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Azrapse Nov 2017
Fin
The lord is probably
Ashamed of me as son
Because I’m part of the ****
That walks his earth
Filling my lungs
with a toxic smoke
Drowning my liver
with a deadly elixir
Can’t go a day
With out a fix
I have 99 bars
And none of them
Are going to get spit
So I popped them all with Molly
And overdosed to the sirens
though strictly Fermi, and oh...(en Rico) plus sun
dre other parvenues, a rapture
     surges thru me,
     when audibly communicating, enunciating,
     and speaking English words

as if hi ken run
a marathon, or zip to the moon,
     (take as cheesy tong in cheek)
     from this pun
gent, who relishes reading for my eyes and ears
     asper myself, which purported nun

sense ink reese sees learn'n
     den earn an award,
especially wash'n black board
den breathing intelligent dust
     from eraser head could awk cord,

I utter Hieronymus Bosch, bing enamored,
and aye actually confess
     tubby a model United Nations chimp
pan zee, and/or other
     type of survey monkey hook can huff ford

Old Rotten Gotham horde
sliding down into the behavioral sink...
     exclaiming "oh me jack lord"
and getting rescued then getting less on,

     sans get'n taut how (muss elf George Eliot)
     tubby comb moored
     flossed, milled, and taut
     tubby trained for Operation Ready Date

     by a coop pull oof oot standing chap,
     named Adam West, who poured
salty epithets (reminding me, as they roared
that life iz brutal, short and nasty),

     part tickly ne'r the end
     wharf hew scored
and majority got de toured
until emotionally, physically,
     and spiritually enlightened
     By Rabindranath Tagore and Burt Ward.
Star BG Feb 2018
Drinking from breath
the elixir of life.
Eyes a-fixed to night vault
with its diamond stuttered stars.

A sight to dance with
as heartbeat plays
my tune of gratitude.

Drinking from breath
the elixir of life.
Eyes bond with fire mistress sun
who shines in grand welkin.

A sight to dance with
as heartbeat plays
a tune of gratitude.

Love is in the air
Inspired by Valsa George poem Animation. A gift to the poetic world
Arnauld Jarvis Jul 2017
-I've got bored of words.
-You tergiversate... Small world.What this bouquet of flowers is doing in the intermediate?It's a date?
-Ah... such prolixity... More champagne?
-What's the point?
-My aim? Mmm... to try to oscullate you.
-... What?... Such profane elixir do you desire?
-It'll be more than tasty.It's alleged...
-But, don't you distinguish the mayhem's reflection below?
-Your solicitude.. Ah!... What a nice champagne.Hmm... Cake? By the other way or not there's nothing at the ceiling.
-You've perused my protocol... A small slice, please.
-A kiss a skirmish.Palatable as this recipe... Well... apart from an armageddon...
-Stop pushing on boy.
-I already vanquished the inception, you know...
-Catastrophe is your trophy, but I disavow your apocalypse.
-I was expecting something more digestible.How's the alcohol?
-Standstill...
-Hm!... As everything surrounding us.
-Ahhh... No... They just don't move.. don't have gravity...
-Funny waiter... Hovering waiter.Did you emend your canon?
-Champagne and desserts will not litigate your anticipation.You know.How strange is...
-The room? No... Is normal for it to circle upside down.
-A hug?
-In this desert? With all those people?
-They are frozen, and... before I veto, quivering in a hurt heart.
-Blown sand... popped champagne... Oh, I didn't notice the light fixture's embroidery.
-The sun's in the bottom.Look up... Its obumbration is into the typhoon.
-Standstill, nothing's synchronized...
-Is your tranquility dissipated? gone?...
-No.If isn't yours.
-I just still want that hug.
-Hmmm... I forgot you're a cold person...
-And you a hot girl... Irony...
-You'll melt...
-I'm apt to it...

Then an aurora flash
And splashing glass
Accompanied by springing sparks
Shattered bass walls
Begetting noctilucent dark and dusk
A hurricane, breathing the sun
Just dust to dust
Zero Nine Jun 2017
Why, you ask, can't we kiss?
I'm playing hard to get.
Why, you ask, deny bliss?
I flash a fang and say,
I want to get you wet.

If your body permits me
I'll taste your ***
While you stroke my head
I'll swallow your dis-ease

Drink your disease.
Should you allow.
Drink your cocktail.
Should you please,

I'll lick your wounds forever.
Drink your elixir.
Prostrate without your asking.
In your divine glow.
Take this please, because it's killing me.
A garden
of Dioscorides
here hibiscus
with a
mural or
statue as
sigh for
apologia if
now herb
enchanted destiny
has claim
in riverbed
with tomorrow's
news when
long ago
a remedy
of civility.
M Harris Mar 2017
Sacramental Elixir & Illuminated Blues,
Experimental Flauntings Of Her Midsummer Hues,

Radioactive Eyes & Her Fairytale Lies,
Seductive Abuses Across The New Divide,

Vivid Intersections In Her Phenomenal Rage,
Shatterproof Reflections Splattered Upstage,

Midnight Passions Of Her Perplexed Lust,
Starlight Rains Glittering Hybrid Dusts,

Transitional Paradigms & Engineered Moans,
Theatrical Concoctions In Her Symphonic Tones,

Flirtatious Illuminations Under The Darkest Light,
Stained Animations Igniting Kryptonite,

Palisades Of Her Collated Reflections,
Cascades Emitting Her Sedated Projections,

Contraband Infatuation Resonating Magnetic Love,
Raving Constellations Provocating Atomic Dove,

Divine Catharsis Of Her Cupid Amour Eternity,
Valentine Bliss Mystifying Her Restrained Insanity,

Charismatic Futility & ****** Binge,
Cinematic Tranquility Emanating From Her Bulletproof Sins,

Neon Subways & Fragile Foreplays,
Sensual Arrays Of Her Red-Light Decays.

- 03:53AM -
ryn Feb 2017
Surrendering the blood...

Drawn by dull,
rusty syringes.

Manipulated by
villainous fingers.

Promised elixir
but
peddled drugs.
Lunar Oct 2016
how to heal a broken heart,
when you, yourself, are falling apart?
and this is a risk i must take
when missing you is a heartache.

to be cured of being love and homesick,
when you will return to me in the end.
i'd say you, the medicine, are perfect;
you miraculously make me better in an instant.
love me, heal me

1/13 of the Pocketry Series.
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