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 3d izzn
F Elliott

******* ****** demons.. they're everywhere.
And I've known it about this site
for so ******* long.

And the witches..  Jesus Christ--
control freaks,   every one of you.

What..
do you think your creativity 'substantiates'  you?

They're   just   *******   words.
Your creativity comes with an accountability..

but you won't have any part of that..   will you?

If your demons are so ******* powerful,
why do they hide inside of you?
Like a pathetic  excuse of a man, stepfather--

Using..  using..  using.. his wife's beautiful daughter..
over and over and over and over again.

It is no different with these Unholy shitbags also..


("Oh, but don't I gather the most followers with my words?")

It's just empty ******* babble.
In the Realms,  it means nothing.

Absolutely.   *******.   Nothing.

The *******, inhabitor is just an extension of your
empty, ever-controlling..  soul stealing Mother--


   It's an extremely-closed loop, Beavis.
                End of ******* story.



******* ******* demons..
the pathetic ******* are everywhere..



Feast like pagans
never get enough

Sleep like dead men..
Wake up like dead men

And when the sun comes
try not to hate the light

Someday we'll try
to walk upright

https://youtu.be/yjiJM_Daoa0

..the **** over here,
and lets get this unholy *****  out of you.
(it per loca inaquosa, puella pulchra..)

🖕
 May 8 izzn
Zeno
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 May 8 izzn
Zeno
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I don't know what I was looking for,
in the honey draped lights flashing
in my eyes
And the sound of music
that keeps on playing and playing

And the wind that laps over my face
as the world turns,
Like horses running on axis,
weaving through the lines of shadow
and fireworks
And in their trail, I found
stardust that shimmers and shimmers

I found it confusing sometimes
In the endless mirrors and lights
that spirals in my mind
Like vines coiled around poles
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And the looming sweetness that lingers,
like pink foam swirling in my mouth

I smiled towards the dying sunset,
thinking it would last forever
I try not to close my eyes
and not be blinded
by the world slowly slipping
away

Before the music dies
Before the yellow stars burn out
You might not hear my voice
or even remember my name
But I just want you to know that

I was here

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 May 3 izzn
Thomas W Case
I've been to the
bitter, dark place
where dreams are
decorations in
dilapidated houses,
a building haunted by
the ghosts of spring.
I tasted the wine of
****** and convicts
there.

I've prayed with the
broken and wasted.
I spent
days and months,
almost forever with
the feral men and
women of America in
homes not fit for fleas.

Then one cosmic day,
while the wounded slept,
I chased a beautiful
moth that escaped the flame.
And that has made all
the difference.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEeNcBC_mnM
Here's a link to my YouTube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published books, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and Jump to the Madhouse and Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
Just like that, outta the blue
I realize that no matter what I do
There'll never ever be another you
And it hurts like hell...
Btw, how great is Chet Baker??
 Apr 30 izzn
sandra wyllie
infesting my floors
and walls. Eating through
the cherry wood till there's a
hole where my house once

stood. He's a pathogen
invading my body with his,
injecting the poison in a shot
of release like a pent up

sneeze. He's smog, polluting
the air I breathe, blocking
my lungs till I wheeze. He's
a bacterial infection spreading

into my tissue. Knocking down
cells, making my brain swell. He's a
malignant tumor growing every day,
till I putrefy in a pool of his lies.
 Apr 9 izzn
matt r
o holy glow,
                  your pitch
eared knell.
                  the blue ish
halo hooped through lobe.

what do you call these "larger
deaths?" weighted deaths
                    /important deaths?

you ring these
deaths 'hind
eyes & throat

to samaritans &
moonwanderers?

no. so quiet as such like
a second post-homily

& therein lies the body, see;
   the rotting hipocrisy
          of expiration

                    ...

therein lies the flowery
bigot, or death as no
       inferno for
               consequence.
 Apr 9 izzn
Nêijî
Warmth
 Apr 9 izzn
Nêijî
To love and to be loved,
Oh how lucky one is to have both.

A warmth that neither time nor tide
Can wear away or coax to loathe.
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