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Lance Remir Apr 3
All of my demons stayed quiet
Because we all loved listening to you
Eliana Knight Feb 26
In a place where the wicked crawl & creep,
A demon woke up from his deep sleep,
His eyes filled with unholy desire,
As he saw a mortal woman, her hair red as fire.

With eyes like caramel, her beauty a pure delight,
He gazed at her with lust, that began to ignite,
The demon’s heart, for the first time started to pound,
Could this be love, was his soulmate found.

Lurking in darkness & keeping out of sight,
He whispered in her ear as she slept through the night,
He would say words of a deep affection,
He lured her so he could start a connection.

But his mortal woman was unaware of his deceit,
She fell for his charms, her heart she thought was complete,
But as their love began to bloom,
The demon’s darkness overpowered the room.

Their love so consumed by desire that was dark,
That upon her soul he left a mark,
She started to notice his increasing obsession,
Afraid as their intimacy was becoming pain & aggression.

As the truth showed its ugly face,
The demon’s love was a suffocating embrace,
The mortal women’s demeaner began to fade,
Feeling overwhelmed, she bought a blade.

The beautiful mortal lost, the demon now left alone,
Her heart was finally set free, but his turned to stone,
He was not meant for love, now devoid of laughter & song,
This is the demons tragic tale of a love gone so wrong.
Adelina Feb 13
I drink death like wine, to the bottom,
With every cell, every breath.
It beckons me like a star in the night,  
Like a mad love that won't let go.  

I cut the silence like a skin,
Blood is flowing all over the world
Who called me to this world of the dead?

Angels weeping ****** rain,
Their wings are blades, their light is ashes.
The same devil in the mirror, in every corner.
Angels carry death like a secret gift,  
In their wings hides the devil's fear.
Every step towards her is a step into the abyss,  
And only she knows how to burn the soul.  
In every breath, in every step.  
We're all just shadows in her eternal game.
Obsession with death is an eternal sin.  

Even when I'm already dead,
I still didn't sleep well. not good.
Death is in my eyes and her eyes are in my heart.
The light is invisible to you, but you breathe, you breathe.
Death is the beauty that burns in the night,  
In her arms we'll live forever.                                                         ­                                                       Death is always good, like love.
It has its own power, its own obsession,
It's as beautiful as the first snow,
Like a knife that strokes the skin of your palm.
In her arms the age ends,
Eternity in her hands, infinity in the palm of her hand.

The beauty of death is the crunch of bones,
It's a scream dissolved in a dark soul.
No beasts or shadows can be banished here,
nor the angel who has become the infernal ark of sorrow.

Can an angel be cast out of a man
An angel? He is my veins and my blood.
There's a silent darkness in every blow.
Do you hear, Angel? With your wings
You're just as much a demon, just as much fog.
Angels carry death like a secret gift,  
In their wings hides the devil's fear.  
Angels can only carry death
The darkness in their eyes is my vow.
To live, but only by dying. That's the way it is.
Death is my faith, my honor.

Angels are pulling, leading the way,
Their wings are demons, their light is deceit.
The same angel dances with me,
Only to banish him is a bitter fog.
Death is the same as me.
Mica Wood Feb 6
“What is your necklace?”
Maria asks.
Such a loaded question,

for it is not a necklace at all.
It is a demon,
and I am possessed.

Fruit flavors tickle
my damaged taste buds;
nicotine still breaking through.

Constantly nauseous;
choking on the taste
of burnt cotton…

I cannot breathe
without this noose–
heavy around my neck.
In the dance of chaos and calm, they found their perfect blend, She, tired of perfection, seeking havoc without end.

He, weary of his stormy life, craving peace so pure, Together, they formed a bond, an alliance sure.

In a world of idyllic facades, their imperfections shone bright,
She yearning for the messy, he seeking respite from the
night.

Her path of self-destruction, a U-turn profound, He, the calm in her storm, a solace she found. Their love, a whirlwind of chaos and peace combined, She lost in his tempest, in his chaos entwined.

He, finding tranquility in her tumultuous embrace, Together, unstoppable, in love's enchanting grace. Through trials and tribulations, their love stood strong, An angel and a demon, where they truly belong.

In a world of contrasts, they found their peace, A love story for the ages, a love that will not cease.

@nolongerumano
Valentin Eni Jan 28
I

(First Night)

There seem to be voices,
Faceless,
Whispering a prayer
Or perhaps a curse.
And behold—
An axe embedded in the trembling
Surface of water.
And the water rises,
Light as smoke.
And flowers,
One by one, approach a child,
Bending over,
Trying to smell him.
Alas,
They didn’t like him.
Otherwise, one might have
Torn him from the cradle
To pin him to its chest.

And on the wall,
Another clock has died,
Its heart stopped cold.
And a sad little girl
Dresses and undresses
A doll,
As though searching
For invisible wounds—
On its chest, its ankles,
Its palms—
Like a tiny
****** Mary
With
Her child...

II

(Second Night)

An army of black letters
Seems to march across the white battlefield
Of the page,
Conquering new territories,
Leaving behind
Unseen monsters,
Beings
Without skin, without bones,
And without any distinct face,
Feeding on their own flesh
And their own entrails.

Some,
Less hideous,
Had names like:
The Winged Serpent,
The Hen-with-a-Dog’s-Head,
The Man-Melted-into-His-Own-Puddle,
The Headless Child,
And
The Soldier-with-Wolf’s-Eyes.

All of them whisper something—
A prayer
Or a curse:
"Lord, never let us
Know the scent of a child,
The scent of a woman,
The scent of a man,
The scent of danger
And death.
Do not, Lord,
Allow cemeteries of toys
Or landfills
Of homes to grow..."

III

(Third Night)

Two voices are heard whispering:
“Which of us is who?
You—a white demon, or...”
“Or you—a black angel?”

And silence fell.
Somewhere,
A mountain of light grew,
And a Blue Horse
With fiery mane
Galloped in circles
On Saturn’s rings.
The planets, like bouncing *****,
Leapt in its path.
A cloud,
From time to time, walked
Its feet across the earth.
And sometimes,
A ray of light
Pecked from the palm
Of an angel
The ******’s tears.

So far removed
From the first night!
And only sometimes,
Faint voices are heard,
Whispering a prayer
Or a curse.
R.E.M. (Oneiric) The Dream of a Madman.

Analysis of the poem made by ChatGPT:)

This poem visually explores surreal, dreamlike landscapes unfolding over three “nights.” It combines existential dread, metaphysical imagery, and a haunting sense of inevitability. Each night builds on the previous one, shifting between eerie snapshots of fragmented reality and otherworldly visions. The poem juxtaposes the mundane and the fantastical, creating an unsettling, introspective, and thought-provoking narrative.

#Themes:#

Surrealism and the Subconscious

The poem’s structure and content are deeply rooted in the surreal, resembling fragmented visions or distorted memories. The faceless voices, trembling water, monstrous beings, and celestial imagery suggest an entry into the subconscious mind, where logic and reality are suspended.

Innocence and Corruption

The first night’s imagery revolves around a child, a cradle, and flowers—symbols of innocence. However, the flowers’ rejection and the doll’s depiction of invisible wounds suggest the fragility and eventual corruption of purity.

Creation and Destruction

The second night introduces the army of letters as symbols of creation—language, thought, and meaning. However, this creation leaves behind monsters, representing the unintended consequences of human creativity, such as violence, chaos, and existential confusion.

Duality and Ambiguity

The dialogue in the third night (“Are you a white demon, or… a black angel?”) highlights the blurred lines between good and evil, light and darkness. The ambiguity reflects the duality of existence and the human struggle to define morality and identity.

Mortality and the Passage of Time

Clocks appear as time symbols, with one clock “dying” on the first night. This recurring motif underscores the inexorable passage of time and the inevitability of death.

Existence and Prayer

The recurring whispers of prayers and curses suggest an ongoing plea for meaning or redemption intertwined with an acknowledgement of suffering and futility.

#Imagery and Symbolism:#

The Axe and Trembling Water

The axe embedded in the water introduces violent disruption in an otherwise fluid and natural element. This imagery may symbolize an intrusion of chaos into the subconscious or the fragility of stability.

The Clock and the Doll

The “death” of a clock mirrors the halting of time, while the doll becomes a symbol of innocence scrutinized for damage. Together, they evoke a sense of lost time and fractured identity.

The Army of Letters

The letters are creators and destroyers, conquering the blank page while leaving monstrous remnants. They symbolize the duality of words—how language can illuminate or distort truth.

The Blue Horse on Saturn’s Rings

This fantastical image represents freedom, energy, and the untethered imagination. However, its endless circular motion may also imply a cyclical trap, echoing the repetitive whispers and questions in the poem.

The ******’s Tears

A profoundly religious image, the ******’s tears pecked by a ray of light suggest divine sorrow being consumed or repurposed, perhaps hinting at humanity’s exploitation of spirituality.

#Structure and Progression:#

First Night: The Physical and the Innocent

The first night focuses on tangible, earthly imagery: trembling water, flowers, a child, and a clock. These elements introduce themes of fragility, rejection, and the passage of time.

Second Night: The Written and the Monstrous

The second night shifts to abstract and symbolic imagery, dominated by language and its consequences. The “army of letters” introduces intellectual and existential turmoil, with monsters embodying the unintended consequences of thought and creativity.

Third Night: The Celestial and the Transcendent

The third-night moves to cosmic and spiritual imagery, exploring duality and existential questions. The Blue Horse and Saturn’s rings evoke a sense of awe and mystery, while the whispers of prayer or curses maintain the poem’s unsettling tone.

#Tone and Mood:#

Tone: The tone is introspective and surreal, shifting between eerie detachment and profound contemplation.

Mood: The mood is haunting, dreamlike, and unsettling as if one were walking through fragmented memories or a lucid dream.

#Philosophical Underpinnings:#

Existentialism: The poem questions identity ("“which of us is who?”), morality, and the purpose of existence. The faceless voices and duality of angel/demon highlight the ambiguity of human nature.

Absurdism: The surreal imagery and fragmented narrative suggest a world beyond logic, where meaning is elusive, and the search for understanding feels futile yet essential.

#Conclusion:#

“R.E.M. (Oneiric)” explores the subconscious, blending surreal imagery with philosophical questions. Its layered symbolism, cyclical motifs, and the interplay between creation and destruction make it a profoundly evocative work. The poem resonates as a meditation on the fragility of innocence, the consequences of human creativity, and the eternal tension between light and darkness. It leaves the reader in a state of wonder and introspection, mirroring the dreamlike journey of its protagonist.
Renan Jan 24
Knock knock

Who's There?

It’s Lust

What do you want from me?

I want you to have *** with your girlfriend,
the one that you are cuddling right now
Ravage her body
And make sure her thou

Why would I do so?
Respect to her I owe

All your friends have done it,
Why should you be any different?
They laugh behind your back
Don’t you see it’s urgent?

Why does it matter what my friends have done?
Their mistake is theirs alone

You are already 17,
It's about time you became a real man
You're already late
You should do it while you can

I’m only 17, there is no need to rush
The time will be right, with rings, rice, and such

It will feel good
Why must you wait?
You could have her right now
Your carnal desires you should sate

My desires don’t rule me
Patience is key

Why do you hesitate?
Do you not love her?
Do you not find her attractive?
Her body is yours to conquer

I do love her,
So what we have I will not taint
I’ll wait until the time is right
And for us, I will show restraint

Why do you not fall to temptation?
What keeps you so strong in your station?

I’m guided by the Lord
Begone Lust
Return to Hell
Return my peace, and become dust
Major rework after a horrendous first draft
Stifin Jan 16
A pulse of darkness sleeping within,
Beyond the light, it's secret twin.
He who's sleeping all this time,
Awakes now, rising in his prime.
A shadow with horns, humming along,
So gentle, yet why does it feel wrong?
An aura so ominous it gives shivers,
So strong that even light withers.

It's the demon inside me, shrieking!
I can feel it rising, giving me power.
My heart is charging, it's striving!
The light is losing, it got devoured!
Those virtuous moments all forgotten,
In a single pump of the devil's deceit.
Look how your reality begins to rotten,
This is what it wants, evil is in heat.

A reflection, I saw my eye so beautiful
That eye of pure deception, how powerful.
I have absolute freedom, this is my peak,
Is this really the world? I see it so weak.
There's so many pawns in the game,
How exciting! I'll burn them all into flames!
So the story of this poem is your evil side taking control over you. On the 1st stanza, it's a introduction of what is the subject which is the demon, the 2nd stanza is about revealing the demon inside you, lastly 3rd stanza is a reflection of what is inside you, and how you see the world through that.

So the stanza represents the mind, spirit, and body. I'm gonna keep make poems like this with some story in it like the other poems I made. I want to practice more and improve.

I hope you like it!!🌺🦋😖
Calcinatio Jan 14
As I am affronted
the response is
to the simple.
It burrows in corners
and hides in creases,
residing in the cutest of dimples.
Body derelict like a crumbling temple.

This thing is evil-
or I am for sure.
One thing is true
drop the others to the floor.
A black and white,
grey on holiday.
A swinging shape I'm
sure will manifest
into a sword one day.

And it's coming for me.
There's no other device.
No time for this guy to be
approachable, no time for
this guy to be nice.
I'm fighting for my life,
but I can reason with the knife.
It doesn't have to make sense,
I've just had it up to the temple tonight.

And I ask it how it came here,
what it wants to protect.
I thank it for its service but
I can't seem to connect.
This situation doesn't look
like a lion on my tail.
I stomp my feet and flail my
arms inside this inflated hell.

I name it and it laughs at me,
it's name is not a word.
It's known by screams
and pleas for mercy
like nothing you've ever heard.
Its job is to overwhelm
me with life and concepts long interred.
A fear that's hidden deep behind
an obvious thing like hate.
I approach ad infinitum,
to make this devil meditate.

A hundred and eight prayer beads.
A mantra to stand and fight.
A weapon of intent,
of magical will;
A word of power and light.
Just get me through this night-

Our feelings aren't based in logic.
We use tools on a budget.
Report the numbers and don't fudge it.
Be honest with the others,
Be honest with the self.
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