#allan
I couldn’t reciprocate what my heart has
been humming
— “I have been waiting for you my entire life”
For I am tired and at a discontent. Seeking solace
only from knowing that we are special and just apart,
But it catches on my throat like cotton,
And I know you’d be frightened.
As terrified as Poe to
when he trembles over the rapping,
rapping sound from the raven.
Murmuring: “darkness there and nothing more”
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 6:20 AM UTC
Watching the silver shine
From your eyes divine
We had it all seen
When we were seventeen
Those days are gone
In the days the stars shone
For I am lost in the night
Without your light
With love's debt paid
I've been there before
Throught the Raven words are said
It will be nevermore
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 4:38 AM UTC
You used to be my subject
every angle, you're the object
inspires me to do more works
and ended up with great artwork.
I can be your Edgar Allan Poe
In a midst o critical world
Could be profound
just to be my Annabelle lee
Rather be your William Shakespeare
timeless age for your soul
endless love bringeth whole
even though just a buccaneer
but ended being Arthur Conan Doyle
You see but you do not observe
The mystery of my love for you
Single glimpse from you can't resolve
Every verse was a reflection
of every inch of you
But you keep on ignoring
And only received a rejection
You prefer to be just a prose
Catatonic yet simple
In my imaginative elated world
where our story remains untold
Feb 21, 2020
Feb 21, 2020 at 12:28 PM UTC
“I have been trying to get laid
So should I try lacing up my suspenders and get my strap on,
for another fifty shades of drinking a Harlem shake to the
piece of cake fairy tale of nagging paper trail just to impress a **** pony tail
at the dark alley bakery, vending her own cookie with a tight shoulder skirt to this lions in search of an empire from a leverage point to cleavage, Torching the alley with a naked thigh just like tossing a coin into a fountain in a circus with clown with umbrella about throw some shade until when the tides go out to, you get to know who’s been swimming naked upon the pleasures that are bitter to swallow to this blood ******* roaches chasing strangers who would spread her legs to the canvas and induce seduction as a color scheme……..
She called me sadist and I called myself a dreamer,
She dreamt of pushing me off the bed and calling me a screamer
She envisioned cutting my throat and playing jazz with my vocal chords
She fantasied sarcastically caressing my cuticles just because last night I came in short of breath
Previously
She would sell her own soul to the syringe of morphine drip
for a denial shot that pain heals in the prefix of an outpatient rehab
now in the bathtub nursing in patient withdrawal ,
She would tie a shoe string around her bicep in search of vein,
so as to squeeze the **** libido version of limbo to oblivion
humiliating the dark clouds begging for a shooting star
to the pages that frustrates the pen unto the novel that prescribes a prenuptial of black bride killing the reader’s digest and buries their heads…………..so……………………
I am becoming a book.
that will induce an ****** with sympathy veil of beggar feeding on their own horses
to the end of the caterpillar misery is **** butterfly confetti to script that syncs the readers perception
Into the ****** abuses of the needle that impregnates the ink and tells the canvas to go get paternity test throughout the history of melting medusa lips
that made a homeless robin without a hood painting a revolution in this concrete jungle
where dreams are made up from silence thought that can
ambush a hive softy through whistling that melts
a bee’s temper in the presence of a queen is a poisonous sting of a artist
dipping his own brush into his own soul with a healing dew that never bruises
the honey in the vein of the garden is the beauty of the wine
From a vine to flower is a grape in the glass is anarchy
From what I am running from
To misery flowing from the river on
That’s why we are here
To profile the lost identity from the art of war that sun Tzu was afraid of losing his head to another thigh!
That’s why we are here
To profile the slit of the dress that curved the sword another napoleon to conquer Soviet Union
That’s why we are here
To profile a love Ballard from contortionist that melted medusa eyes from cold to flexible
Revolution will wear a mini skirt, squat and kiss the lepers hands for the Benjamin’s banking dump jokes...and still hire Johnnie Cochran for second ****** trial of O.J Simpson ……………
That’s why I still want …………………………….
our culture wore a fabric of circus clothes only dance in the arena like a puppet from the strings of the servants chasing a redemption in the den of thrones getting thrown to the game of throne for guilty pleasure as kings daughters were gambling upon gladiators death to the freedom of escaping their own Sobibor that chopped off my foot in the life of Kunta Kinte
Slavery was blushing teeth with a **** moan of a cigarette smoke
Flirting to the horrors of unshaved groins,
from the growing pains in the hands that planted olive trees
to labor and harvest their oil that has become tears of
cowards staining heaven with obscene imagery of their own likeness
holding their insights captive upon the eyes of the ******
Until our backs were a canvas of whips and brutality, we had tattoos
of pain and graffiti of blood as written the book blue skies
claiming the prepare the way the Lord, judging Esther from a supremacy attire of poverty
termed to be isolated from the world where the corner stone fell into the wrong hands and built a
Tower of babel for the Pharisee living in a glass house
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal to pleasure
the urges out of the Garden of Eden, Adam had to seek leaves to live with eve,
From a mustard seed renouncing the deception ought to praise the womb that gave birth to the blood sweat and tears to the system planting snares pig’s ears and fears ,
with intent to subdue the cat inside the bag from the smell of the rat that has been suffering a broken rib
We used ashes as lotion to conquer the scratching pains of the unhearing wounds eying the staff that turned into a serpent in exodus to the stiff neck of the system after the death of Moses….we had to succumb to victory,
There was a story of how soldiers got hungry
in the battlefield even they started feeding on themselves
Fighting for peace in the pieces of human meat...
upon pawns that have kept chasing the salvation of in the story that was
made by rats that fought all the dogs and killed the cats is like
Judging a fish with its own abilities to climb trees from the a shadow of small boy reflecting an elephant in the room with betrayal that made Julius have a seizure after gambling with another’s man
life with few pieces of silver sealed by a Judas kiss that killed Jesus,
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 2:27 AM UTC
In the desperate times I hear it call my name
No, not again please spare me
The horrible, haunting horrors
Like a leech, draining me leaving me with despair
Who is he or she that calls my name
I dare not say, for it haunts me
Lurking in the depths of mind, oh how awful
I could live my life forever in glee,
but when the light fades I’d rather die
Oh God please have mercy, I beg and plead
It begins to attach to me
To my mind sinking to my heart spreading to my limbs
Im hopeless, how can i get rid of this burden
Antagonizing, the pain is physical you can see it in my eyes
Listen carefully making no mistake and you can hear it in my voice
The darkness leers leaving me with tears of sadness
I wouldn't dare wish for it on any innocent soul
For let it devour me after all I must deserve it
For it is a monster that I have created and it only seeks for me
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 12:30 PM UTC
I've never been great at poetry;
The process always fails for me.
While mister Poe and Shakespeare last,
My writing ends up in the trash.
Their writing style, lost with age,
Their wisdom hid in ev'ry page,
The glory given where it's due -
These are things I cannot do.
My writing's forced; theirs doth flow.
I say it blunt; they say it slow.
Those areas that bless and move
Are places where I can't improve.
So why, with my lack of skill,
Do I keep on writing still?
With such a hopeless case as this,
You'd think I would already quit!
There was a time when I did -
My desk was shut; my pen was hid.
Then something occurred to me
Which changed it all instantly.
If Dr. Seuss had Shakespeare tried,
And Mr. Poe glorified,
And given up in dismay,
We wouldn't have his books today.
So keep on writing how you do
With that style unique to you.
Put your mind into use
(You just might be another Seuss)!
Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 10:26 PM UTC
two ladies
dressed to ****
give me a shiver
give me a thrill
they kiss each other
their mouths pink and bright
tender and cruel
a kiss then a bite
******* brush soft
vulva's get wet
hands ***** *******
drools like a pet
******* explode
spasms and creams
hands touching thighs
sizzling dreams
oh they love
all candy and ***
shadowed eyes
lips like ***
ones a slave
the other her queen
then they switch
kiss and scream
its hotter then hot
a burning **** sun
melting butter slits
a tempest of fun
doing the rumba
pretty dance feet
swaying hips
gawd its sweet
lovely behinds
moving in place
what i want always
is ***** mouth face*
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 4:39 PM UTC
There came a love of truest and fair,
In a town I came to know,
A girl my heart she did bear
With a love that filled my soul;
To her, I would give my life
Without a single doubt be told.
She sat gracefully upon a lonely bench
In this town I came to know,
I adored her more than life itself
As her beauty lit a-glow;
And her essence came from a heavenly place
As she laced her grace of snow.
Her beauty spreads across the skies,
In this town I came to know,
Spreading love about her goes,
To nurture my love and grow;
So that the abundance of my burning passion
Can murmur and run, just as the rivers flow;
And to an end my dream will come
In this town I’ve come to know.
Her raging light, blazing bright,
Lit my heart a-glow,
For its power completes the monarchy
In this town I came to know,
And binges across the galaxies, spreading love,
To and fro.
I call to her spirit beckoning songs,
For my love to her I must show,
And my passion I must show,
Before my dream is just a dream
And my soul sinks below;
She is the dream of love I dream
In this town I came to know.
She too knows of me and the love inside that grows,
In this town I’ve come to know,
The sun never settles caressing the red rose peddles,
In this town I’ve come to know,
The birds will chirp a sounding song of mirth,
To the heavens above till love gives birth
To a love packed passion as all men know
The love that was found
In the town I came to know.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
A simple gleam in the sky
Doesn’t seem to be enough light;
Especially when the darkness overcomes
This world of quickly fading love.
Why is it that they provide hellfire
Instead of holy water?
Do you believe for a second
That anything will quench the thirst
Of Satan’s sons and daughters?
A light in the blazing sky,
But it seems that the still wind
Never whispers goodbye.
Rolling tide and a blood-soaked sea,
We’re only left to reminisce
Of what used to be.
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC
I’d imagine if ever found,
He’d hang around
A ****** pub
Right smack in the middle
Of town.
Perhaps he’d nearly burn
Off his throat from
Straight tonic and
Gin or
Maybe he’d have a
Conversation with
The raven; the
Sardonic chant of
“Nevermore” echoing the
Walls as he’d drunkenly
Hit the floor.
Stifling an intoxicated
Giggle or
Two, I’d ask him
What Annabel Lee would
Do once the demons
In the sea threatened
Her love or if
The evil eye was eyeing
Him from above.
I’d ask all things, up
And down and
Why a man of
His genius still
Lingered in this sleepy
Old town.
Perhaps before I
Depart, I’ll pluck a
Feather right from his
Raven’s wing and leave
Mr. Poe to bask
In the sweet
Sound of silence
As the pendulum
Swings.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
on this october night, while i ponder on the crisp toilet seat
and feel my body shiver from the awful lack of heat,
one single **** compact and long, from my ******** falls,
and into then rank toilet water it splooshes and splashes.
on the porcelain i clench my feet and moan, it echoes through the halls,
my ******** it burns! (lo, how it burns!) as if a ***** went in full with scratches.
how i pray to God Almighty, "forgive me Lord for I have sinned",
in this ****** place i sit aroused and weary, The light is dimmed,
from the corner of my eye, my end nigh: i sigh, Lord. i sigh!
the toilet paper is gone, i cannot handle the vapor (nor my **** gaper).
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 8:36 PM UTC
Everyone has those Edgar Allan Poe moments
When they sit depressingly
Thinking of the Death
That is around the corner
And all around them
They call them pessimistic
But in truth
They are just
Simply lonely people that need to be loved
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
The moon is bright t'is night.
It shines a diff'rent light.
Do you wonder why?
Look up in the sky.
The moon is big and bright
Like how I smile tonight.
While thinking about you,
And sharing what is true --
I love you.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
Said The Raven
To The Raven
Which Raven are you?
I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
And I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Edgar Allan Poe.
Apparently there's a rave on -
Shall we go?
Yes - let us go then you and I
As the evening is spread out
Against the sky.
But not like a patient
Etherised upon a table.
Let us like Thunderbirds
Not gentle go into this dark night.
So dressed in sable
White gloves
And whistles
They went on their way -
Not looking forward
To conversations about
Michelangelo at all.
For as we all know
Old age should rave and burn
At close of day.
And not just fizzle out.
More big shout...........................................
And rave until you fall.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC