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Danielle Oct 2018
I’m a cannibal.
We’ll let that sink in.
It takes moment to digest that thought.
Sorry I have terrible humor, I know.
Why and who?
Mostly myself, I cannibalize me,
To rearrange my understanding of self.
It doesn’t survive upon contact you see.  
So I slice and dice, chop and whip.
Until nothing irritates and the rot sets in.
Then I have to cut out the bad parts
And try to put myself back together again.
So you see it’s really not easy,
Being a cannibal.
But **** I bet the final product will be delicious.
I hate it when I catch myself doing this, trying to put others so far ahead of myself that I just end up hurting myself. I'll learn how to avoid it eventually. Hopefully.
Eric Babsy Sep 2018
You are fake when you are there.
You make me lead a life of damage so disappear.
We are not talking all that gobbledygook.
If you do not know what you did to my life just look.
No more of me trying to placate around.
I can not find anyone to listen right now.
You just scuttle along your business.
Because you ripped me away from my true path of this existence.
Always the one to make me a maladroit.
Sometimes I think you do this to annoy.
It made me feel like a pipsqueak in a vast universe.
You will never make the grade with the past you coerce.
You were always the one to instigate me to aggress.
A kind of quality I could not digest.
My heart is beating like a rataplan.
If you think I can’t stop you, I can.
This is my final written gesture.
Now my life will no longer fester.
I grow forever fonder.
Because I will no longer sit and ponder.
As the years grow faster.
The years you took forever will remain a disaster.
I have been made an **** creature.
So sit back and enjoy what fight I have left in here.
Here are the new rules.
I have you in stitches, so do not move.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
I was listening to a poet
reciting his poem “Times”.
He was pondering, could
it be like this and that?
Suddenly my cup of tea
happened to taste so sweet,
made me wonder why
wasn’t it such an edgy,
a while ago any time
before now just as tasty.

Where on a stony thorn
was it stuck this long?
It had to bloom just now,
so sweet a rose!  
No one predicted whether it
will rain or not, it just drops.
The sun, shedding clouds,
suddenly swims so low!

Pondering me, I could
then only digest it
accepting a truth:
It doesn’t matter when
the bees love to come out,
sit on the rose and fly.
For the time, its best bard
only sings on time!
Janie Elizabeth Oct 2017
Feed from my soul
Drain me of all life
Take away my happiness
Take away my mind
Grow stronger from my pain
Grow happier from my misery
Show me your way
Show me your hate
Bring me to despair
Bring me to emptiness
Come digest me
Come destroy me
Make me hurt
Make me cry
Sink your teeth into my flesh
Sink your claws into my throat
Carnivore
Ksjpari Aug 2017
It is the place of ill’s mausoleum;
This book is really an imperium
Which teaches everyone decorum.
A true product of petroleum –
To fire out fallacy and presidium
And produces highest order decorum.
A place of mental gymnasium:
Highly creative, productive ***
Where ill shaded in mausoleum,
The place with lot of decorum,
Cannot be found in millennium.
It is the place of ill’s mausoleum.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Ksjpari Aug 2017
The only book teaching humanism;
The only which cures locoism;
One and only poem for lyricism
Is Reader’s Digest’s mechanism.
If you see it through any prism
Can find joy, fun, thrill and sarcasm
This is a  weak agent of nihilism;
This is the best known idealism
Where all spend individualism
To receive mental masochism.
Reading it is just like mesmerism.
Without it school suffers gargoylism.
Indian tradition or let be Maoism,
It is well read and accepted optimism.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Ksjpari Aug 2017
One of the resourceful books unbeatable;
Children’s love, care and comfort biddable
Is none better than Reader’s Digest – capable.
Articles, reports, jokes and anecdotes audible;
All are present in it; all are undoubtable.
Changing the mindset of students capable
Is a new, systematic thing coachable.
Changing the world and its cannibal
Into the virtues and values bindable.
Explaining itself if anytime culpable;
And so is famous for being countable.
Teachers, parents, students ennoble
Reader’s Digest for not being enfeeble.
Leaders or followers who are like a crucible
Change their minds and be bendable.
Behaviour and conduct – key undoubtable
Will keep you atop, elevated, lofty and able.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Crimsyy Mar 2017
I could chew my way
through all the armless hugs,
through all the silences,
but an infestation of truth
tore away the mask
which allowed me to pursue
such a mindless task,
and now I can no longer
act so automatic,
no longer just a passenger
in my own mind,
I'm either indifferent or dramatic.
And now the entrace is closed
for what I detest,
you're a part of me and
I hope you don't mind,
but darling, your knives
were always the hardest to digest.
Crimsyy Oct 2016
It's not me, it's not me, you see.
It's not me you're questioning.
It's not me who propels this
dark side of my psyche.

Anti hides behind my friend, Hope.
Anti hides behind my friend, Light.
Anti has resided in me for quite a while.
Anti hides behind every face-lighting smile.

Anti is not my happiness,
It's all the sides of me I'd rather not see,
All the sides that feel so right
when they speak of the
wrong things to me,
So real, so authentic.
Anti's not who I'm meant to become;
a contradiction manifesting
itself into my body.

Sometimes, I feel it take over me,
Sometimes I let it win.
That's usually when people
start to not recognize me,
That's usually when I feel
my kindness freeze,
I feel my impatience
and tolerance cease -
I can no longer digest
anything around me.
Love is when you can't control your fast beating heart
Your sweat from the stress
The amount of words you can't digest
And the physical excitement from your body.
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