Ken Rafiñan Mar 3
The presence of anti-depressants
depresses me,
suppresses you,
and oppresses we.

the he who always takes advantage of the
the she who always turns a blind eye to the

The nighttime play;
their love up and away,

Flying to the moon—

Master and slave:
hands turning the clock of mood swings,
“How does hate taste so holy?”
timmyxholiday Feb 13
and he put the last stroke to the canvas
a tear fell
his wife called forth the family
now mostly unknown to him and generations younger than this,
his masterpiece

it was finally finished
so many of his friends had passed on to wherever they believed
and now so could he too
and so he called him
'It's finished' he said
'I will make the arrangements' responded the voice
and then the master smiled and left.

and in the great hall in the main room it hung
freed from the decades of it's creation
and people would walk by and say
'oh my god,'
'what type of wood is that frame made out of?'
'I don't know,' they would say, 'but it looks cheap.'
and they would move on to the next masterpiece
nobody cares
Seema Feb 10
I am my masters slave
Surrounded by fields and shallow caves
I stand here looking upon the mighty corn field
My mouth is stuffed with grass thread sealed

I am my masters slave
When gust winds blow my hand starts to wave
Standing strong I show am brave
I love this job that he gave

I am my masters slave
Rain, storm, heat leaves me withered
But with my husky style am not bothered
I stand here without any complain

I am my masters slave
Day goes by with scaring crows
Night passes staring at the field rows
With my masters hat on, I surely give a sexy pose

I am my masters slave
My head strapped on tight with rope
My hands and legs dangle on the pole
I don't have feelings neither am a living soul

I am my masters slave
Serving with all my will and might
An unpaid job but with a title given as scar knight
I am happy to live in my masters sight

I am my masters slave
I will always serve my masters orders
In all good and grieving times with my other hordes
All knitted and standing some at the borders

My master is my friend
I shall serve him faithfully till the end
Until my master finally rests in his grave
Till then, I am my masters slave

Fictional write. Spilling imagination.
Raziel Feb 5
We are both masters of our trade,
I draw you in, a dance of twin blades,
But beware, I will turn brother on brother,
And from the path of loyalty you shall wander..
Daytra Jan 20
Oceans of waves
of pleasure wash over me as
my body shakes with spasm
after spasm of orgasm
Finally I can relax
as I take command,
I only need to obey
Not think, just obey
Listening to my sweet,
oh so sweet moans
Like the whimpers of an angel
my throat becomes dry
I'm exposed
open but I trust you fully
It feels so good,
like pure sweet ecstasy
My whole body
just wants to fall into
tiny pieces
Right in the dead of a very cold winter
When the tired slave's soul is ash gray
And the cotton plantation becomes whiter ,
Begins a poor slave's hard working day .

In Winter when the master makes a call
This was every slave's worse nightmare
It was time for his hard whips to fall
insurmountable pains he couldn't bare .

Snowballs are piled outside like cotton
His Wounds hurts but as usual he's told
Stay strong brother Kunta, just hold on
Just Stay calm till the barn is closed .

This is the mid of a cold bitter winter
And the crow of a cock heralds a sad day
A slave's prayer to God was a sad whisper
He needed strength to get pass this day.

follow me on twitter@ivanclappers
The soul is not freed when the body is in captivity..
DivineDao3 Dec 2017
Thy art is immortal. Your inspiration unsurpassable. The beauty of human emotions captured flawlessly. Dreams better than reality.

Love, blessings and gratitude. I have a high degree of respect for you and your masterful artistic mind, heart, body & soul.

Thy fan & adoree
Thank You Myriad Times Dear Sir  and Thanks to your Gifted Socreators For Your Divine Contribution To The World
I am a beautiful creature in the picture
a master of my own disguise
If you'll see who I really am, you'll be running to mountain Heiss
A damn princess in the light
But prowling every night for a prey lurking in the dark.
You are the one in my sight
You should run for your life.
I am turning to a monster
Right before your eyes
A merciless killer, this is what I've become.
My fangs and claws are hidden
I'll come to you when you least expected
And I strike.
This is what I've become since the rainy night.
This is inspired from a song, I also wrote this recalling what I have become after people i loved hurt me.
I met a stranger in the bus..a man in the black suit..and I seemed to know him since ages..took the same route as mine..
Ours was a unique acquaintance, it was of smiles and stares, words hardly spared..

But today, today was different..he, with a diminished smile, seemed like he had a taxing day to his eyes, he had the world locked like the pandora..
To open it was calamity, and to keep it all in was fatality.. but he was brave, went on burning his soul in the fire of the heist..
I always wanted to ask him about his pursuit, but I was scared of the explosion, he might endure his own Big Bang..

This stranger in the bus, the man in the black suit, who I seemed to know since ages now, was unordinarily restless today. And I couldn’t guess why..
Flicking his fingers, frantic, hasty and teary eyes, who was once my persona for strength, he left me drowning into the depths of my thoughts..
Oh how could I have even resisted, I was falling short of smiles..
Deciding to trade a word today, this harmless stranger extends a clumpsy mind, just like mine.. the troubles were little too wild, and I was compelled to listen..
They said talking helped, but we shared more smiles, words lesser spared..remember ?
The lump in his throat did most of the work.. While I got lost in his unshared troubles, i learnt something tonight..

Melting cold nights and rumbling leaves at the height. The swaying trees and the smooth slow breeze..These are the flaws of nature that are meant to make us feel right. But the evil, vicious ones, loneliness and anxiety, are our unborn progenies, and we nurture them with will and pride..they tell us of our existence, of the blood and flesh and the emotions running through our veins.. they make us pop and bleed, through our ears and eyes.. like the dictators back in time.. they eat through us, mummify us for the rest of our lives..
And this stranger in the bus, the man in the black suit..
I finally sense him.. He held my hand, asked me one simple question.
Why do we weep when we lose control ? Why are there storms and tempests inside our tiny hearts? Why do we feel wounded by the god damn loneliness that we create with our own flesh and blood, our own nurturing ? Why are we possessive about this poison that is freezing our blood, one cell at a time..? Yes, anxiety.. why do we let it turn us blue, kill us ?

I could only wonder, how smoothly he filled all the blanks. The blanks inside my gut. The blanks inside my head, the questions that he slapped in my face left red marks, but the ringing in my ears gave me the answer..

How easily could I let this venom out of my nose, with each exhale, I could sense the fumes of the blue escaping, leaving me with the spectrum of all colours but the one..

I see this stranger in the black suit everyday now. Everyday, In my bed, embracing me into sound sleep, in the mirror telling me that I was the prettiest of all, in my thoughts, in my walks, talks and mindful tirades.
The stranger now is a part of me, he camps inside me.. he replaced my poisons and demons..
And now we look out the window together, and smile more often.. the storms seem sorted now and bitchy anxiety sits beside me, not inside me..
Samruddhi Dec 2017
And the moment felt so right
When he was holding on to her so tight
He could feel her heart racing faster and faster
And he knew that he was her only master
Knowing so he loosened his grip
And alas! That was the very moment she tripped
Roaming all around so damn free
She was like a bird, not settling for a tree
He came around and saw there was a flaw
That the bird now was going towards the Hunter's claw
He whistled and whistled and called her back
She had returned slowly but something still lacked
No longer did she desire to be held by him close
For her the danger and risks were her familiar dose!
Hoping that she could just stay longer
She knew even her master was no stronger
But that was their fate
And they had to accept it before it was late
For her wings were at stack
And the master simply couldn't hold her back
He had to let her go
Because she was meant to be in that flow
He set her free and let her flew up and above
Because he never had a cage for her..but simply tender love
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