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The power of evil is rapturous...

...heaven here on Earth,

freedom;

finally freedom.

Animal has escaped

The Garden...
Jonathan Surname Aug 2018
If it smells dead, it probably is
Rot makes no mistakes
I sit and spin my wheels and it takes
Everything inside of me

To rid myself of her stink
Seventeen years of parental nurture
Two weeks of preying in search for;
Only six minutes of squeezing to be

Left only to be filth again
Passed over and forgotten
Are my words too heavy for your song?
Sing loudly so I can hear you

Again, my pale skinned love
As I hover above and sweat into your mouth
Quiet swan song sung, splash of **** all too loud
Calm I grow as from you, I take my cue

Does my breath not fog glass as much as yours?
If I crawl away now, I won't appear to move.
Silently shaking and praying in search for
Something less living, something less grand

Bedside stories told to you once at night
A lone little light plugged in low by your closet
You feared the wrong monsters, and I felt that fright
It clung to the air; you were my first as by my hand.

But my hand pulls away now--
My fingers hardwired, pulling, reaching
For something warm to touch
And you were warm once, too
"Many Conversations at Once" series
collaborative poem, stanza trading

HERS
MINE
HERS
MINE
HERS
MINE
HERS
Jean May 2018
Sokoro and Nuru: the unwanted twins
under the marula trees, the cub and the calf - they play
Sokoro - no claws; Nuru's not tall
and everyone can only seem to discuss their flaws
Together they escape; together they replace
the memories which they wish they could erase

Sokoro and Nuru: the unwanted twins
under the marula trees, the cub and the calf - they play
'Sokoro! Do not play with a giraffe! You are a lion!' a mother growls
'Nuru! Do not play with a lion! You are a giraffe!" a mother scowls
The two playmates dragged from each other
The two playmates wishing to fight their own mother
but Nuru's mother is too strong and Nuru is not tall
but Sokoro's mother is strong and Sokoro has no claws

Sokoro and Nuru: the unwanted twins
under the marula trees, the cub and the calf- they once used to be
Sokoro and Nuru: for how they have grown!
They have started to repeat what they have been shown
Sokoro with claws and Nuru with height
where they once used to play now they fight

Sokoro and Nuru: the unwanted twins
under the marula trees, the cub and the calf- they once used to be
Sokoro prowls and hides in the grasses
the lion waits for what does stand as is
Nuru- now tall- eats the leaves from the marula trees
nothing yet spotted to put it out of ease

Sokoro and Nuru: the unwanted twins
under the marula trees, the cub and the calf- they once used to be
Sokoro and Nuru, now predator and prey
under the marula trees, where they once used to play
they were once told: 'This is how it is meant to be'
and now neither of them will ever be free

Sokoro and Nuru: the unwanted twins
under the marula trees, where no one will ever win
This poem was inspired by the Kenyan wood carvings of a giraffe and lion that sit on my desk. I named the giraffe Nuru, which means 'light' in Swahili, and the lion Sokoro, a Kenyan name that means 'the lucky one'.
CLARYT May 2018
Upon first setting eyes on him,
she thought she'd found her mate,
his skin was white as driven snow,
with eyes as grey as slate,
his musky scent reminded her,
of funeral homes and coffins,
his icy touch sent shivers down her spine,
it was arousing,

Seduction followed shortly after dinner,
on this night,
he hovered over her sweet *******,
and killed the candlelight,
she felt his mouth caress her neck,
it bore a strange effect,
a tingle, then she felt a pop,
she felt he was *****,

A trickled stream of blood was licked,
away from her sweet breast,
a shock sent through her, climaxing,
before he let her rest,
she was entranced by his dark glare,
******* for her master,
a dreamlike state was all she felt,
time seemed to pass much faster,

He took her body countless times,
before he took her soul,
she groaned for him, he claimed her life,
while he held all control,
another ****** plucked away so savagely from life,
a predator eternal, hunts at night for a new wife.......
jjjust another horror practice,
Miss Me May 2018
I absolutely know there is something
hiding within me
It lays low in my soul which keeps my spirit at bay
Oh how i keep aching for a different way of life
Yet i cant get loose from its choke hold
On my heart
I could see death in the reflection of myself this morning
And yet still I cant put the
glass down
that keeps that part of me hidden
I plead for it to show itself
So that maybe , just maybe i can get beyond it
I am resisting the urge to rid myself from the creature that refuses to come forward
What a coward it must be for it is not I but IT that preyed upon me
What lays ahead I never know
but hope somehow
It beheads you
YOU COWARD
Please know me
PoserPersona Apr 2018
Do you hear that calm, frugal breeze?
The synced patter cadence off the road?
What was once a hunt for your feast
In a time not so long ago

Over the distant horizon,
the rhythm takes your morning run
Within sight is a lonesome deer
Within scent is a stillborne fear

Exalted whispers of the ancestors:
"Exhaust it to death, predators."
Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
He has a degree in bait and switch
He’s a devious, deceitful sumbitch;
He’s a human hound dog,
A trash talking fat hog,
Ready with a phony smile
And he has been for a while.

Happily taking britches off of *******
If she’s not too fussy with her *****;
Because by gum and dagnab.
That’s the first thing he’ll grab.
As crazy as a lifelong ******
He thinks a nice guy is a loser.

He reverses what he says each day
And if you catch him he’ll always say
He blames it on Obama and Jews,
On Democrats and fake news.
He changes his mind on a whim
Thinks nobody is as good as him.

We need to mention how ugly he got.
His appearance seems to be all rot.
He’s made of pure grease
That keeps him so obese
Still he claims he is as trim
As guys half the size of him.

He got started by his daddy’s dough
Back a flashy half century or so
He has very little taste
Most of his life was a waste.
Every business he touches
Ends up walking on crutches.

Why is his image with so secure?
He’s not a decent man for **** sure.
An adulterer and a predator
Treats his wives like competitors
Who are blocking his limelight
And should be hidden from sight.
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2018
Quivering, afraid of the pain,
A stalking predator ready to tear me apart,
I cannot control my emotional beasts,
They continue to claw their way through my heart
Sometimes i feel like my crazy feelings are tangible living creatures. I know that sounds nutty but in a metaphorical sense. I am hunted by fear and frustration.
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