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Nicole Starr  Jun 2012
Poison
Nicole Starr Jun 2012
The words of his
is bitter posion going down
down my throat
surgeing pulseing through my body
tearring me apart
so alone so afraid
of this posion going through me
not quit sure what to do
whats to come next
more bitter posion
death death of my innocent soul
torn and tortured by his bitter posion
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
pop culture... yeah... that yawn...
borrowed from the t.v....

   belle delphine... makes a comeback:
                                                       ­    i'm back...

       i must be a real riddle...
                                              though...­

      there i was thinking:
sorry... i was on auto-pilot...
i started to think of...

                harley quinn -
ava max - sweet but a ******...

trouble: i know what a tease
of regret looks like...
i also know what...
a make-shift...
nazgul harem of bulgarian
looks like... too...

        a tease of regret:
a former girlfriend...
striptease of a follow-up
narrative...
very nice... oh oh so nice!

but this one is clearly not beyond:
being a push-over...
belle delphine is no harley quinn:
i.e. ******* seriously sober...
**** your entranced: drunk...
******* sober overtly sober twice...

but... for the bathwater...
and... no...
i am the omega man...
on the list... of... allowed...
men... to *****...
into a genocide tissue
of... banking on genes:
without a ****-up
mother and father sort of
narrative...

         for the drunk:
the sobering whirlwind of reality...
because when rich people
like... should... i... inject...
myself... with some... broown show-gar?!

like i once asked an aesthetician:
i guess in reverse...
i was put under the scalpel and:
the selfless dictum of medicine...
he asked me: what books?
i asked him: quo vadis?

                i thereby managed
to burn the bookmark...
who was sane enough to salvage
the book i was reading?

    clued in on the: beside the brothel
antics...
   this clearly aesthetic girl...
this money making
crazy wheel this buttocks of
supra-roulette...
   when man and death...
the trough... the rhine valley
of trenches and brick-making
tactics for the ***** pederasts
on top...
those cherries those readily...
and thereby... easily...
cusps of iced cream...

                prostitutes speaking...
their gimp and limp-sidekick...
hard-on...       "procrastinations"...
to rhyme to rap...
by the way it looks like:
to rhyme is to rap:
to rap is to rhyme:
  
cookie dough oh oh *******...
and crisp-et... cookie ok: dunking...
slippery and swoon... and sweat...
   boy george fickle...
somehow browning... and none of that...
best dead before:
there was ever a best before date...

and then....
                      MA-GI-C!

playing a game of caesar's thumb:
      versed... in pollice verso?
          how do you play a game of
caesar's thumb?

oh... well... you will require a female maine ****
cat... and some... adamant moth...
the game works... like:
you proving to the beast:
you are not... toying with the moth...
the moth is a lesser creature
to both of you...

how does one play a game of caesar's thumb?
when one only has...
an agitated moth to catch once in a while...
and a maine **** cat:
to give attention to...
with a clenched fist:
with the entombed moth trying
to wriggle its way with
a fluttering of the wings...

   there's also that female
mosquito...
clenched onto by a pinch involving
one of her leg-work limbs...
and being a female...
she pulled and tugged and made
a "dialectic" of the verbs associated
with that limb extension...
a male maine **** cat would
have made a feast of her...
like he would of the cobwebs...

she escaped with 5 legs... to her original 6...
but a month...
i can't disfigure...
too quick for the lassy...
i held the moth in my clenched
fist like a rattle of fluttering
wings teasing...
not enough...
top bored from having
the impossible catch of the night...

the moth always remains: intact...
alive...
either cat catches the moth...
or leaves ones bedroom:
with a blooming gloom
of boredome....

but that's how to keep intact
a "sanity"...
a visit to the brothel...
becomes... a typo-
       for a shop only butchers are only
allowed to... inhabit...
    the sentencing of meat...
the clarity of heaving a life
of a moth in one's clenched fist:
and there's a thirst...
of the fist: to draw that lost samble
of: the begrudged familiarity
of language: and given that...
it's all in 21st century crude / rudimentary...
and rhyme...
            
       no caged beacon of the heavens...
of a lost circumvent...
caged lottery of the rhyme
of being perpetually caged...
       for the loot of **** and cockrel loitering...
like: morn is the cry to whine!

a game of caesar's thumb...
there was once a clenched fist: and a thirst for
blood...
now... a maine **** she, cat...
and a moth... fluttering...
like... an agitated petal-wing-and-rose...
too many "bored"
marihuana junkies stalking these
english streets come twilight...
one almost bumped into...

agitated by my poker facing
the already agitating grey-ish...
by the number...
by the number:
                   what-what of...
if he be not the king george:
having to give up h'america...
then he's no helen mirren...

          a game of caesar's thumb:
any and if all be owned:
that antithesis of a game of chess...
a game of both
kings and paupers...
3D dynamic: and madmen!

"revision": belle delphine...
cold... hearted... capitalist at... brain-sizzle...
but... gravitating toward
two outlets of fiction....
   belle delphine ≠ harley quinn...
a little ******... oh so hot...
hot tender me oh my ***:
posion the daisy...
poison rose should... a rose be all
the more... already... poisoned...

a visit to the brothel:
a visit to the butcher shop:
for the cho- chop and chopping assurances...
the crooked crown on an already
crooked head...
the statue of charles II
in soho sq....
        
              i most certainly paid for much
less than this ****-tenure-of-a-tease....
but then... to have an argument...
you'd need to mingle with a bunch
of thieves... murdering slob-gatherers
of phlegm...

            poisoned red-bunch of
a wholly rosed-up affairs of loiter...
and time: such a prized dead-end of
eventuality...

            the father the god:
the sacrificial lamb...
because... god forbid she was
ever to somehow burden
a deity with a: one first...
once and a daughter...

                  ****** fun-fair for
the riddled ghosts...
       blank shot shrapnel...
                     better suited...
midnight blue of the alias black...
then at least:
best... towing two gaylords
with everyone's bet on
typo and a bullseye!

   but never... the sensibly...
      hetrosexual normative...
goody twice-tied...
shoe-and-shine:
pwetty: that girl and:
you best forget to whine!
that girl and you'd wish...
            her father was a shtalin....
because...
crude and rude...
and all that's ****...
before Lucifer peeks with
a... siamese cranium...
              
      death to all...
who have made it concise...
in making life:
hardly... a... pardon....

  yes... best equipped it making it:
magic! and all the more difficult...
but never difficult enough...
difficult enough...
when... somehow... never... citing...
an... albert fish...
needle in my pelvis...
to... exfoliate... with any...
and more... addition of...
pain as an... ******...

      i guess the plead of the shawshank
sisters drops...
it always drops...
when there's a "conflation"
of evidence...
surrounding... the lower-base...
extremity: the crab genus...
       crustaceans....
    child- this-and-that...
       ****-fiddler...
             but a cannibal to boot?!
you... talk...
or simply... electrocute said:
individual...
since... your... ******* 'ed...
is already fried by the magic
of norm-frequence...
and the already: herd... estasblished...
Norman?
you with me...
sptunik jimmy...
               you with me... cream-soda joe?
you with me...
finding aliens already bigger
than flies... the widow mantis...
blessed joseph josephine?!
*******-numb-wit?!

oh yes! all conession: avowed
to you!
               because...
who isn't...
      in russia... they vowed
to keep these cain canine brood phlegm
of an *******: freely to roam...
siberia... that was the promise...

when they would **** a birth-firvolity
of a: devil and the "by chance"...
when converting man to
the stature of elevating wolf or bear...
and all the better...
rather than... caging the odd-ball
parody of... lacklustre joke and...
moth-ball-rolling...
****-wits the: future!
supposed! narrative!
******'-h'america...
              celebrated feature of culture
most involving... a horror...
      and... bull-wrapping!
               a ******* for a skinning!
Ariel Taverner May 2014
I have cages below me
I float above them
My antigravitational force being my belief that I am superior
U take my blade and look at the captives in my cages
It seems to be close to feeding time
They are
Afterall
Throwing themselves agaisnt my cages
So I take out my blade
Letting them feed on the drops of blood pouring down my arm
They are sated

Lityle so they know
Ther is POSION IN MY BLOOD

HA
HA
ha
ha
Ariel Taverner May 2014
I love?
Your          POSION
dear one
Because
It numbs mine?!
AD Sifford  Aug 2014
Posion-seed
AD Sifford Aug 2014
Doubt is the most poisonous of all seeds
It has the power to destroy everything you have ever known
And I am in the midst of it

God, please help me
Lead me to the doors of your salvation--
Up the steps of your mercy,
Into the Abode of your love,
That I might abide there within it

Call me by the name of your Child
and let that title never be revoked
Never again
If it ever was, or ever has been

Let me live securely in you forever
All the days of my life
Forever, then forever more

Wrapped by your presence,
Held by your grace,
And standing on the truth of your Word,
The Lamb,
Jesus, and in his Name Alone,
Yours, God,
I pray Amen, Amen, and Amen

All power, and glory,
and honor, and praise,
Forever and ever,
Then forever more
To my Savior, my King, and my God
|Written & posted August 26th, 2014|

Normally I go in order of date written, but this little bonus poem is one I posted on the day I wrote it. The usual chronological order picks up again right after this one.


© 2017 A.D. Sifford.
I'm okay with you sharing my poems, but I ask that you show courtesy. Please be honest about the authorship by attributing it to my name. Thank you,
- Sifford
Stevie Nov 2020
When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
And a voice that came thundering,
All the poison, that you all tasted,
And all the one left, now unwashed,
hearing nothing but silence,
becoming the one's who suffered,
when all the believers, died,
and the non believers, survived,
the destruction of the planet,
hatred heated by a human cannon.

Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.

When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
Adam and Eve was created,
To love and be Mother Earth,
Father Dearest,
Forbidden Fruit that sent you,
to Hell,
Oh Adam, You're the Devil, Lucifer,
Adam, Did you heard the snake voice,
Why did you follow the advice,
To pick and eat,
Do you live in all of us,
Do we eat, to become Deceit.

Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.

When the Earth was spinning,
All vacant and wasted,
Everything is our posion,
Welcome Poseidon beside us,
Say Hello Pontius,
God in our heads,
Run to the Waves of that the tide tends,
In foul disposition trends,
As we welcome all our catasthrophes,
All the hate, all the lies,
All our devine that we hide in Denial,
Suicidal Kings and Queens, Here our Heresy,

Maybe Religion is a win,
Maybe it just a way of sin,
All I know it just a linchpin of support,
Belief and stability,
Belief and hatred,
Maybe Communities in it to win it,
to scream and fight and hit back,
False Flag, Attack that,
Found Guilty through entrapment,
Of our commandments,
You're cooperation is commended,
Since the corporation demands it.

Now who will pray for Babylon,
When humanity acts upon,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
When Humanity is the Evil Spawn,
Now who will pray for Babylon,
Amon of the breath and Air,
Amon, where is Thebes,
Now, Who will sing for Babylon,
Humanity, Governments, Religion,
Black, LGBTQ Communities,
Planting the Evil Seeds.
I would remember half dunk, half remorseful
that you would hold my hand a certain way
it would stain my heart
that knack you had for holding me so far from you
and then i would have died just for that
touch like a man seeking glory

I would regret in those twilight hours the
times i told you how beautiful you looked
with your ugly heart
and faceless brow and forced smile
and the knack you had for me to willingly
unwind myself
for you to ravel back to-get-her

I would like to think my lips made an
indelible print on your forehead
and tore through your broken mind
thoughts borne and torn through deadly
actions you learnt from other
soldiers
demented from the ache of the heart

I would pray to sleep alone without
the imprint of you echoing around the house
your words like compliments
spat at me like posion darts of deceit
which lay at my door
for it was my fault
you couldn't let it all go

I would take back my sorry's
and my fighters stance
my bulletproof face
that stood in front of your glass house
and watched your life implodel
and i scraped my fingers through the wreckage
in the hope you weren't hurt

I would
I could
I should
I had
I did
I came
I left
I remember
Korey Miller Jul 2016
they call me the mourning dove.
hallowed be my refrain.
i sing with a bleeding tongue-
beauty stems from my pain.*

you're slivered inside and derided on sight.
your abhorrent habits have cast fans aside-
your knack for dramatics belittles the tragic.
it isn't romantic. get over your strife.

they call me the mourning dove.
hallowed be my refrain.
i sing with a bleeding tongue-
beauty stems from my pain.


not all life is suffering- you're twisting it in your head.
psychosomatic pain's no reason to act dead.
you're wasting your youth with these childish blues.
self-pity is useless, contagious. get out of bed.

they call me the mourning dove.
hallowed be my refrain.
i sing for my poisoned loves-
my voices guides them to their graves.


stop worr'ying the wound and it'll event'lly heal.
quit floating towards koreyland- identify what is real.
if you wanna get better you gotta be brave.
face the pain and the rain or stay caught up in tears and weals.
conversation with my demons.
sycokitten Nov 2011
I've become poison and my drug quit working
the monsters in the dark, at the edges they're lurking
Need an new silver letter to get hooked on,
Stronger than Z, that brings the light of dawn
But those ****** monsters never go away
they still haunt me in the bright of day
Play with my thoughts, talk in my head.
You'll never let go, not even if dead.
So I've taken to the smoke and the stars
to make the thoughts stop, and numb all the scars
Lost away in my land so low
what will become of all this i don't even know.
You.
you've poisoned me.
something
inside
is wrapping
itself
around
my
heart.
It's in
my
veins
and i
can feel
you
to
the ends
of my
fingertips.
It's in me.
You
are
in
me.
Awesome Annie Mar 2021
I took you out of notebooks, so that my heart could heal. Had to stomach the reality, that you were never real. 

Pens once lost on pages, now crinckled on the table. Happily ever after, just a twisted fable. 

Erasing you from my soul, burned history marked with pen. So that I may forget my past, and attempt to begin again. 

I scribbled out old verses, I had yet to complete. Leaving behind our memories, ruin laying at my feet. 

What once was love filled margins, with cursive bent askew. Only to find that with time, my poetry is tainted with the poison of you.

— The End —