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Sipping champagne at 30.000 feet,
Fangs and claws can never reach us.

No longer fearing the beast,
War and famine spills from our hands.

Are we just,
Monkeys with guns and spaceships,
Calling a tiny speck of dust home.

They say,
Get yours before it's too late.

Dining on desire,
We decide.

Astronauts or soldiers.
Poetic T Jan 2015
It happened every moon that
Filled the sky, the transformation
Couldn't be stopped.
I howled in defiance
I howled to cure the moon
I spoke unto the heavens
"Freedom from you"
I walked the places I could not
Have before, birthday suit
Wasn't the suit to show my
Face arrested for sure.
"Washing lines"
"Like a free store"
Socks,
Knickers,
Trousers,
Then last of all a shirt to finish me off,
Knickers you think?? this doesn't happen
All the time, but I find them nice to the touch.
I could feel you clawing upon the flesh
"Needing release"
But this is the moon of plenty now play
Nice, soon it will be your turn.
I sink pints as if water, then I find
Myself licking at the pint of ale,
Looking around,
Quizative,
Stares,
Beard
Upon my face, weren't you shaven when
You entered this place??
Hoooooowwww.
Do I know, I didn't look in the mirror
Before I left home.
"You drunk fella"
Nooooowwww
Right out the door I was politely
Thrown to the curb.
Well at least I tasted it this time,
"Golden nectar"
The animal is approaching
"My moment has pasted"
As I arch in agony,
Some one kicks me,
"Laughs at my pain"
"Would you like to meet my friend"
"He'll take a bite out of you friend"
Kicked upon the face as clothes shred off.
"The wolf is released"
Gone is man, primal form freedom
From that white hell that plagues
Every full moon,
I clamp down upon
Meat,
Marrow,
Bone
Shatters in my fanged grasp,
As my claws rip upon his throat.
I swipe once more as his head detaches
And leaves a frozen look of terror,
Rolling upon the floor.
I am free, I am the beast as I
Pounce upon road and path,
I reach the outskirts of my home
"I look at the manmade filth"
Howling into the night I am wolf,
Cured to be man for when the moon shines
I am that which is cursed I become man.
  .
A twist on the story,,
Claws that scrape down my arm.
Claws that draw crimson blood.
Claws that whisper,
"You're done..."

Claws that scrape the metal walls.
Claws that tear me to shreds.
Claws that whisper,
"You're a mistake..."

Claws that scrape my heart.
Claws that are seared in my mind.
Claws that whisper,
"I wish you'd never been apart..."

Claws that scrape my soul.
Claws they scrape my irises.
Claws that whisper,
*"I wish your mother had been bare..."
hallucinations Dec 2014
teeth sunk into the flesh
of a lover,
white dress, pure.

crimson, like roses,
like blood
both intoxicating;
sweet, sickly

eyes blazing,
like fire.
raging with hatred
that fills the heart of
a broken down soul

the promises that were made,
abandoned, like the lover
you left at the alter  

                                                        ­      ( “i do” , as love spews,                                                     with blood
                                                           ­           out of the wounds
                                                          ­    that your hands claw at)
twenty-fourteen|(c)hallucinations
Hunter K Oct 2014
You curl up in bed,
Just like your mother said.
No monsters in the closets,
No more nightmare deposits.
Its that time of the week,
Where you can get a good nights sleep.
No more sharp claws,
No more strong toothy jaws.
Its about time you over come,
And send the monsters back to where their from!
i Sep 2014
you stole my heart
and you locked it
in a cage, unable
to escape your
dangerous,
disasterous claws.
Sanket Shrestha Aug 2014
And before I extended my claws onto your hearth,
I dwelled within a secret passion: I brushed up on sneaking and marking the spot for my next apocalyptic arson
And yet I could never spout the rage that fuels my husk of a being onto your haven
Your abode stinks;
The reek of naïve youth and ***** lust at night
And yet I could never expunge the puny shred of mercy embedded on my aortic psyche
You win this round
For now,
my claws will try to cut the life you absorb from the air that pervades your hearth
Before they turn to fingers, before my wrath subsides in mortal disbelief of its own vulnerable
                                      humanity
I shall incite fresh fear and death inspired odes within me once again

And on a fateful humid night,
I shall let myself perspire at the sight of infant wreckage burning with fervor and life
Your abode in flames of red and azure
And if you burn,
Apologies.
I merely hope your ashes will spark the flame bright for at least a little while
Ahh...such sweltering warmth
Anastasia Webb Jul 2014
With long flowered fingers you could explore your head
your very own head
(your very own head)
pry apart the skull with red-painted fingernails
that scrape and scratch your skin
eat out your brain
Eat out your brain

Child of the mountains, reined on
your very own moss, grown in your garden
outside of a crude stone cottage
next to a murky brown creek,
mossbeds surrounded by rounded stones,
all chocolate-ebony and smelling
of earth

that is when you have to pull out
your cultured claws
and eat out your brain.
Your very own brain.

You wish you could paint those talons
and set them on a purse and force
your fat scaly body into a pretty dress
your elongated wide feet into heels
and dance.

But you eat out your brain
Burn the ends of your fingers
no fraying here,
You eat out your brain,
like a slushy, so sticky, so smooth
so stringy.

eat out your brain
(eat out your brain)
Martin Narrod May 2014
The likes of you I can't describe,
Yet I love to eat between your thighs.
The melody you spake to me
Unfolds my greatest sovereignty.
I crave to quaff all of your spit,
And swallow every drop of it.
Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh,
Those bare and supple ****** *******,
Your eyes that follow my firm gaze,
While we kiss and lick and misbehave.
I need to feel each piece of skin,
Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again.
It's such a treat to eat you whole;
I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
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