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Kata Jul 15
Curse the poets blood.
No matter how much I cut myself, I cannot bleed it away.
Curse the poets skin.
I cannot tear it off, it holds everything in.
Curse the poets feet.
The more I try to run away, the more they dig in, rooted to the words that ground my life.
Curse the poets tears.
They provide no comfort. They blur my vision, wet my pages and smudge my ink.
Curse the poets mind.
At times I dream of throwing it all away. But I cannot differentiate between reality and figments of creativity.
M Solav Jun 24
There is a curse in every name.
Shoot me in the back of the head and I’ll be dead,
But my name shall carry on
In the depth of my killer
If he was a friend
Or in the wallet that he stole from the corpse
Now lying dead on the floor.

"But the curse", I explained
"Is neither in the ****** nor in the theft,
Nor is it retribution for a life shamelessly taken.
It’s in the neatly shaped boxes
In which the mind must be bent
To fit the guilty and the innocent alike
And each and all of their names."

That is the real ******;
And that is retribution.
Written on May 18th, 2023.

— Copyright © M. Solav —

This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
Jia Ming Jan 31
I had thought that I wanted a mug,
so I sought an adventure and dug!
"I'm just digging materials..." I shrugged:
"I'm just wanting enough to be chugged!"

But instead what I found was a Bowl,
from a 20th century ghoul.
On its side was inscripted in gold:

So I thought and I thinked and I thank,
and I brought my new thing to the bank!
But before I could speak I was yanked—
I had fallen but It had me tanked!

In a daze I was scrambling to piece,
all the shards that had broke, as the peace,
and to fix it all back in the leasts,
so that we don't all turn into beasts!
Adam Schmitt Nov 2022
What lines,
Scope and everbirth,
dwell within
corkscrewed graves
Of my ancestors'
passion projects?
We are all pawns of something bigger than ourselves.
Faith Sep 2022
What a world I live in
To experience emotions as powerfully as I do

My sadness is not an ache in my heart
With mascara tracks running down
It is deep, mournful, body-shaking sobs
Oceans of clear tears streaming from reddened green eyes

My anger is not a flickering flame of annoyance
Nor a clenched body needing a release
But an entirely enveloping wildfire
Blinding me from reason and logic

And neither is my love just comfort
Or a desire to care and be cared for
But a presence that encapsulates every thought
Every movement, every moment, defined by desire

Oh, it is a poet's dream
And a woman's curse
anastasia Apr 2022
I was molded by his own hand
sculpted to perfection and eager to please
who else other than my husband
for without Adam, there is no Eve

at least, that was before he slithered into our perfect life
pounding our perfect garden into the ground with his slick feet
conniving and a brute,
he convinced me to take a bite
and share my fruit with man
for what is mine is his
my knowledge is his

I am his

together we ate
snacking and licking our fingers with glee
wiping the secretions of the fruit of mankind
against the tree we tore it from

until our Paradise's pastures declined
the wildflowers overtrodded with weeds
the singing waterfall vanished
only to be replaced by an evil, magmatic spout

and our tree,
our once bountiful, glorious, fruitful tree
decayed from the inside out

Adam's burning glare rotted my fruit and my seeds
until they and I dropped to the burning embers on the ground
like nicks off of a pebble that was thrown too hard
or like hairs from the back of a matted mother cat
that has spent far too many heatless winters hunting
for a different life,
for any life

with no more than a curse from Him,
I became the failed experiment of humanity
tossed into God's own graveyard
left to rot with my stolen seed
I S A A C Feb 2022
put it on me like a curse
be a good man, my first
tend to my needs like a nurse
my tears are aquamarine
my heart is rose gold
my eyes are jade stones
don't think that I don't know
how the lotus unfolds
fee Jan 2022
she's a waterfall of curse
carrying a spell
she couldn't carry
they stare with a flame
she's strapped by the fame
remain calm
outrages come
spell the curse
in her sleep
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