It's when in presence
My heart gallops fast horses
On these lengthy tracks,
You draw me in close
I smell the sweet aroma
Bearing on senses,
I can't feel your touch
But I know it draws so near
I pull you closely,
Nibbling your ear
Tasting your skin on my tongue,
Your body tingles I can
Feel protuberance
Forms from your heart as you push
Against my warm chest,
As our lips sow stories of
Devotion with fire,
We edge into a
Never ending spiral of
Painted encore tales
And constant passionate dreams

Eiram N 15h

I am just a no one
trying to become a someone
fighting with all my might and tiny body and iron-clad will
to soldier on and chase what sets my heart on fire
with an obsession for freedom and a hunger for every dream
that could never be formerly contained or directed into useful energy
they call “work”

They told me I was a dreamer
as if that were an insult
when the greatest men and women of all time
Albert Einstein, Shakespeare, Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi,
believers, world leaders, peace makers, game changers
had nothing but crazy ideas in their heads
The innovations and monumental changes
were first mere thoughts planted in somebody’s mind
lifted to reality because of an inner devotion to fulfill them

And I wanted to fulfill them
so, so very badly
so I did the best thing I could do with them
which is to press pen onto paper
immortalise thoughts and feelings
triumph and pain and hate and love and joy
into art, a construct

so that my emotion became physical
my words more pivotal
my tears became my ink
projected into strings of words
which became my sentences
which became my anthems
and in turn became
a new life force

So I beg you not to look upon my face
or even my person
but turn to the words
for I am much less
and the words certainly more
As they have helped me so much in the past
I hope they will now be of some help to you.

                                          By Eiram N

When you are passionate,
When you don't want it,
When you don't long for it.
When you NEED it
When the night calls your name
When you are the only person alive
When your consciousness begins to enflame
When your eyes collide with the stars
When your head spins yet focuses on one point
When your spirit is not a spirit and you are one with your body
When your arms are machines steaming and burning with glory
When you're legs are a rocketship light-speed towards the moon
When you are the ARCHANGEL you always hoped for and never appeared
When it all vanishes and you are trapped only by that NEED

When you are ONE with the adrenaline which burns your veins into infinity
When you are your own GOD
When you are thirsty tired broken yet keep going,

When your passion renders you complete.

june 22 2017

perched high above the city
she stood between the endless graves
whispering blasphemies
through dark velvet lips

basking herself in the dark undercurrent
which flowed through her
much like liquid sin would

long had she walked upon tainted earth
where no innocent foot had dared tread
shaking off the last bits
of her mortal life
those she once cared for

perhaps a simple consequence of her earthly deceptions

the cold midnight rain
silently danced its way
across her thin pale shoulders
soaking her black shroud
that hung loosely
across her ample breasts

her long raven curls glistening
like iced ebony in the sparse moonlight

as the darkness embraced her
her gaze fell upon
a weeping stone angel
with wings bent in defeat

her black lifeless eyes
took it all in
without any judgment


the sweet stench of death
permeated the air around her


the rhythmic beat of the rain
pounded against the hard ground

her bare feet
drawing from Mother Earth
and her dead soul
from Father Night

both willfully
resonating through her

licking sleek fingers
with anxious tongue
she drew her venom forth

parting hungry lips
she wore her anticipation
on fragile white skin

the very thought of warm flesh
became her deepest desire
her exquisite deadly appetite
took on an unquenchable thirst

thick grey clouds filled the black sky
and the wind played a drifting demonic symphony
that tussled its way through her dampened hair

and at that very moment

faceless night creatures gathered at her feet

vile screeches and gnashing of razor sharp teeth
gnarled fingers clutching at her ankles
the distinct odor of decay hung at her shoulders
she wore the scent
as a corpse would
its ceremonial funeral garb


somewhere between dusk and dawn
he came to her
a more than willing sacrifice
with a fierce beating heart
and piercing grey eyes

a well worn raven
with only one good eye to speak about
sat majestically upon
his right leathered shoulder

and it was then
and only then
that she became aware

he would be the only witness
to her unholy feeding

“my dark goddess
I come not with holy water
but with dagger
to recklessly drain myself”

“when closing my eyes
blood stained corpses appear before me
I then see myself
dancing with the dead”

dropping her shroud to the ground
her magnificent nakedness overtook him
she pressed her soft curves
into his firm but gentle hands

she spoke only five words

soft lips whispered against his throat
dark crimson sweetness
her tongue touching his heated skin

“for it shall be so”

one might have thought
that she seemed to be smiling
as she drew open her well skilled jaws

penetrating his skin
was excruciating
to say the least
but very pleasurable
and her mouth feasted

she tore at him
piece by piece
tasting his unspoken secrets
to further her repulsive existence

and this is where the story ends

Is there a lesson to be learned here? you ask

yes yes of course there is my dear reader I reply

“death awaits us all in the darkness
and to some of us, its silence can be deafening
but make no mistake, in the end it will come
whether it carries an invitation or not”

JAC 3d

He will build you a liquid castle,
and you'll dive into it,
because you love shiny things.
We all do.

You'll swim the moat 'till the chlorine burns your eyes
and sears your liver 'till it doesn't hurt.
Then nothing will hurt
(and hurt and hurt and hurt)
as he tells you how beautiful you are
with your flushed face and mind
(and laugh and laugh and laugh).
When his breath warms the mortar on your neck,
your castle is on fire and it wasn't even yours.
The fire is sweet (and sweet and sweet).
He'll sink soft teeth into the balustrade,
whispering your drawbridge open.
You want (and want and want)
to embrace this siege:

Crumbling walls
when you want them to.

Your crumbling castle
has kept you captive,
but you're freeing your feeling, feel your face;
your face is on fire but you're freed and falling
off the edge of even your edges,
and you'll land in the lava lining your lover,
but it heals you and he'll never know it.
You can forge your failures into ferocity here
and have him help if he's helpful,
have him leave if he leaves.
Only then will he know
you forged a castle of steel
under his archer's eye.


Haven't thrown a long piece up here in a while.

I'm the one who suffers for my art
All these words I've written
Were written in blood
I still haven't played all my cards
Just like Gaga I've got a poker face
I've got a lot of talent left to showcase
There's a fire in my eyes destined for greatness
I've got no time left for haters
The fire of my passion blazes
No more broken mirrors,
No more razors
Had too many scars
Been to way too many dark places
Seen a lot of people can't place faces
By the time I'm done everyone will know my name
Cuz I'm so stuck into this love game
I've got nothing left I need to claim
All I want is my name engraved
On a heart in everybody's heart frame.

©2017 Written By Benji James

jg 4d

Honey, please hold me one more time,
And i'll once again make the words upon our skin mix and rhyme...

Within every breath I take, I go beyond a world I've always dreamed of,
And my body radiates our passion and love, far from above...


I lie here at one o'clock
in the morning
and listen to the rain drops
as drops become
rapid then slow
as drops become
hard then at ease
rainy day blues
rapid then slow
The conversations
between me and this guy
he sends
i reply
he sends
i reply
he sends
A couple of minutes go by
Multiple thoughts and a headache
Hard on my brain
Deep breathing and relaxation
At ease
Rain day blues
The type of blues I have
on these
rainy days

The type of music that
Eases my mind
Controls my late-night thoughts
My late-night walks
Even that
Type of motion
That travels down my
Spinal cord into my
Lower abdomen
Why does it feel
So good
Even though
It is so wrong?
My rainy day blues
is complicated
yet eccentric
Maybe delicate
But this is my rainy day

that unwanted feeling that must be tamed by another human
Sal A 5d

Step out the door with leather loafers.
Fix my collar before I start the car.
Windows down, blast some K-Dot.
Meetin' someone new tonight.

I'll slam on the gas for
every breath that he took from you.
Beads of sweat trickled down your back,
as you moaned for more.

It's all good in my chest.
My heart'll be alright once I'm at the club.
It's still pumping blood with each beat.
While he's pumping in and out of you.

Drunk and dancing with a new lady.
She's cuter than you, I swear.
She even pulled me in for a kiss.
Confidence, something you never had.

I invited her over to my place.
God, her body felt so good as
I pulled her hips against mine
and she bit my lip in ecstasy.

We even went again in the morning.
Quid pro quo, just for you.
She'll be my new drug so that
I can quit you cold turkey.

As I sit by the window, a blistering wind bellows
Howling at me, howling for a reason - I question.
The statue angels in the rose garden below listen in.

I close the creaking window. I shut my book on the rose colored cushion.
My reflection leaves me, alone......

The wind blows - and the window blows, open, I did not touch - anything.

Again, I close the window, the hollowing blows the trees down, but my period on sentences for myself make me shout inside me.

The written notes with scattered arrows, the massive circle in the center with a question mark - all scattered on the cushion. And as the trees shake and children scream below me, the question marks grow bolder.

My truth?

My purpose?

My intuition?

I hear a sharp shout calling my name, which does not have handed flowers in its tone. I wake down stairs. And as I close the door the paper I drew on falls to the floor,
Where dust resides

Leaving your passion and self behind to go to do something that you do not care for
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