, dear Tahirih
#20
Lawrence Hall Jan 2017
Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering Electrical Rosary

This ilke Monk leet olde thynges pace,
And heeld after the newe world the space.


Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales

How out of date are simple wooden beads
An upgrade is what the Rosary needs!

Something to give your meditations spice
Connected to your electronic device

Beamed back and forth to The Cloud, you see
With mega-mega gigs of memory

Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering
Electrical Rosary is just the thing!

The Ave Maria is so out of date
It’s Ave ME now, ‘cause we’re all so great!

Make your prayers less about God, more about you
Signal yourself through sacred Tooth of Blue

A camera hidden in the crucifix
Enables you to take your selfie-flicks

The Pater beads count each joggery mile
Or kilometres if those are your style

The Ave beads are recycled with care
To save the forests, the rivers, and air


Designed in Germany, made in China
High-definition beads; there’s nothing finer

Buy the first (as advertised on tv)
And we’ll send you a second all for free

Remember: for weddings, funerals, and daily devotions
Let RAM and ROM go through all the motions

Doctor Ponsonby’s Patented Empowering
Electrical Rosary – O make it sing!
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2015
Day taps away—
In the numbering rains.
All the fleet years, enveloped,
How many questions were founded,
What was granted by our solo vacations?
We have trussed, only films, yellowed and bent
****** into an makeshift, unready, empty album,
Dreams made right, journaled without strewn hands,
Lips rung dry from want of heat, touch and caress,
We kept our pride, penultimate, throughout
All the days, longing, dying, we slept
Together, in a broken bed of dreams
And thought, when will this play
Be glad?  When will that isle
Appear?  Will it ever show
Among the dark oceans
Rise— to ferry us away
Before the drunk sun
Sinks in the sea?
When grandma laid me down to sleep
she prayed the Lord my soul to keep
and if I died before I woke
she prayed my soul the Lord would yoke

Post-psychedelic black door dreams
monsters climbing in the breeze
Running, falling, flying, stare
yet with the morning not a care
the wafting flow through morning light
Madame’s kitchen fueled the air

The children sang of fresh insight
With voices pure and futures bright:

We smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages,
We smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages


Slipping, sliding, sowing sin
Sipping cider in the sun
Seeking soaring savoir faire
Serenade non-sequitor

Life’s a joke at seventeen
Painful angst, gray misery
With one look the light pours in
Eyes to see, now born again

Fresh squeezed juice is just divine
Grapes and berries off the vine
over easy, over hard
Weeds have overgrown the yard

And all the brothers in their haze
with lifted voices sang their praise:

We smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages


Mother’s teeth and Mother’s paw
Mother’s cradle, Mother’s bough
Mark the day’s devotions done
in the back track He looks on

The Sun is setting in the East,
and though the Magi know the truth
The Book of Lies, lies in disguise
of jagged tooth with mangy hide

The night recedes, the morning calls
Memories of far gone days
Memories of yawning halls
Memories of random joy

Though the hand that feeds we bite
now sing we all, with all our might:

We smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages,
we smell sausages, we smell sausages
my father and I wrote this together. Turned this one into a song.
MAJD S  Nov 2012
MY WISE BOREDOM:
MAJD S Nov 2012
I'm bored, as bored as someone can be
I'm bored, running circles around my thoughts like a bumble bee
I'm bored, with every breath I take
I'm bored, and boredom is the only thing in people that couldn't be fake
Fake smiles you throw
Yet your fake smiles don't work because you still look like a crow
Fake laughs so high
You think high pitch can make the time fly?
Fake faces you reveal
You eat up on lies like a happy meal…
Fake body you wear every day,
Yet at the end of the time, no one's interested in your body made of clay
Fake gazes, fake stairs
Fake intentions climbing up the stairs
Fake jewelry, fake phone
This is a list of fake I could always go one
Fake hearts, fake emotions
Fake intimacy, fake devotions
Fake marriages, fake divorce
Fake sympathy and fake remorse
Fake empathy, fake duty and chores…
Your lies are fake, which makes them true
But again, your truth is fake too!
Fake thoughts fake you
Fake thoughts fake you
I will go back to being bored, for boredom is the only thing that's right
Fake rights make you go left; fake lefts take you out of sight
Fake lives you lead a head of you, but you can't get your fake boredom that's why I cherish my boredom so much
Fake groups of happy, you're not happy, you're just a fake ignorant bunch
I'll go back to my boredom for it gives me a sense of sanity
And takes me a bit away from your fake ego and vanity
Fake hugs fake care
Fake lungs of fake air
I'll go back to my boredom, for my boredom is unique
And my boredom made me realize how fake you are as we speak…
i believe in a thing called love,

in toxic oxytocin tears and

jagged daggers of emotions

that hit hard and quick and deep

leaving lovers dazed and aroused

on kitchen tiles and sticky dance floors.

i do believe in love, i do,

in blood filled love potions

you put so much of yourself into it

that she just has to love you

she has to, she must,

and she does, she does,

ugly crying but ****,

for you, all for you,

please just hold on

she pleads -

mucus filled tears cascading down her face,

*******,

thighs,

pooling on the floor,

making the doctors both cringe with disgust and

simultaneously lean forward with interest

swaying in non-existent breeze -

and you die with your first kiss in your fist

and a piebald smile that splinters her inside forever

but i guess that isn't your fault, right?

i do believe in love, i do, i do,

in unfettered devotions

in ****-that-guy,

the quality relationship improvement show,

because you want to be a lover

but the guy ain't right

so just make him up

and use a real guy as his outside

you love him sanded, smoothed, buffed, painted

with rims and an inexplicable 48 inch lcd screen

you'll officially get hitched but don't cry

divorce is common and either way it doesn't matter

just look pretty and make sure to squint.

i do believe love, i do

i believe in

poisoning yourself for Juliet

rather than taking her pulse

to taking dear John's heart and

jumping on it happily

because you love him sooooo much

but like, the world has conspired against you,

not with guns and bombs and videotape

but with, like, freely made decisions,

peer pressure and jagermeister  

his blood makes pretty patterns on your

milk white thighs and i guess that

he sticks around for the show

oh boy, i believe in love, i do, that

6 and 9 aren't meant to be together

they just fit, that

there's no place for 'pure' in love cos it's all

pain and *** and spit

as for 'star crossed lovers'

the stars are always crossed

else eclipses would be boring and

each lost lover on a course

i do believe in love, i do,

in the sweetheart who lispes

licking earlobes and bottom lip biting

of metal snakes, happy fates

and piscean traits,

exuding high fructose glucose syrup

instead of saliva

so kiss them carefully or you'll

sugar high and sugar low

and sugar crash and burn

with every cosmic turn and

oh, i believe in love, lovers, oh i do, i do,

in the swirls of black and white that

play ying and yang

that kiss and grate and fornicate

forming a pasty grey

declaring that their grey is the

greyest, greatest, gayest grey

i do believe in love, i do,

bridezilla has destroyed new york in the

quest for the perfect dress as

otherwise her,

sorry,

their,

day will be ruined

milan and paris are shaking in their loius vuittons

praying they will be passed over

oh anna wintour,

just one more working day

please let the cake be next on it's list,

deliver us, oh lagerfeld, from

polyester blend shrouds in hideous off white,

amen.

but yeah,

i do believe in love, i do,

in philosophers that never tire

who'll be debating whether

kpattz, robsten, or my name for it,

sorry, them,

pattenwart,

really love each other

or are merely feeding off the media **** storm

to soothe their fragile bodies

and appease their shiny deities.

so yeah, i know what it involves

every ingredient labelled and shelved

sampled and sicked up and

given 5 star reviews on amazon

with words of advice

and i do believe in love.

i do.

oh, i do

so friends,

hold out your bleeding hearts

apply some anti-skeptic

your wounds will heal in 30 days

give or take a century.
Raffael Delacroix  Nov 2015
Teen
Rock and Roll and Rolling Rockers
Her eyes shine like wet graffiti paint
slow motion emotion
showing dubious devotions
You own nothing right now
cause you can't handle anything
Teenage mouths babble
Teenage minds travel
in fast cars driven carelessly
words fly by
Doge
Doge
Don't collide
With a mouth a spitting out words
they add up
pile up
till they become their own little world
you don't won't to hear that
or even see
yet all the time you are wondering
where is a little world for me

— The End —