Stiff-spined pigs clawing at shins,
thighs, torso; arms and head.
Effervescent atoms spit
from pressurised cans
to clouded, burning eyes.
Batons drop, judging
my ever rolling sins;
breaking bland sheet
of skin into blue, black,
red, swelling  purple canvas:
mounds of flesh,
batted time and time again.
Arm twisted, mud faced being, sinking.
Face first dirt. Cuffed, bony wrists
annoy broken-back shoulders:
unforeseen angles.
Frustrated muscles stretch
bemused tendons.
Freedom demolished,
kicking screams provoke
further chest knocks,
ambushed four to one
your body flops;
sagging over tight-gripped,
blue and black jackets,
helmets, batons, badges.
Tossed to the backseat;
prisoner of the siren.

Do you sometimes feel
that your beauty is fading?
Soft creases around your eyes?

Are you trying to hold on
to what the years are taking
feeling the last of youth as it dies?

There is, however, a certain time
when a woman 'comes into her own'
and has a wisdom within her life

An intuitive inner confidence
unveiling outer calm
a knowing in her sighs

She has an understanding of her image
her soft curves and their affects
fragments of her self consciousness rapidly dies

A sureness to her sensual style
air of authority to her stride
an enlightenment no one can deny

Embrace the creases that tell your story
your beauty will continue to mystify
a choice today that you can decide

The years of youth are never lost
they're carried forever within
our body, is youth, just a little more disguised

There was a land of gray and a sea of red
Painted by the blood that we have shed
If you got called, it is your turn to die
You don’t think but just comply

To do this is your meaning in life
For we must all make the sacrifice
Without a reason or any concerns
They pick whose soul is next to burn

Your stub comes in and you get in line
Following the leader that is most divine
You sit and sleep and await your go
Slowly moving up, in your row

Everybody is distant and nobody speaks
For they have been waiting to die for several weeks
To look around would be to look at death

So you sit and sleep and await the last breath



The end of Part I

Thank your for reading.

I love bubbs with all my heart,
It's been this way from the start.
My love for him will never cease,
Even when I'm covered in grease.
The love I feel will never hide,
even if he'll never make me a bride
I love him so very much,
I want to *** him and such.
I want to pinch his cheeks, for weeks and weeks.
I love him even when he squeaks.
I love bubbs, bubbs, bubbs, rub a dub dubs.
read more great poems at poemjunction.blogspot.com

I woke up before my alarm clock today
Got caught up on my sleep; it's starting off the right way
It's a good day; It's playing like a song

I started my car and turned the radio on
The radio was playing one of my favorite songs
It's a good day; It's playing like a song

Driving to work all the lights are staying green
Allowing me to cruise along and take in the scene
It's a good day; It's playing like a song

Got to work and saw friendly faces
Thank the Lord; I must be in good graces
It's a good day; It's playing like a song

The job had some up and downs
Problems got solved and I'm homeward bound
It's a good day; It's playing like a song

The sky is clear and the stars are out
It was a great day; this is what life's about
It was a good day; it played like a song

Led down from the tower
Head high and hands bound
Blindfold declined against the wall
Black square pinned to his heart
Eyes afire and shining proud
He sang...

He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt
Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury,
Carreras, he sang of Antoine,
Of Sinatra, Lennon, Morrison, Redding
He sang and songbirds paused in flight
He sang like them all

He sang a song of himself
Of leaves of grass, of second comings
Of Byron, and Bharti, and Cummings
He sang of Neruda, and Plath, Tagore
Dickinson, Kamala Das and Naidu
Oh, he sang of them all

He sang of art and beauty
Of Mona Lisa and starry nights
Girls in green dresses and pearls
He sang of Van Gogh, of Picasso
Of Rembrandt, da Vinci
He sang of Michelangelo

He sang of sadness, pain
He sang of My Lai, Sand Creek
Of Guernica and Krystallnacht
He cried and sang of Wounded Knee
Of Katyn Forest, Sabra and Shatila
Oh, he wept as he sang

He sang of history and wonders
He sang of Olduvai and pyramids
Machu Picchu, Tikal, and Angkor Wat
He sang of a great wall, the Taj Mahal
Stonehenge, Easter Isle, Mesa Verde
His song took us to them all

He sang of courage
A song of Bunker Hill, Gettysburg
Of the Alamo, Normandy, Stalingrad
Of Lincoln, Guevara and Dr. King
He sang of Bolivar, Bhutto, Ghandi
He shamed us with their song

He sang his song...
As women sighed and peasants cried
He  sang until the rifles fired, he died
Songbirds fell from the sky
Soldiers broke their guns on stones
And marched into the deep blue sea.

r ~ 4/12/14

Shadows slowly cast themselves
Upon a stranger’s face today
As we sat in silence in the waiting rooms of Hell
I stared with transfixed fascination
As those shadows kept at bay
What little life there was to have inside this putrid cell
I felt a hunger as I trembled
Morbid thoughts and plots were formed
And I began to taste the darkness forming at the edge
Promises of bloodlines broken
Hopes and dreams obliterated
I stalked my prey in silence as I stepped onto the ledge
The kiss of death sublime
Euphoric in sweet savagery
I cleared the mental cliffs as I embraced the crimson tide
Sanity and boundaries broken
Flesh consumed and penetrated
Welcoming the howling of the hell that lives inside

Skin and bone I have become
Flesh and blood have drained away
This heartless shell has grown forever cold
To the pain I now succumb
An overeager addict slave
Watching fractured sanity unfold
Memories, they scar my soul
Just like a dull and rusty blade
More deeply scar the memories that fade
I can't take back what I've become
But I will surely give away
The violence created by mistakes I have made

Twilight shines on blinded eyes
As blood congeals and silence falls
Though the taste of ****** sweetly lingers yet a while
Every scream and every cry
Nourishing the membrane walls
******* satisfaction brings a cold, sadistic smile
Drops of crimson such a pleasure
On both skin and ragged clothes
The smell of exposed entrails bringing mad, euphoric bliss
Lust for killing beyond measure
Entering the final throes
Still no less ****** than a long-dead lover’s kiss
And oh, the lies I tell myself
Of how this last will be the end
That no more will I give in to the sweet, addictive urge
Until the shadows cast themselves
Within the mirror once again
The promise will be broken as the want and need emerge

Skin and bone I have become
Flesh and blood have drained away
This heartless shell has grown forever cold
To the pain I now succumb
An overeager addict slave
Watching fractured sanity unfold
Memories, they scar my soul
Just like a dull and rusty blade
More deeply scar the memories that fade
I can't take back what I've become
But I will surely give away
The violence created by mistakes I have made

An animal I have become
Humanity is stripped away
Lust for blood will never be controlled
Falling farther beyond numb
Finding darker games to play
My dark mind consumes my very soul
Death resides within the hole
My failures and mistakes have made
As I deny salvation’s masquerade
I won’t take back what I’ve become
But I will surely strip away
The shadow-mask contagion of your bleeding-heart charade