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Jack Torrance Apr 2018
****, messy,
exquisitely wet.
A soft moan escapes you,
as our lips met.
Slide my hand up your shirt,
to the small of your back.
Your muscles are tense,
the night is so black.
I pull you in close,
my other hand in your hair.
You grind hard against me,
moaning at what’s there.
This is wrong, and we know it,
so wrong, it’s taboo.
We can stop it right here,
but neither one of us do.
Now your hand is clutching,
and it’s like fire now.
We’re ripping, and tearing,
like animals on the prowl.
There are climaxes,
too many to count.
We’re gasping, and panting,
and both screaming out.
We’re using each other,
like we knew that we would.
It’s so ******* wrong,
but it’s so ******* good.
The guilt can come later,
as well as the shame.
But not while I’m inside you,
not while your screaming my name.
Mark Armstrong Apr 2018
Rapt by prognosis, sterile elocution
Acute halitosis, banal delusion
Digital notice of distant retribution
Thrombosis will move you before revolution

Brash adolescent right-side part,
Strand obsolescence, abstract art
Pinstripe filaments, two turned backs
Bowed in benevolence, borrowing slack

Hieroglyphic ruminations,
Plastered protestations.
Muscle memory incantations,
Aquifuge of patience.

Future shock, feminists ride-centaurs
Skin-tan hedonists reside-indoors
Tin-can telephone spinal chord,
Sings-an injured semitone final word

40 years since you were a punk
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
Push on through


The world is a scary place and there is nowhere left to hide;
The nightmares are hunting us down and they are crawling inside.
Run from your life, they are coming to get you;
Keep on going, push on through.


Do not allow yourself to become boxed in;
Caged inside a nightmare of a life, with no sight of a key.
Set yourself free from their bonds of security,
That keeps you trapped in debt without any hope of release.


Push on through to the other side of the night
And in dawns breaking light, you will save a life.
Save yourself from your home made evil;
Fight away the beast and search for all the beautiful people.


Go forth and multiply; this is the spell we are under.
Instincts so old, they are humanities goal
And they drive us into the arms of our lover.
Without a love to hold, this world would only **** those who do;
But with love we can make a change and push on through.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
SaWal Mar 2018
And 'it' must go on <------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                                                                     |
My ride is fast but my road is slow                                                      
I am going through dark, but i promise to glow                                  |
                                                                                                                    
I am the right arrow, using the wrong bow                                          |
Enough seeing through the wrong window, now time to
walk out of the right door                                                                        |

I explored me, you and us when I hit the very low                            
'Et tu brute' Man I never thought you too would join the ** ** **
                                                                                                                     |
Stuff me with all that you got and more                                              
I will take it all and I will still roar                                                         |
                                                                                                                    
When my feet's cold and life seems to take a toll                                |
I still feel blessed as I have my words -they are a WRITER'S Gold  
                                                                                                                     |
They say I am not what they see I can be, I say the same but I vow
That there will be a day when you will be reading columns
and I will be moving up the rows                                                            
                                                                                                                     |
I trust this struggle, that is my ladder to glory because I know        
If I give up today, I don't deserve no tomorrow                                  |
                                                                                                                    
I try, I loose, I learn, I try harder, you wish but won't see me go      |
Because this is my war, my ground, my dreams,
my screams,my shoes, my stage, MY SHOW<-----------------------------
Vale Luna Dec 2017
Mommy! Mommy! I'm crying!
Jumping in the rocking chair
Baby, sit down, stop your whining.
Tearing a stranger’s underwear

Mommy! Mommy! I feel sick!
Sharp words spoken through *****
Sweetie, would you stop your joking?
A freshly rolled joint made for smoking

Mommy! Mommy! I can't breathe!
Hysteria from the panic
Dearest, just take some pills, please.
On the drugs from the attic

Mommy! Mommy! My chest hurts!
Rapid pounding through the shirt
Honey, shut up, drink your bottle.
Alcohol straight from the nozzle

Mommy! Mommy! I'm choking!
Falling into a seizure
Darling, would you quit your moaning?
A midnight *****, all too eager

Mommy! Mommy! I'm bleeding!
The sound of terrified weeping
Sweetheart, all you need is some sleep.
Gone too high on amphetamines

Mommy! Mommy! I'm dying!
Skin starting to change color
Baby, lay down, stop your whining.
Forgetting to be a mother.
some of us are bog people
we live with the snails and the maggots
making bacteria
we're suckers for substance
the dirt speaks to us
some of us are bog people
we hang with the microorganisms
making pilgrimages
we're slimey silt and silage
full-tilt and raw
the dirt wants us

dig it or dig it not
we can't help it
some of us are just bog people
spending time in a natural environment, hills, fields, mountains, sea, sky, woods, dogs, rats, , sheep, cows, horses; watching the insects and flies doing their day inspired the above............the comparisons to us humans are many.
Gabriel burnS Aug 2017
My skin can hear your colors
From the other end
Of happiness

But the line is folding in a loop
Closing in a circle
And the end is the beginning

Time is tesselating
Unto itself
But we have not the senses

There is no loss
Just continuation
Into the unknown

Relativity delays
The arrival of awareness
Consciousness is slow to form

The cooling of the mold
Takes a great deal more
Hence, the procrastination

Inert and habitual;
Words taking root
In everything

My end and your beginning
Collided into a freshly manifesting
Iteration of existence

The bud becomes
The fruit
A new cycle
Gabriel burnS Jul 2017
I'm a biochemical construct
mechanical of flesh and bone
software-infused hardware being,
another release,
an incrementally updated
version of humanity;
all off my data cells
come with prerequisites
I had no knowledge of;
the veins of my dreams
were blueprints and schemes
in my mother’s blood
in my father’s skin;
I scribble but cannot rewrite
the me, the I,
procedurally generated,
processed by algorithms;
and the purpose is clear
perpetuate and iterate,
move on with baby steps
not merely in time and distance,
but beyond existence
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