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Nat Lipstadt Jul 12
~for Woody’s pilgrimage, his exodus to Egypt~


I’m the mother of your maidenhead.
I’m the widow engorged in Ganges flames,
seeded, raised, in the coal pit born we were,
first mined, sent cross country by red rusted freight
car to the birth sac where we came~conceived.

simple, your beginning, is our end, they could
not never cut this cord tween us with an instrument
of hardened steel, cause it was god-birthed in a
steel furnace in the three river city, where we were
molten formed, fired woman, fired man, too-blackened.

you say come worship me, but I cannot, we are too
samed; the flesh of metal, the black blood of a mountain
seam, if we were to worship in our own imagery,
a sin, of ten commandment status, not a trifling,
imagine, a golden calf, an idol of our own making,
what glorious fury’d consequential if I bent knee to
love an undulating woman, a violation of volition,
between us, there can be never, the tangential of free will.


11:18pm Sat Jul 11
annh Jun 24
Stick girl embering,
Lollipop meandering,
Molten toffee trail.

'We discovered that one of the strongest links among us was questions about the morality
of what we do: when do
you press the shutter release
and when do you cease
being a photographer?'
- Greg Marinovich, The Bang-Bang Club: Snapshots from a Hidden War
wren Apr 2019
what cross do you bear?
whisper to me the pains you've repressed,
the regrets that consume you,
divulge to me your darkest sins,
and lend utterance to your woes.

how do you build the ark,
that exists in your mind?
rocking in the arms,
of the slow, swinging seas,
whilst quixotic dreamers,
dance across the sky,
lost in the clouds.

solace in tears,
premonitions in fears,
let me cradle your soul,
and mend,
piece by piece,
plastered poultices,
and golden lacquer scars,
sealing all that ran deep.
let me shoulder your burdens,
so that one day, you may learn
and live alongside them.

so long as molten rock,
anoints our heads,
and flickering flame,
sears our feet,
we shall traverse
the crucible that is life.

each bearing a cross,
and a crown of thorns,
we are beautifully broken,
the faceted protagonists
of faded film noir.

we will prevail.
“No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne; no gall, no glory; no cross, no crown.” -William Penn

angst, ik lol, but i just wanted all of you to know that i'm here for all of you. not sure how much i can do for you but i'll certainly try! thank you for stopping by.
Nikos Kyriazis Oct 2018
Scented by amorous
reflections of the past

I do not dare
to go closer

Often i repent
about keeping it still

A bearer of dreary hues
that imprisons the now
and drains its mirth

The sojourn of that drape
is coming to an end.....

There will be a time
that we'll stand above and laugh
for the molten strands of the past
Changes and grows and bores -
The seasons, as fall does spring,
Wishing for adventure and fun
When life is repetitive boring,
Wishing for dull and familiar
When life is fast unpredictable,
Discontent with the old taken
New is wished for, thus craving
This will be the human heart -
Always wanting, always depart
Of contentment, and always it
Finds change and changing, yet
Stills for a time enough to rest
Makes way for the new but does
Forget not the old and rusted,
It finds, it claims, it renews, and
It outgrows, rots, buries for new,
This will be its gifted curse living
Until its last very beat breathing
Fickle, want, and sentimental,
Human hearts as molten metal
As forever shifting unto death
Accursed gift of everlasting unrest.
Danielle Apr 2018
Oh, Darling.
You can’t fix yourself by breaking someone else.
No, perhaps I can’t Love,
But when the heat rises up in me.
Making my skin glow,
Lining the holes in me with molten gold,
Perhaps I can burn them down.
Raze their structured beliefs
Until there’s nothing but choking thick ash.
If something survives it is beautiful.
If something new grows in that new fertile ground
Then it is precious.
When that destructive rage just makes you want to burn down bridges in the most spectacular way.
Liam Hunter Sep 2017
I want to kiss you
Under a streetlamp at midnight
And suffocate in
Your molten breath.

— The End —