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Kat Raven Jan 2019
"Do you have a lighter? Am I dancing **** yet? Are you watching me because I move alone?"
Well, look a little harder, because as glass reflects on me I reflect back revealing the other side of me.
Two-sided.
She dances with ease.
Do you feel the pain because it's pain that I unleash.
I am the inner workings of your mutability.
I switch up as I am never at true peace.
Look at me, watch me...
Feed on me as I feed onto you.
The perplexities of my intentions are at it's core when I move.
Lost, but just a crazy ***** with the master ability to play with your mind baby.
Do you see it?
I do.
And she's nasty.
Taste her, lick her, **** her.
She's the dark side of me and she's waiting to play.
Tear me up like I'm your doll and grasp onto my insides like the strings have been attached so the grip cannot lose itself in your sins of your sinful embellishment.
Dress me up, move me.
You are my puppet and I only want to tease your mind.
**** me like a twist of your mad insanity.
Play with me.
Taste me, and watch me because, I move alone.
Jack Turner Sep 2010
When you cease to talk to me
I feel empty more than you imagine
My life seems to drain away
I sit and wait for you to call
Or drop me some long awaited text message

Then does my heart rejoice
Trying to slow my return text

Oh, she replied in 15 minutes
That means I have to wait at least 45
Eh, I managed 35, let's do it anyways
And thus we continue our beleaguered talk

I want to be near you
To talk in person
But without a prepaid gas card
That will definitely not happen
Though every weekend just might be possible

I will do my best to be around you
But my lips will invariably stray
Wandering away from you is unquestionable
Though how often is up for debate
I will do my best to make it less than once a week

I'm sorry for quitting you so quickly
I must be the biggest freak
That you have ever met
Heavy Hearted Nov 2018
be careful-
you dont want to fall in love with me;
Im hard to hold and cold to touch (fall to pieces/treat the rush).
dont fall in love with me
because Im inherently cruel.
You will put me  above all, as the only priority, yet I will never be enough to show you how that feels.
dont fall in love with me
because I will watch you sacrifice, in every moment you thought you knew I will watch as you suffer for what you love. 
dont fall in love with me
because I will lock the door
from the inside so dont wait around,
dont fall in love with me
because I know my worth and I will demand many things, most of which will be a challenge,
yet I'll expect everything unto us for I know what my love does really offer.

Fall in love with me and
my soul will trace you back, and you'll see
I'm a rainy night, the silent snowfall in a lonely November; that im the space between each eyelash when you grin.  I'm a sunset that hangs over the smoking, foggy lake, and im the tiny hairs that cover a raspberry.
Im a song
and a poem and an epitaph alike
Im the dirt gravel path in the forest you hike.
I'm the wind and the rain
Im the first sip of tea
Im a warning to head,
Im the deep dark blue Sea,
Im whips of hard smoke,
perplexities
Im only what you want me
to be.
x free verse x
Diction  Oct 2018
The Ink Stain
Diction Oct 2018
You can call this nothing but childish poetry if you want/

Because I say this with complete honesty/

Your opinions mean nothing to me/

Looking for the reason behind the why I find in every line of mine/

Without any doubt this empty is me when I'm in my honesty/

There is no lie for you to see when it's all the same thing as what's hidden inside this poetry/

I will say so what if you don't understand these words I write/

I don't care if you can read this pens bite/

Still as oil are these words the paper snow covered drifts white/

The reason my sanity has yet to flee/

Even though everyday I'm looking at this knife as if to find this mercy/

As I'm constantly bordering conformity of this eventual reality/

Lost in my own insanity/

As I'm individually ment to be mentally segregated/

To keep steadily the steady loss of a sane mentality/

As I kept barely shackled separately separate from my misery these memories/

When I deserve every memory intentionally given to me personally/

Specially those made to cause me pain inside intentionally attacking my happiness/

So I'll be honest/

To those the ones who sent them so they can dry the rain with a wipe to clear their eyes/

I apologise/

I'm like Dr.Jekyll holding on desperately to hide the Mr.Hide hidden inside/

With memories of the psychologically unsteady/

Symmetrically simplistic in this coloured poetry thats making up my reality/

Losing myself in some fantasy/

A chemical chemistry of evolutionary perplexities/

Changing the mentalities of the socially closed personalities/

The ones who are misunderstanding me and what's behind this poetry/

When there's so much more then this man and the fact he's lonely/

These poems being what I feel each night/

Why I'm able to continue to write/

Making these words rhyme to fight off these thoughts of some suicide/

Making up poems line after line/

The only thing that makes me feel fine/

It's what keeps me from completely losing my mind during these moments anxiety sneaks up from behind/

So I'm suddenly overwhelmed  emotionally/

It's as if your falling apart and there's no one there that cares/

No one to make it stop but plenty in the part that's pressed to start/

Most days there's nobody to listen when your not sure if your life is worth living/

Sometimes the pain is so deep your needing something to numb every bit of what your feeling/

Now posted on this line paper that's been red dyed/


Maybe the hurt this time someone will see and finally take my words to heart/

Why the ink cord around my throat is still wet/

An the rest of it's spent on this borrowed piece of parchment/

A page from this mental thought process that's afflicted by the emotionally hopeless/

Constantly dancing with manikins of a manic drug addict/

With cut wrist to remind him that weak thoughts need to become nothing but static/

Keeping my mind distracted/

What secrets are you keeping in the attic/

I'm escaping into a straight jacket fearing my own love as the tragic/

When I've finally had it/

My heart I'll bury deep be it lock set with the sunset/

Secret is, the artist is ment to escape within the ink stain that's set/

This is that moment for me be it I'm now word spent so I went while the paint was still wet/
Jon York Sep 2022
Refuse to  think that anyone  else knows
better  than  you what  dreams will keep
your life energy humming with maximum efficiency.

****  out   wishy-washy  wishes   and  
lukewarm    longings   that  keep  you
distracted   from  your  burning desires.

Tell yourself and tell the world  that you
know  exactly what  you  want  and you
know  exactly what you  don't want and
you know exactly what you kind of want
but you won't waste your time on it because
it  sidetracks  you  from working on what
you really want.

Be  willing  to make mistakes  if someone
else is willing to learn from them. To hell
with boring enlightenment; I want brilliant perplexities.

                   Fall out of love with fear.
                                                           ­                                     Jon York   2022
Diane  Jul 2014
Number 642
Diane Jul 2014
not every poem is about beauty
too caught we are in the moment to write about it
that is what makes it beautiful
pain clings long beyond instants
prolongs and window reflections
engulfing our bones
masticating our stomachs
from slow drip bile coffeemakers in our chest
the line from that one song starts the burning
and the eyes of a stranger flavored with reminders
i wish i could tell him i finally got to ____
my blood is chunked with tomato slices
acidic clots and stagnant passions
float me in melancholy perplexities
a minute of oddity where emotions
are unidentifiable
Thomas Bodoh Sep 2018
Mankind
What are you doing
Black and white and gray
You twist and turn and rage and shine
My love, your love, our love
My brokenness, your tatters, she crumbles, he shatters
Closed eyes, open mouths, poisoned words, ***** words
Dates, times, places, people, smiles, faces, masks
Him, her, you, me
Talk about people, talk about people
Use them and wear them, win them and hang them
Elegance, poverty, hurricanes far away, imaginary crucifixions
Look at me, look at my scars, look at my hurt, look at my heart
Words and words and words and tasty, tasty words
Names, names, names, a thousand souls, a thousand stories
Changing, twisting, turning, losing, loving
Emotions, complications, complexities, perplexities
It makes me want to say
Mankind
What are you doing
Wonthelimar, in the last transmigration that he planned from Nyons in the cavern on the eastern side of the Rhone, surrounded himself with mountains that dwarfed them with promiscuous caves of the Eygues. From these buckets as a margin of power and go referring to the nocturnal wind of the Pontias; created his fundamental tool of attraction of the Mementos de Cartography of the Seleucids, decomplexing the logistical notions of the Diadocos after having resuscitated and liberating Alexander the Great from a Cartesian Underworld in the manner of apocryphal late Aristotelianism, mechanizing existential dualisms of Hades with formulas and psychotropic and geometric tricks, licensing them theologies of habeas corpus, coexisting in the first instance with Etréstles de Kalavrita who would establish the term of definitive transmigration of Alexander the Great, so that between the Diadocos and Wonthelimar they would contend the final and disciplinary action to revoke the high arrest, transhuming the sovereign as Macedonian next to the Hexagonal Birthright finally very close to Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth in the vicinity of the Megaron Spilaion Apokalypseos.

The generals of Alexander the Great shared his legitimate Ark without royal titles, they were Perdiccas, Antipater, Craterus, Eumenes de Cardia, and others like the satraps who came to be proclaimed as kings; Antigonus, Ptolemy, and Seleucus. Residing the most substantial in this parapsychological saga in Vernarth; his brother Etrestles de Kalavrita who seconded and predestined his monolithic and constituent sovereignty of Polis, for the purpose of ruling and raising his Kopis and Xifos in the independence of aldehyde and alcoholic carbonyl residues emanated from the ferment of the Backhoi and Nepente, depositing LSD in substantial amounts. to align himself with Seleucus, and materially present himself in the sphere of Patmos as two representatives of both empires, one ancient Christian and the other Panhellenic, placing himself in that totalitarianism of Seleucus over that of Alexander the Great who was splendid in the cosmogony of a king similar to David of Judea, solvent and illustrious in the conception of Apological dynasty and identity, of Zeusian roots and of eternal numeral politics. In the quantitative of the champion of Alexander the Great revived on Patmos, the Mashiach of Gethsemane will continue to be deified with such a signature of both in ****** skies in two absolutist emperors and of dogmatic differential Pythagorean, propagandizing both dynasties with domains in regencies and different latitudes of the conceptual decision. Base, to refute proposals to follow them in part of anti-Alexandrian perplexities or opposed to marginalizing himself from following them after they abandoned him in Babylon. This was sensed in the confrontation between both forces of univocal polarization, for the good of one and the bad of the other of having to distract them from the proposal to enlist and harass dethroned kings on purpose from their deaths and revive them in others than in their own court of observers and bosses, they will only exist in the empty temples and idols without dates to know to avoid and in prevailing dates that will not happen.

Seleucus says: “Khaire my Commander…, unite the divine sanctuaries of Apollo, and take up the harangue of Tel Gomel with us disunited and lost by you. This dating will remain in the offices of reforming Macedonian armies and we will both command our generals in the Panhellenic dynasty, overall the heavenly armies that you will ever have here with fragile oracles confusing your divine blood! "

Wonthelimar, already manifesting from Nyons, lightened his Bucephalus bases, having a great somatic affinity with the bridles of Alexander the Great's steed, unraveling here a great mystery in his parapsychological regression directed from the cavern of Chauvet.

Wonthelimar says: “I have been confined with early Neolithic alloys, here I have dwelt livid among all your intrepid adventures channeling the axons and sketches of manifestations of superior cause and effect of correspondence of the ages and their Aeon and paleo-uncrossing precessions of you and your new death, from the Ardeche river together with Medea and Hypnos, among all of them being aerial, visionaries and northern lights who traveled to my redoubt to spray them in river waters, on the night of Agios San Ioannis. The gorges that swallow the seal of the Pontias, make rivers form with their name since the bulk of their waves of gusts are grandiloquent and robust like a gaseous river that becomes hydrological in larynxes where the wind is astonished when entering the concavity that it is wasted in its nature of time and qualitative content. Unusually I have been the progeny of organisms of rapture and cytological drama, in each one that is represented in these walls in which they are trapped next to me as tricks, and radiocarbon tricks by these vicissitudes, and of their actions that have dated my radiation of radioactive carbon in these caverns and so-called fourteen carbon spaces, for more than fifty million radiometric years. I lived here with my parents until as a child I stayed with my godmother, but one day my father did not return. From that moment on I became after the anticipated axial carbon, to keep myself as a torch in the caverns to see where no one was light but me, only of someone who was more than a dawn to illuminate what they wanted to know in my organic depressions, my trident of dating and carbon, by my parents and I in incisive philanthropy staining all the walls detesting the otherness that made me move towards a Wonthelimar; with dated apparitions and curtains that behind them always like gargoyles appeared before Hypnos, and then Medea, taking me as a child with her hands. When they left, I was left alone and patiently waited for them, when they did not return in the harsh winters they would send me Gerakis Falcons, to deal with your pain my lord Vernarth. In this field, I live, but now I am on my way to grasp the horns of the ibex, which took me to their lair with their goat colonies to give me milk and ursid ***** herbs that shielded me from a lethal genre, although not every day. Remain so. The lord that you will be now is the reflection of the bodyguard along with his ibex that will cordon off your rebirth after leaving the traces and rods of your bone marrow, spleen, and glandular that now belongs to me, to take you to the coldest waters that run inside me since the last ice age. The interference of the Diádocos tried to convince Alexander the Great, this is already a new rock piece to represent him in numismatics, walls, and ceramics in a predominant and complacent way of historical, shamanic record and of astonishing parapsychological fold that I have projected on the walls of Chauvet without your consent "

The new turn from Nyons to Patmos was one of the seizures and ecstatic agonies, for a former little prodigy boy and son of an Íbez and a Bucephalus named Wonthelmar, who comes to rescue the entelechies of someone who was an ignorant man who carried in his arms his divine death, without knowing that before she was eternal life waiting for her in the Katapausis, after building the Megaron and negotiating with Seleucus the evolutionary stylistics of the resurrected Alexander the Great in the flames of the candle enlisted in the night lanterns and united with Saint John the Theologian. Seleucus' talks will be one of the stubborn and ****** visits to persuade and catechize his major general, in periods that do not elapse in real-time, and that will be the fatal fate of his obstinacies because Vernarth was already a prodigal son of the Duoverso-Universe., whose basal was unparalleled in attacking their ideals and hegemonic settlements of the material of minimal cause and effect, a wonder of worthy to lean on invisible gods who at a great speed never seen before..., trafficked in front of every gap or shoulder of their destiny, wandering under a pendulum of a sword and under the support of the farmer, who held prey and meat between a lightning bolt and an elder that supports him, cushioning all earthly sufferings, even more coming out from the silence and the most hidden isolation of those who dare to release from the vaporous darkness of Chauvet, Wonthelimar, already forging paths and ups and downs from where no one comes or goes.
Metaphysic • Quamtum • Parapsychology • Regression
Mary-Eliz Apr 2018
through the
Humbling Portal
of these
Hallowed Pages
you'll find

Hesitant Plunges
both by new
and "older"
Honored Poets

using
Harmonious Palettes
to create
Haunting Pictures
sometimes giving a
Heavenward Peek

through
Hypnotic Potpourri
Heady Perfume
even
Happy Poison

while
Hapless Pixies
and
Hopeful Prophets
Hunt Pearls
and
Hold Parades

that result in
Holy Pandemonium

yet
within our reach are
Homegrown Peaches
Hanging Pome
for our
Hungry Prowling

as we read
tales of
Heartless Paramours
Hissing Pit-vipers
who gave
Half Promises

we decipher
Humorous Puzzles
Hardest Perplexities
based on
Hysterical Pretexts
until our eyes see only
Haphazard Pixels
on the screen

and in a
Helpless Panic
we quickly read
the notes
a
Hasty Postlude#
artifice, oh artifice of deception

miraculously ameliorated

by a strategy masquerading as a reality

or a reality masquerading as a strategy

leads to unresolved questions

of the perplexities that tug

at the heart of many truths

laying bear the spontaneous rhythms

of a mind in motion with

an unprecedented intensity

of a struggle to articulate

perceptions of a shattered understanding

of absurdities proclaimed as violations

of moral obligation

for morality is nothing more than opinion

that has a treasonous alliance with itself

giving birth to illegitimate validations of stupidity

— The End —