#otherwordly - Hello Poetry

One hari, and his Reyna Riding the chariot of The otherworldly; ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

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Jan 25, 2016

Jan 25, 2016 at 7:34 PM UTC

brandon-nagley

Otherwordly cruise

One hari, and his Reyna Riding the chariot of The otherworldly; ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

6

Cold rain falls Patters on my head I look to the sky My eyes turn red Flickering pupils Dilated so wide I tear off my shirt Embracing skies tide I open my mouth To catch some raindrops Tasteless liquids Nothing makes the pain stop Collected water boils inside My mouth once dry It's now a simmering *** The demons inside me Make everything hot Deep inhalation of fresh air I understand why I'm here now I'm no longer scared Steam streams out of my body My hands are on fire, my lips tingle I look to my left, a lamppost glows I turn to my right I see people mingle Outside a late night cafe, their life simple A bus stop ahead with two people there A man and woman, he touches her hair I place the palm of my hand on the lampost Just to lean and wonder how I'm here The shade bursts and sparks fly The woman at the bus stop screams "Nooo I don't want to dieeee" As the fluorescent lights fizzle and pop The man she's with falls to his knees Grasps his head "no please make it stop" The small group of people freeze Outside the cafe they violently fit I don't know what's happening I assume it is me doing this I try to let go of the lamppost beside me Pulling my arm with the other hand I finally break free I too now fall to my knees Getting up is hard My joints creek With mechanical movements I go over to see The couple at the bus stop The girl lays on the floor now I shake her but she is surely dead Her eyeballs have melted to red goo The man still firmly grasping his head Looking at him I don't know what to do He chants repeatedly in words unheard The people outside the restaurant They're all still fitting People are with them now from inside I step backwards in to the bus shelter Fear surges through me again My conscious spirals a helter-skelter Trying to hide from the people outside Hearing sirens now my eyes dilated wide I'm clueless as to what has happened Panicking I run past the lamppost Glancing at it as I pass A dark black hand print is melted in

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Sep 16, 2016

Sep 16, 2016 at 11:07 AM UTC

finley-pietersen

A Man Possessed

Cold rain falls Patters on my head I look to the sky My eyes turn red Flickering pupils Dilated so wide I tear off my shirt Embracing skies tide I open my mouth To catch some raindrops Tasteless liquids Nothing makes the pain stop Collected water boils inside My mouth once dry It's now a simmering *** The demons inside me Make everything hot Deep inhalation of fresh air I understand why I'm here now I'm no longer scared Steam streams out of my body My hands are on fire, my lips tingle I look to my left, a lamppost glows I turn to my right I see people mingle Outside a late night cafe, their life simple A bus stop ahead with two people there A man and woman, he touches her hair I place the palm of my hand on the lampost Just to lean and wonder how I'm here The shade bursts and sparks fly The woman at the bus stop screams "Nooo I don't want to dieeee" As the fluorescent lights fizzle and pop The man she's with falls to his knees Grasps his head "no please make it stop" The small group of people freeze Outside the cafe they violently fit I don't know what's happening I assume it is me doing this I try to let go of the lamppost beside me Pulling my arm with the other hand I finally break free I too now fall to my knees Getting up is hard My joints creek With mechanical movements I go over to see The couple at the bus stop The girl lays on the floor now I shake her but she is surely dead Her eyeballs have melted to red goo The man still firmly grasping his head Looking at him I don't know what to do He chants repeatedly in words unheard The people outside the restaurant They're all still fitting People are with them now from inside I step backwards in to the bus shelter Fear surges through me again My conscious spirals a helter-skelter Trying to hide from the people outside Hearing sirens now my eyes dilated wide I'm clueless as to what has happened Panicking I run past the lamppost Glancing at it as I pass A dark black hand print is melted in

66

tw: body horror my knees weep, their purple hue give way to spilt prayers and they taint, and corrode, and they don’t stop among all that is good and all that is pure my hands dig through black ash, dried earth, cracked stone, only then, decomposition, am i certain, i know what the maggots know, and nothing else. my head unravels. question after question. the left eye reads scriptures, tears through testaments, books, and golden halos. but the right eye sees burning light, then just darkness, then nothingness, then the emptiness of all that nothingness my chest is a flower, sores and bandages pulled into the shape of petals. this is the birth of something new and the death of billions shards of stained-glass crawl to me. in all their light and glory. when they find their way inside, i will give them flesh. deep into the earth, i pray. but all i find is a body, my body, a cruel replica. i pull the glass from my wounds and pierce its eyes. I pull it out. It seems sharper and larger, the more it touches flesh. so I use it again. written in to every corner, my findings, the days that have passed, my hopes, my doubts. this god knows suffering. if not one body, will another be enough? i have prepared my sacrifice. i close my eye. light seems to pull itself, from under the ground. even i can see it peek through my fading consciousness. but as it comes to darkness, all that i hear, is a whisper of my name.

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Dec 7, 2024

Dec 7, 2024 at 11:19 PM UTC

ikarus

god is beneath us

tw: body horror my knees weep, their purple hue give way to spilt prayers and they taint, and corrode, and they don’t stop among all that is good and all that is pure my hands dig through black ash, dried earth, cracked stone, only then, decomposition, am i certain, i know what the maggots know, and nothing else. my head unravels. question after question. the left eye reads scriptures, tears through testaments, books, and golden halos. but the right eye sees burning light, then just darkness, then nothingness, then the emptiness of all that nothingness my chest is a flower, sores and bandages pulled into the shape of petals. this is the birth of something new and the death of billions shards of stained-glass crawl to me. in all their light and glory. when they find their way inside, i will give them flesh. deep into the earth, i pray. but all i find is a body, my body, a cruel replica. i pull the glass from my wounds and pierce its eyes. I pull it out. It seems sharper and larger, the more it touches flesh. so I use it again. written in to every corner, my findings, the days that have passed, my hopes, my doubts. this god knows suffering. if not one body, will another be enough? i have prepared my sacrifice. i close my eye. light seems to pull itself, from under the ground. even i can see it peek through my fading consciousness. but as it comes to darkness, all that i hear, is a whisper of my name.

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