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Cunning Linguist Apr 2017
S
  p
   i
  r
a
l
   i
   n
g

   d
    o
   w
      n
-
[an
infinite
abyss]
-
A temporal anomaly
peaking your drift
Perusing the cosmos,
within Dude's rocketship

Quarantined as a species
from contact with the Gods-
Odds are they're too busy banging
new milky ways into the stars
While you're pensive, quantum-plating
the nature of existence
Prayers fall unto deaf ears
too apathetic to listen

Godspeed towards the rift,
Time bends at the edge of a black hole
-But only the tip

My seeds melt into the motherverse
So I get down on it,
Cunning Linguist eats his words
Oedipus'd be jealous,
In slow motion
Impregnates spacetime itself;
With a big bang fellatious 
 
Thus, the holy seed of life
Was ****** into the void~~~
Perpetuating strife
Into the *****, of beyond

Its not a paradox if you simply process
0 and 1 at once
1 can go into 0
as many times as it wants

8====D~~(Y)

Preach level = Jim Jones
just the punchline's too long
Your golden idol,
Holy ****,
Bless this nut that I bust
I'll stretch my luck
To the sum of existence
Until it comes full circle

Voracious, bodaciously
Spatial in stasis
Without patience
Inseminating your eyeholes
Through lines of text

Transcendental
Entangled in a
  Δ,
With a devil & angel
Dimensions oughta coalesce
At just the right angle

Y'all haven't the wherewithal
To feel my *****
Slap-happy against one's skull
Put the rock in the hard place
Neanderthal
Meander tall, in the wave of thought,
The photons in your DNA are all but shot

I will abduct your subconscious
To probe through your thoughts
* testing Testing *
are you turned on?
Feel your genitals tingling ~~
I'm simultaneously dichotomic
Jerxin off my dingaling
playing your heartstrings like a harp

Allow me to go deeper
& penetrate your very reason for being.
Is the life that you're seeing
-Just the information eyes are receiving
-Only what your mind is perceiving
-Abstract thought is just too deceiving no
Can you even conceive it?

Why bother

Wanna switch positions
so you can see
where I'm coming from?
Go ahead and tell me,
are the heavens not
what you've dreamt of

A smoldering ember
in a once burning sky
Life of a former divine,
Masquerading as an angel of light
A furnace see:
 **nihl
Tethered,
To the nethers
On the outskirts of the universe
vircapio gale Aug 2012
boasting of the god of love's attentions,
this magicweaver lures her prey--
conjures forth her whim
seeking quench of fickle thirst within
attempting avenues of guile
numerously failed, and baits another heart
to suit her object's mate,
whose favors hail from Shiva
unto dominion everywhere,
  except at forest hut where Rama--
with Sita --honeymoons in exile
having snapped the cosmic dancer's massive bow
to win her for his wife, yet bound
by family word to wilderness
  in elder-shade of mystic eagle
guarded by their builder,
brother Lakshmana, in whose absence Kamavalli comes
to woo the godlike archer for her own.

little bells on anklets ring--
from creeper snagged
as if in venery yearning,
urgent vines would find their way to rest on skin
and squeeze in verdant rooting underform
prancing by, playfully demure
to enter subdued greenery
of Panchvati's gated yard
to catch the stoic Rama's eye
in invitation flashing for his gaze:
a sculptured form of flawless grace
nubile teeth shining from the forest dark,
a smile unassuming of callipygean sway
beneath the flitting lashes of her iris' swell

baffled there he stirs to praise her openly
as perfect--
despite his inner-goddess-for-a-wife he keeps inside--
with tripping words
welcomes and blesses this new girl,
exalting her with blushing queries,
sylvan surging rush to know
interrogate her mystery,
rapt in wide-eyed wonder verging beatific breath--
but learning of her lineage...
begins to plot their deaths.

banter light,
flirtations with a hidden, cosmic weight to pun against,
his praise asserts its hold
pretending bachelorhood;
his kindly, transauthentic voice resists
and in a sympathetic, skillful tone, promulgates
a drama to entice her eager mind--
ironic fancies of domestic bliss
flow from Rama, subtle jests
become her plight obsessing
into darkness embered with her lust
to truly claim him as her love,
her grandiosity defused in simple
entertainment quipping of their castes
and then with sudden burst entranced in luminescent rays of stunning rustic glow
from cottage comes his wife to claim her presence known.

the blow is dealt: Manmatha lays Kamavalli's fate: to self-disintegrate

jealousy to deafen gods, in cave retreat
to nurse her spite, surrounded in a dance
of serpent flails to sate her woe,
and only feed in ouroboros knotslip pulse
a lump-filled throat of gulping incite forward zest salacious
pungent flare of earth identity of fang and blood
the cry to shudder down a wolfine howl
in blast of animal, from screaming womanhood
the swoon precipitate-- vast height, abysmal fall
on being spurned by one who led her on
into delusion wrapped in sham an alter self
she met in bed a thousand cravings razing sanity
into a hate for moon, for elements themselves,
railing at Manmatha's haze infernal globe within and out
projecting Rama's face transfixing her inept
in wracking convulse whine of every cell,
her being sweating out imagined arms,
palms of his to cup her, lift from hellish pit of stifled longing never known 'til volcanically regrown--
in new love's throws an innocence of honest
selfhood found in him, bizarrely enemied in Lila's
killing spree of ego-dolls of lotus costume tracing all
searching through his fresh phantasm for her quelling salve
his diamond ******* targets for her soul
his broadness engirthing her to moan until her last in ecstasy
unknown asura-brew untold invented only now forever lost,
the moment fondled vastly gone,
his chest but gossamer instead of flesh
the emerald shoulder glimmer fake
the boundless confidence exuded in his
tender skin's encapsulated sinew strength
merely thought on causing pelvic quake
repeating there an apparition for her nearly endless letting out
he comes for her a demon double of her making
demi-god creator-demon vision for her writhing,
abandoned to the ambrosia torment he provides
wailing at the cavern sky her prison boudoir den
enscaled with slither pile coat of snakes, masturbatory wake of swooning still again

through to dawn..
in which psychotic break decides:
Soorpanaka births herself anew--
possession of her goal, or suicide.
the dewy spectra shines reflection of the choice;
rave committal forms its mould--
exhaustion hatches colorspray of plots,
braving mutilation to abduct,
lies and bribes surmounting each before
in ****** propositions to her ever widened bed,
else demonic armies loosed,
infatuate Ravana's heart
with illusory snare of golden Sita's rumored wares
to get her man alone and hew derision
with her desperate charm, by cantrip or war
spawned from deeper lairs of a broken,
fallacious heart, toward matrimony
or destruction bent













.
Fred Kinard Jul 2014
Expectation And Submission:

The kool-aid sat on the table for two days.
I was forced to take a sip.
My will to live was driven out by fear.
I allowed true masters to abduct me.
Modern day oppression welcome us all.
Not one line will divide or add color.
Perception is ugly like horseshoe *****.
Bluebird Dec 2014
i will make a potion,
and put it in your drink,
you will loose your motion,
you will stop to think!

i will take you home,
and put you on my shelf,
i have to do it all alone,
cuz santas elfs won't help!

i tried to talk to you
but you didn't want me there
now i have to nacrotize you
to get you to care!

i asked santa for you
but he didn't seem to care
i wass good all year too,
but that got me nowhere!

now i'll put you to sleep,
in a blink of an eye,
you'll be mine to keep,
for the end of the time!

so let's celebrate tonight,
for the best year yet to be,
as you sleep in decorative lights,
marry christmas to me!
Joshua Haines Apr 2015
Green, stringbean bodies.
  Neon skin, the color of
a lime being crushed
  underneath a heel.

Tell me about earth,
  I could hear the voice
in my head. Like a
  radio being crumbled
up into a ball and
  thrown into my
train of thought.

Earth?

Yes, Earth. Tell us about it.

Us?

There are forty-million listening.

Oh. Well, Earth. Earth. Earthy-Earth.
  Earth is full of humans, like me.
People. Humans are people.
  And people are hell.
In No Exit, there are these--

We've read No Exit.

You've read No Exit?

We've read everything humanity
has published, in a matter of
  m o m e n t s.
You aren't as developed as you
seem to think you are.

What was the best thing you read?

We were partial to
Last Exit to Brooklyn.
Now, back to our question:
tell us about Earth.

If you've already read everything,
why do you need to ask,
let alone ask me?

You are the most
insignificant person
on this planet.
We are interested
in your thoughts.

I'm insignificant?

Yes.

Oh. I see.
Earth... Well, people...
People are beautiful.
The Earth is beautiful.
What makes us gorgeous
is our growth and our
desire to progress.
What makes us dazzling
is our belief that
a collective happiness and
an individual happiness
is both attainable
and sustainable.
Now, **** me
and annihilate
my planet, already.
That's why you're here,
right?

No. We're here to
harvest your women
and to colonize
everyone else.
You just persuaded us
to breed with your women.

But, that's ****.
And colonizing?
That's slavery.

We've read everything
your planet has ever written.
**** and slavery has been
encouraged on your planet
since your brief breath of
e x i s t e n c e.
Rose Alley Apr 2012
Homicide bomber through trial and error
The epitaph moniker scours my name
A sacredot comes to abduct unseen felonies
But you and I will never ever be the same

We neglect the olive branch
We are poles apart

Catacomb undercroft, catacomb deposit box
The cabinet mourns for me
My stigma is lost

Big chill runs through our vertebrae
It can surely be precise
Don't contemplate but ruminate
Extinction will suffice

We respect the villain
We lock horns

Catacomb undercroft
Catacomb deposit box
The cabinet mourns for me
Our stigma is lost

Diuturnal explication
Evanescent predicament
Fabricated blade incision
It cannot be over yet
Diuturnal - explication
Evanescent - predicament
Fabricatedbladeincision
It cannot be over yet

Homicide bomber - trial and error
Epitaph moniker scours my name
Sacredot comes to abduct unseen felonies
You and I will never ever be the same

We neglect the olive branch
**We are poles apart
Noname Oct 2013
Marry me.
One day.
Keep me .
Captive.
No one else.
Can abduct me like you.
You embrace my faults.
You love my corks.
What is it like?
Too be loved this much?
When your inside
Can you feel it?
The longing for everything
All of you
Forever?
Are you scared?
I am.......
But its the type of horror that keeps you at the edge of your seat.
When your heart keeps beating at a rapid pace
And your palms stay moist
No matter how many times you wipe them
But you dont care because you'd rather have swetty palms
Than no one to hold at all
God its the fire that burns
behind your eyelids
Scorching hot
Just one look
Its the effortless
conversations that last until dusk
Until you both are slowly dozing off only too dream about  eachother
So scary
That one moment
Your worried all this stuf just a bunch of *******
But then someone comes and changes everything
You don't care about those meaningless things that  once seemed so important to you
They seem so tiny and insegnificant
Your the only thing I want to care about anymore...
Nina napa Feb 2018
Noong  bata pa ako
Gustung-gusto ko kapag malamig
Iyong tipong hindi ko na kailangan ng electric fan
At hindi rin ako pinagpapawisan
Pero noon 'yon
Nang wala pa akong ibang depenisyon ng lamig
Nang hindi ko pa alam kung ano ba ang pakiramdam kapag may nanlalamig
Akala ko kasi dati ang taong malamig lang ay iyong patay
Akala ko kasi dati ang lamig ay dulot lang ng malakas na hangin, paparating na bagyo o kaya ng amihan
Akala ko kasi dati hindi darating sa punto kung saan unti-unti ka nang magpapaalam
Unti-unti mo na ako iiwan
unti - unti mo na akong kinalimutan
bakit? bakit kung kelan na magiging pamilya na tayo
bakit kung kelan maroon ng laman ang sinapupunan ko
bakit kung kelan may tatawag na sayong "ama ko"
bakit mo kami binitawan at pinabayaan ng anak mo

Malamig
Hindi dahil sa amihan o sa kung ako pa man
Maayos ang panahon ngunit bakit ganoon
Dati naman kapag malamig ay kuntento ang tulog ko
Ngunit simula ng manlamig ka
Nakakatulog ako matapos ang pagbuhos ng mainit na likidong nanggagaling sa mga mata
Simula nang manlamig ka hindi ko na alam kung ano ba ang kaibahan mo sa yelo
Simula nang manlamig ka hindi ko na alam ang gagawin ko
Hindi ako sanay ng ganito
Sanay ako sa mainit **** yakap
Sanay ako sa mainit **** pagtanggap
Pero sa lamig ng iyong tono'y naninibago ako
Bakit ka nagbago?
Ikaw pa ba iyan?
O ang katauhan mo'y in-abduct na ng mga yelo
Pero hindi ko matanggap
Na sa pagbitaw mo sa aking mga yakap
Sa hindi mo pagpaparamdam
Sa hindi mo pagpansin
May iba akong nalaman
Kaya pala
Kapag pala nanlamig na
May nagpapainit na palang iba
Its a spoken poetry that I wrote and about an early pregnancy
Md HUDA Jan 2013
Hey flossy! Don’t offer this smile anymore
Mysterious smile torments the heart
That smile raises up the thirst.
If you agree to surrender all your mysterious smiles to me  
In return I will return your love with the usury of love
And with time’s compound interest rate.

If you turn down to surrender your smile
Then know the consequences of it,
Taking incalculable stars as my co – operator
I will abduct the  celestial curve moon on the land.

Hey belle! Don’t turn your face away
Tell me,
You will be the reason of how many wars,
And the cause of scrimmage amongst the juveniles?

If you don’t pay attention to me today
Then know it, You spectacular lady,
In the theater of mysterious smile
I prosecute for the execution
Of your heart snatching smile….
Owen Phillips Jan 2011
I scribble on
With a half lobotomy;
A radar seeking Hell by looking up
And another dictionary
From another time and place;
An alternate timeline
Reaching right and left
As well as fore and aft;
The beard of a ******
And naïveté too;
Undiscovered depths of emotional manipulation
Unseeing, unthinking,
A new old structural familiarity
To abduct and probe
The time-honored, vacuum-sealed
Ineptitude of ideology
Whose meat is sweet
But suits the skeletons of standardized educational theories
Like a pair of jeans at age eleven that you expect to grow into;
In hope of justifying
Overuse of monetary resource
For the sake of bonus states of mind;
Scouring the depths of discarded everything
With hooks catching on to all the similarly forgotten names
Who live in fear of obscurity
Clinging, not unlike insects
To their sixteenth minute of fame;
Finding in myself no way but out
To understand that which lives inside;
With disregard for any thread which weaves past me and takes no hold,
And loathing for the ones that do but unravel before the eyes;
Lightheaded, ending any sense of continuity
When, prostrate in the comfort of another tapestry
I stand abruptly, let my dreams be drained from me through tendrils
Like the passing of a temporal existence;
Drinking in the dust and glue of crowded bookshops
In fear of losing inspiration
To the insatiable jaws of my consumerist natural state;
Rummaging in a bargain bin
In search of someone to tell me, “Stop!"
With heads in clouds and bodies in ice trays,
Stealing lines of logic and lyric,
Throwing down and hacking into
Elemental bits which fit into my own vernacular
Sacrificing beauty for originality and vice versa;
Choosing idols idly with the tides
Of knowledge and of art
Rising and falling without fail
Never apparent and never blurred by motion;
Searching for a style like an odd-numbered jean size;
Finding greater inspiration in waves of unopened mysteries;
Following examples laid by unsuccessful fictions;
Learning ethics only from the prologues of ****** novels,
Unsuspecting victims snuffed in interesting and lurid ways;
Letting technological distraction detract from the projections of psychological complexity
Which I, from atop the high horse of my own pretensions
Pretended to embrace;
Committing massive acts of thievery, fraud, and infinite lethargy
For the sake of juvenile, illegitimate art forms;
Seeking other seekers who exist autonomously
For the sake of personal independent credibility;
Leading unsuspecting, overreaching, overeating, understanding, undemanding,
Too forgiving, not forgetting,
Victims of domestic warfare
To a loveless watery grave
For the sake of my own loneliness;
Patronizing every segregated buffet
With courage enough only for a small taste of everything;
With the flavors of the day swirling around
For me to shoot them down
And pin their carcasses to elementary school walls
And Mormon tool sheds
And nature centers
And all the forgotten places of summers past
In the hope of rediscovering
Some old buried treasure
Be it wondrous or worthless;
With the uneasy insincerity of a rodent who pretends to understand a city;
With adopted methods
And repeated thoughts
And ideas which came to me in waking dreams of my own retirement;
Sharing, for a captive audience,
The formidable giants which
Inform our common denominator
Searching through myself for only the most indecipherable
With the fear of being understood
And the fear of being ridiculed
And pretensions of some preternatural predetermination for greatness;
With acceptance of predisposition for obscurity,
The cost of the inundation of the new airwaves.
The series of tubes that feed us intravenously
With information, information, information,
Having killed God and left material validation in His wake;
It could be that new gods are born in the minds of the innovators,
Those wonderfully wealthy
Whose social structuralism
Was a beacon to us all;
In the darkness of an architectural anomaly
Where lights extinguish as my body lies dormant
Alone and abandoned
Only by my own subversion;
Confined ever to a convolution of passages
While above me all my peers still carry on;
Overstaying welcomes
And letting emotionality
Color conversation
A sicklier green,
A green of a tree only just sprouted,
A green of a new recruit,
A green of an inexperienced schoolboy
Faced with the daunting and timeless act
Of copulation;
Somehow taking in the sights and sounds and smells
Of advanced mathematics
Even occupied, as I am,
With explaining my actions
Most eloquently;
Devoting myself to another cause,
Another, another, another
Always relaxing my grip by losing focus;
Desperately hoping not to let my fellow travelers
Lose their innocence
While I reluctantly, dogmatically
Keep mine on a leash;
Always keenly aware
Of the universe of worlds
Beyond my control,
And even my understanding;
On the increasingly frequent
Intrusions of risk
Into my significant reality
And the iota of explainable truth which guides the motion of my body but most frequently my mind;
Questioning the meaning of all words
Without thought or coordination;
Considering another restful journey
To clear my mind of human language
And in its place acquire thoughts and emotions from the street;
Without foreseeable direction,
Malice aforethought
Or noticeable signs of critical reaction
Giving birth to litter
Forgetting articles
And floating my sense of time up the Ganges;
Taking only seconds to counter the possibility of
Accepting more responsibility for myself;
Complicating matters with an interesting or bitter goodbye.
Title inspired by Mel Brooks' film *Young Frankenstein*
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2022
I knew we were in trouble
when they taught the machines to talk

parliament of artificial owls
nocturnal park line pirates

watch and learn
these conspirators
abduct the listening chair
and strap deniability to
another infernal device

so some hotwired pilgriming woman
possesses superior ****** abilities
and a skill with
the violin, the pointy end

camera is king

yet all the negatives
have been destroyed
still somewhere out there
remains a flash card
and a hybrid set of eyes
watching all the people fall to pieces

we're perambulations around
collapsed buildings,
rather than the collapsing buildings themselves

me and the machine
of contradictions
sick as our secrets
with all kinds of shenanigans going on

welcome to the age of copying minds
onto hard drives and cellphones

a future too heavy to carry
and so we plant it deep into the soil
letting the cables sleep
like fading city lights, receding
like strange fractured reactors
at the edge of the world

in lieu of flowers send hope
Kirsten Lovely Jan 2014
Blinding light
Middle of the night
Nothing here makes sense
My brown eyes are darker
Senses sharper
My shoulders ache and tense.
Hearing whispers
Air is thicker
I absorb all I can take in
Someone coughs
Lights click off
Am I alone again?
Paper gown
That doesn't stretch down
Knobby knees are barely covered
****** in my arm
Send up an alarm
With a ****, my metal slate is lowered.

Lights pierce my eyes again.
brandon nagley May 2015
Two tangling tounges, where life's streams flow and run beyond the masterpiece brook. Acushla, where art thou? To ease me from prison time crooks?
Analgesic saliva tempers these soft healed wounds, where monkeys turn baboons into sackclothe bezoar poses!!!!
A betwixt of no selection,............///////////
Bilateral to street intersections, main arteries closed upon for clogging!
Heartfelt loggings are manuscript to billows binary made for two,   yet if you stay one , what's the fun in that?
Dog's to roam, cats to moan cog coindications separate to what Is....
Danderers are wildly sprung, shaved faces to bearded ones, are we all alone?
The defeasance of romance has left the gardens where blossoms are not alarming, yet few do grow there....
My Eyes, to confiscate those Notes on-board
My Ears, to abduct those shrill Tunes a-light
My Hands, to guide the Maestro of the Word
My Tongue, to speak of their Meaning's Delight
My Mind, to sprinkle the Seeds of their Songs
My Heart, to skip Jolly Tunes with a Jig
My Spirit, to sponge my Past Living Wrongs
My Soul, to sing your Legacy so big
My Hands, to applaud the Kingdom's New Band
My Chest, to parallel Vibes to your Beat
My Legs, to absorb that Brilliant New Dance
My Feet, to seal this Friendship with your Creed.
These Parts sum; Three Sick Sires and a Dame
And how my Laurels want to know their Name.
#emutemusic
Àŧùl Apr 2013
I can't say I will marry her really soon for sure, because this is India and the society here is really tough.

But I'm Atul Kaushal, my name literally means Incomparable Skill and I intend to achieve something significant in my life, such that I'm fully capable to fulfill all her unsaid hidden desires when we marry.

I don't want her to feel any regrets or other negative feelings when she marries me some 7 years later, I only want us to be different than the rest of world such that unlike most of them no problems arise between us due to various worldly problems.

May be I'm dreaming of something perfect, but so far my life has been perfectly imperfect with the share of misgivings I have had is the majority in my performance card and I now wish that when she marries me the only thing which is imperfect is our hairstyle every morning we wake up smiling as we remember the previous night.

May be I am or may be I'm not demanding too much from time - I'm just asking her in my destiny - just her - in my mornings I imagine her jogging with me - in my days toiling at her desk in the office just like me - in my afternoons calling me to verify if I had my lunch we had packed in the morning - in my evenings asking how my day at office had been and telling about hers too - in my weekends I see 'us' having fun.

May be I am or may be I'm not being too apprehensive in my mind - apprehensive that whether her family will accept me as their son-in-law, or we would have to forget each other, or we will have only one way left and that be just to take help from the court and elope to get married, or may be I will just have to abduct her from the wedding venue in full public view in front of her parents, uncles & aunts, siblings & cousins, friends & acquaintances, Hindu priests & pujaris, may be thugs & bodyguards hired by her family to keep the wedding a smooth affair, and may be my parents might refuse to let her in.

But under ideal conditions, it will be as I desired and even later we would be happily parenting two kids for I don't wish to have just one child like I myself had been in my childhood; these scars of loneliness are dug prominently on my face, but these disappear, yes these disappear when you make me smile along you as I hear you smile and I believe that these will surely disappear permanently after our formal union; till then I miss you meri nanhi si jaan my sweet young love, like I should have missed when I was fifteen too - I miss you and I miss you because I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you and I more than love you.
All I can end the poem with is that just 7 more years, you'll be done with studies & I'll be minting a fortune fortunately - definitely, it will take time - in a day nobody conjures out any long history.
Howsoever bumpy it may be, but rest assured that you're going to enjoy this journey.
(: You'll love it - you're gonna love it, all of it, my lovely young baby. :)
P.S.: I'm never going to lose You my Lovely Little Poetess.
P.P.S.: I truly love You my Magical Angel. :)
My HP Poem #160
© Atul Kaushal
K Balachandran Apr 2015
Gently he'll take her in his arms,"Öh! my precious orchid"
he looks deeply in to her eyes, classic lover style, it still works,
that was the hope he finally clung on,her mother would murmur
something away from  his ears,to be careful, he didn't get her point.

her eyes were bright and deceptive, his Waterloo,those two were,
eyelashes always would flutter, as if she is afraid, he would abduct her,
how romantic, his heart jumps up at once in delight,
a shipful of bounty returning after the hunt of a lifetime!

"Could I call you anytime, please let me, even if it's too late"
she would plead, too cute,then pretend dejection, ah! he  likes it
as if he'll deny it and she can't bear that thought, her heart'd break,
he'd say" Ẅhy not, I'd anticipate your call all night"

he would stand sentinel,that night, wait for her call
hell, she won't call, not a day!, still can he go and sleep?
he'd meet her with bleary eyes, the day after so apologetic,
she'd get offended at his disheveled , mad look.

"Aren't you my heart's poem, then come to me little more decently"
asking him  to keep awake all night, this wasn't her speaking!
"Come to coffeehouse, sharp at  four" she is curt this time.
then, someone will come and inform, "She won't  make it today"

And when things get muddled, she comes running
and pretend **** apologetic,"Sorry, a fool I am, to hurt you, dear"
never did he tell her what she really was, never asked her to *******
she was a shipwreck, spectacular, rescue was someone else's business..
captured in the psych ward ——  a strange word——— something to do with bludger



today ron has his hands full when a person came after tying an 11 year old boy to the toilet

and he started to get these weird voices in his head, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it,

you see his youth wasn’t bad, there was a bit of teasing but his parents think the teasing could’ve

been the reason why he did the crime, you see his brother said, be a oh ledger, which made no

fucken sense, and it could be a strange name because he didn’t want his sibling to be labelled a

pheadphile, and ron was talking to him asking him, why did you attack that child and he said

because i wanted him to suffer for what my school mates were doing to me, you see my school mates

are calling me a ole ledger, which makes no sense, and ron said, maybe they are calling you that, because

they feel guilty calling you a phedaphile, or they prefer to not call a mate a phedaphile, and then ron said

or maybe they are saying young bludger or a dole bludger because you look lazy to me, and then the man got

up and said, i am a bit of a bludger, but i am not a dole bludger, i want to work, but most of the jobs i like to do

are jobs that this crime would stop me from doing, and charlie chaplin came up to the man and said, charlie’s my name

what is yours and he said, kidnapper bill, you see i kidnapped a kid named bill, and now i am in here, being called

a oh ludger, and charlie said, they are calling you what, and he said a oh ludger, you see i was getting teased all my life

and i took out revenge on them by destroying the life of a litte kid, and ron said, do you think you should tell very many people

because charlie will tell and it could make your time in here uncomfortable and he said, i can handle it, and he said, like when

i grabbed that kid, i felt good, i was just about to make the past leave my mind, because those teasers were horrible to me

and then ron said ok they called you a oh ludger, which makes no sense, why the devil was that word in your head because

it is not a word in the english language, and then the child molestor said, my name is gordon mcllumsy, and i am 23 years old

and i have been getting teased all my life, and my brother peter mclumsy is calling me a oh ludger, because he wanted to

keep it from our father that he thought i was a pheadphile, i don’t believe in having *** with a kid, i just tied him up and threaten him

if he tells the cops, well obviously he did, and he’ll pay for it, and pete, my brother said, your a oh ludger, and since that day my mind

was so messed up, i thought he was treating me like a family person, or a dole bludger or a young bludger, but now you guys have

arrested me, the voice has stopped but pete came the other day, and i heard the words oh ludger come out of his mouth

and i hear those words 25 times in one day, i am trying to relax in here but the voice of my brother says you are a oh ludger, oh ludger

and i told him, yeah a dole bludger or a young bludger or maybe even a sports watcher, because gordon was watching the sport when

that voice became clearer, and he had hallucinations of his mates at school saying, your getting teased gordon, we tried to push you over

the edge and now you are getting teased and ron said ok, and when these kids teased you, what did they say, and gordon said, they went yeah mate

to me every time i did family stuff, like play footy or cricket, or even when we played boardgames, and gordon hated that, screaming out

LEAVE ME THE **** ALONE, I AM A FAMILY PERSON, and this happened every day for gordon, and most of the time it wasn’t just yeah mate

sometimes, bullies would pick on him, by jabbing pocket knives into his neck or gut, or jabbing ball point pens onto his ***** and gordon said

LEAVE ME THE **** ALONE, I AM A FAMILY PERSON, and the head bully of the school locked gordon in the school store room, saying

you will be here overnight, **** and gordon wanted to get out, and eventually a teacher let him go, and then gordon told rob, i wanted revenge

on these bullies, and this kid got in my way, and since that day, i heard the voices, oh ludger coming out of my brother and mates, and i thought

this meant nothing, and gordon still thought they meant dole kludgier, sports watcher or young bludger, but gordon thought pete was a real little

smart alek and needed to be taught a very big lesson, because gordon isn’t really a pheadaphile, he was just bullied around at school by stupid

jealous school kids and ron thought straight away that gordon needs medication to calm his mind, so he chose 300 mils largactil at night and

200 mills serenace in the morning, and ron thought with talk therapy, this should work, so he gave him his first dose of serenade, and he was still

hearing the words oh ludger, which could’ve meant sports watcher or dole bludger or young bludger or even a special name so pete and gordon’s parents

don’t find out that pete was treating gordon like a family person, and gordon was walking around yelling with words saying, i am not a pheadaphile, please

stop treating me like a phedaphile and gordon yelled at anyone who looked at him when they watched the news which made ron come out and try

and settle him down, gordon said, stop treating me like a little kid, I AM A RUN OF THE MILL, HEAVY DUTY MAN, dudes, and then gordon goes to his room

and then hears the words oh ludger, don’t be a yeah mate yeah kid, gordon, be a oh ludger, which means nothing to gordon and gordon yelled out

LEAVE ME ALONE YA ****, I AM NOT A OH LUDGER, i could be a dole bludger or a sports watcher, or a young bludger, but i am not a phedaphile

that kid had it f..n coming and i don’t deserve being captured in ron’s psych ward, being shoved on any medications, i want the best, f..n rupert and

then the order forms came out for lunch and dinner and gordon ordered his meals and went to his room yelling at his voices calling him a oh ludger

and gordon said, LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE, then ron, who was terribly worried about gordon gave him 2 values and said just relax because you

are causing people to complain about you, and the ****** sent gordon off to sleep till his family, including pete came to visit him and gordon told his parents

to stay, but pete had to go, because, he can hear oh ludger coming from his teasing voice which forced me to being a kidnapper, dudes and ron thought

that maybe his parents need to understand what medication gordon is on and that he hears voices of pete calling him a oh ludger which could be a dole bludger

or a sportswatcher or a young bludger or a fancy way that pete says he is a pheadaphile, to make make you feel great, and we put gordon on largactil and

serenace to control his urges to abduct children, apparently he was taking revenge on kids at his school and then gordon spent 2 hours with his parents

and his parents left, and it was almost dinner time and gordon went out to the dinner table and at dinner time, gordon got what he ordered, fish and chips

and vegetables with a orange juice and a chocolate mousse and after dinner ron gave gordon his largactil and gordon went to his room, missed supper

because he was having a big sleep, where he awoke at 5 am, and he went out to the dining room to wait for 2 hours for breakfast and medications, but

he told the nurses he had a dream about being burnt at a stake, because he remembered being treated like an old witch when he was 13 and when ron

came after his lovely time at home with pizza and sleeping on the couch, turned up at the hdu to give the patients the morning medications and ron

asked gordon, are you still hearing old ludger and gordon said, yeah, i f..n am and i started by thinking they were treating me like a sports watcher as

i was watching the tennis last night, but i fell asleep, and gordon still doesn’t understand what old ludger actually meant and then lunch came with

gordon yelling at his voices so loudly and then afternoon tea, with gordon having 3 pieces of the cake and then dinner came, and gordon started hearing

voices in ron and the nurses, and that started driving him completely nuts, and gordon told ron, and ron decided to give him more serenace and start

by trialling eppelim on him to be taken at lunch time to reduce the voices he hears and then dinner came and gordon ate his dinner and then ron brought

around the nightly medications and then ron clocked off and bought lunch at his favourite cafe and went home and watched greys anatomy and fell asleep

on the couch, while gordon was still bothered by the word old ludger, but it was calming slowly but surely.
Jordan Alexander Sep 2010
You rent out my hand
and abduct my mouth
to force me to speak
I will oppose
You intoxicate my legs
and hide away my feet
while returning my debt
and ***** me
just so I may speak
I oppose
You embrace me in a tea room
send me grape juice
and give me a sentence
only for me to speak
I am opposing
You amputate my brain
so I may admit to my thought
And play me a tape which is outgoing
So I might decide to say
of my needles
and say so speaking
I still oppose
The meaning of the trustees and the ablution of the signs respectively were based on the word ficare "in the proportion of providing signs and building", as a complement to the concept, in the case of Zefian's Virola, it is given to the ring that rotates in its elliptical as a virtual particle, similar to the Muon. But always in a semantic ring or circle look. Linguistics will attribute both the Virola and the Fero; in this case "leading or leading" The dissociation here is the semantics in the object not entrenched to be used as a common kind of language, but rather as "Virolifero", it is understood that this word will forge the Zefian Arrow into the amalgamation of the ring that leads, to abduct all energies towards a Central Whole. The product of all this energy will be called channeling of the mental representations of the "sign" of signifying, evoking independence in each terminology by itself and represented, rather in the theological physical elementality, associated with the Virolifera plane.

As the treatise of this codex suggests, a term between terms, to assign mnemonic and etymological chaining of meaning most of the appropriation of terminologies attached to a properly vernacular word. The horizon that is stipulated is of a Vernathian nature, where the average life-turning receptacle is of enormous proportions in its multi dynamics, especially in the moral, ethical and theological, especially in matters of emotional articulation associated with a significant meaning. Vernarthian dreams are of Speed of Quantum Physics, therefore they are pure metaphysical and meta-biological, appending to restricted spaces of stimulus and impulse speed, hiding in the residual mass of the unknown, to attribute to them chromatics that is settled in the Corpus Callosum of both hemispheres. Neuroscience yes, but that deposits physical values in the concentration of rest and active energy in areas of the cerebellum, to unleash a choice of names or anthroponyms. Where all the names with a certain alacrity of reason, meaning is attached according to their toponymy, in this case, Virolifero, could be a factor of canceling choices and adaptation of higher energies, on the universe, as a patronage of the Universe "called Rings of Zefian ”endowed with electron elliptical Muon particles.

The signifier of Virolifero will be its phoneme, perhaps more associated with the subject being the ring, associated with its mental representation. This force of Vernarthian thought indicates semantics and phonetics of speculative endowment, for becoming of building rings associated with an eco-physical and eco-environmental scheme. The entire philosophical Vernarthian range has a Sacred Geometry in its verbal and numeral composition, either in the connotation of concepts-ideas and of signs that represent the mental cultural heritage.  Literality will advocate the chronology of gap and verbal-linguistic space, contributing figurative, Greco-Latin barbarisms, such as Virolifero's verbal vigor if we place it in the reference of a building ring, being able to be figurative as a ring that makes or leads according to its practical verbal use dialectical. And in context, it would appear as something sacred in what will be referred to in this Codex of Nuraga Complexes, where each fold of lithosphere will be of the geological relationship between Stonehenge or Nuraga in Sardinia, each one appropriating age in what could be more or less an archaeological conflict of origins, or of comparative aspects of the referenced union, for the end of times, nations, civilizations, political states, and generations of socio-economic persistence. Making an archaeological contextual fact as in these terms, of such references of reception or political exile, but also cultural, adding the terminology of the intracultural contribution of the region. In the argument of Pythagoras and his self-exile in Italy, it is said that he had been condemned to exile from Samos because of his aversion to the tyranny of Polycrates. Around 530 BC settled in Crotona, a Greek colony in southern Italy, where he founded a movement with religious, political, and philosophical purposes, known as Pythagoreanism, and which generated duplicity of context in his sacred mathematical pilgrimage, towards a process of exercise contrary to his own Pythagorean School, expropriating a persona non grata in internal conflicts with personalities from Crotona itself, where he had to flee later. Here ipso facto the verbal exercise exemplifies his transliteration by an unfailing fact, in favor of what emerges from a coercive task, abandoning the same in what placidly sheltered him, and virtually ostracized as an immigrant from Samos.

Hosted the Pythagoreans in Sardinia, Italy.  Being in the colorimetry of the 6th century BC. He was peering into a universe that wasted infusion, clinging to the unknown roots themselves, with undulating harmonies in what we inhabit as an ethical and religious wave and vibrational entity. The prefix Vilori will indicate sacred mathematics, adapting to the numeral and algorithmic harmony of three plus three + 1, which would be the suffix, Fero. The external exaltation of numerical sensations will lie in human sensations already pre-established as a socio-environmental existential order, towards a divine-human being. What is strictly formative is a sacred legacy, since its equivalence is composed of mathematical formulas and figures that all point to the creation of an ambivalent whole, upward and downward proportionate. Focusing on originality of thought and work, embodying the prose, prophecies,  and intensely solid parables.

Vernarth and Etréstles began the attached Rituals in these megalithic complexes. On each Solstice, they arranged sectarians related to this phenomenology, in such a way as to incorporate them into this millenary civilization. They always attacked the archaeological area of Orroli, which is in the center of the soft plateau of Pran'e muru, in a strategic position to control the territory along the middle course of the Flumendosa River. Normally here they performed twilight liturgies similar to those perpetually held in La Mandragora, Sudpichi, Horcondising Region - Chile. Vernarth, always got all the provisions and utensils off the sailboat. Pyramid Torches, Oil Fuels, Sacred Drums, Proved Firewood, Stonework for Obsidian Workshops. Mapuche  wind instruments such as Trutruca, Cultrún and trompe. Buzzers to repel zoomorphic beings of the Bestiary, Alchemy, and Esotericism. Etréstles, coordinated content and other related duties by illuminating all the souls who once lived here. To which Vernarth masterfully adhered, filing them with impressive themes of the prehistoric world. To consider more than five volumes by concept before departure, to then break into the sacred space and meaning, limpid and originating from the session of totem animals and trance with Navajo drums. Each oar looked like a Karibu daunting a maple or a conifer that wanted to change its bark skin for those of the goring of the Karibu or the Moose him. While the eagle with its claws dropped crashing down on the Rehue line to Gnegechen, on the Cultrun, whose plural palpitations of the mandrake wanted to seem to be more than a hallucinogenic thrilling herb.

Describes Vernarth in Regression of him: Theater and Aeschylus, Dance and Athena, gifts from Stonehenge and Borrehaugene in Norway on Viking ships. They walked over the suspicious stones of the Nuragas.  In each ritual in these sets, they concelebrated next to the gorges, through which said river ran, being globally submerged in two artificial lakes until today. A territory deeply marked by man since prehistory, confirming the extraordinary concentration of remains found; from the Neolithic to the Bronze and Iron Ages, Roman times, and the Middle Ages. The Arrubiu was the main bastion, around it, satellite Nuragas gravitated, dominating strategic points and access roads. Near the complex is the tomb of Giants from the Sword, here they would consecrate their dynamics of the Xiphos Hoplite sword, to develop the bronze rites,  as a heritage from the linear insertion of Sardinia with Patmos,  to which they will go after the Solstice from the Nuraga complex. In his prehistoric speeches, he always had to stand out and go back to years prior to 1000 BC. Today it has become the symbol of Sardinia and its distinctive culture. The typical Nuraga is located in a panoramic place and has the shape of a tower with a geometric shape of a truncated cone or divided in half, some higher, others very low, reminiscent of a Tholos (Ancient Greek circular construction). Right here Vernarth, they poured milk and Pranayama, to delineate the points of the Sun to align them with the whims of Brahma and Xifos; swords that are gleaming over the eyes of a stingray. Vernarth, as post-frontal poetry, in treachery that decorated such a hendecasyllable, undertook to rescue the largest real estate fire, from where his own subsistence will hang. In the main protocol, in a drumming trance, he pierced the brains of all those present. Fragments remained everywhere ever imagined, on the timeless Nuragha ruins under the treetops and their Templum. Misleading beings that attacked the underworld of Persephone, and the Nuragic Gods who were elemented, by prevailing in this ceremony that they did not know if it was their own, not knowing that they were included.

Isaías sings (bis): “The presence in the corresponding versed folio makes it relative to the prophecy of the Immanuel born of a ******, which is associated with a similar Virgilian prophecy of Cumana, justifying its prophetic symbolism. Here is the warning that blackens the skies where the light retracts, thousands of attendants in the Nuragas are chained during the announcement of a thousandth that climbs abysses like the fateful Strigoi, and only tribulated pasture will have to transplant rebellions, which lie asleep for the wind of the ideal of incipient spiritual ******* dressed in execration. Has the conflagration of the heart that resists death and agonizes several times in the Templum ritual been unleashed ... The conditions await for the apostates when they refuse the water that does not make them optimal, and makes the radius of obedience of the Vernarthian heart elliptical, full of granules of lumpy Physconia, whose frequency will become embedded in bodies of treacherous, kingdoms and fungal lineages. The reign of the saints will judge diversity on the thrones with devastation in the fatuous beatifications in Pergamum, already admonished by me also in Sardinia”
Codex XIX -  Ultramundis  Nuragas
Glenn McCrary Aug 2011
Unexpectedly he has been cracked



Squarely across his dainty skull



Inevitably to his knees he languishes



Supplemented by a concussion



Havoc is illicitly wreaked upon the delicacy



Of this young man's psyche



As another swift, sucker punch is executed



Stylishly into his jawbone



Followed by an unforeseen series



Of frenzied jabs to the nose



The anguish screams through the brooks



Of crimson oozing from his nostrils



While a dangerous haymaker



Shockingly arises from thin air



Sinking fiercely into his cornea



Rupturing the veins in his eyeball



A circular crown of black envelops



The entire surface of his left eye



Oh, the gruesome consequences of



Applauding the eminence of nonexistence



A truculent knockout that will truly



Abduct one into an eerie coma



And rightfully deliver them back to



The portion of reality where they belong
TheSilentWarrior Jan 2015
White and bright,
hovering over me tonight.
The grass prickling on my bare skin,
as I lay hopeless.

Shines in my eyes, and
burns on my left arm side.
The pain is unbearable, as the
feeling was real.

The light dims as the saucer
appears.
My eyes watched with curiosity,
and wonder.

It hovers above me,
as my body was paralyzed from
top
to bottom.

It flies away until it is
a
few inches away from I.
Transforming into a
Christmas decoration, tonight.

Walking up a flight of stairs,
unsure what is ahead.
I see a familiar face,
a face that resembles me.

My care taker, my mother.
Sadden and dark, as we meet eye to eye.
"You were gone for many years, and your
grandparents blamed it on me."

Her words struck me, as if millions
of bombs went off in my heart.
Her voice was scratchy and her tone was dry,
my heart was pounding as if
it was the dawn of time.

"What do you mean? That I was gone?I have
been here ever since I've become."
Her stare was cold but hurt, yet I was confused.
Was I really here? or the mysterious light abduct me?
I had a strange dream that felt completely real,
the light burnt my eyes and a burning sensation appeared
on my left arm.
I woke up with pain on that side and woke up scared.
The part where my mum says I was gone for years (10 yrs) was probably a sign of the future ahead of I.

But I believe I was abducted...I believe in UFO's and Aliens.
No judging.
Dac Aug 2013
An exquisite product of nature, A creation of lust.
Your beauty is omnipotent, that can control and destruct.
Abduct my feeble mind and torture, I will endure the pain.
******* and ecstasy is all I want to obtain.

Don't let me move show your authority.
Conjure affliction for me it's pleasure.
You're a lithe, malevolent deity.
A divine, unobtainable treasure.
Ashley Sep 2013
they say that darkness falls.

they believe it overtakes the
Sun, in all its brilliance,
at the end of every day.
in their eyes, the clutches of night
abduct the light that is exuded
on to our haste-driven,
humming lives.

per contra,
black waves have never conquered
the biting bars of golden sunlight;
instead, it has always billowed
from opposite ends of the Earth
to replace a fickle Sun, one
that forsakes stars and city stripes
for new moieties, and
new existences.

at night, a duvet of ink swirls above us,
blanketing bodies and nature alike
under enchanted, glittering tapestries
woven together with the glittering tears
of galaxies out of reach, sewn and fitted
to the quintessence of shadowed alleys,
whispering fields, even
the dimply lit room where two beating hearts
unify.

they say darkness falls,
when the truth is, it rises.
darkness always rises like the calm, gentle wave.
this was a poem i just wrote for an english assignment, which i just like and felt like i wanted to post here. i was particularly inspired to write this poem by a line in the article i based it off of, that said "we like to think that darkness "falls"... but as the earth turns its back to the sun, darkness actually rises from the east to wash and flood over land and sea."
Lucy Tonic Nov 2011
Crooked, Tempest, Spineless F*ck
The worst intentions with the best of luck
****, Take, "Pancake"
Consume, Devour, Fire in the Lake
Do yourself once in awhile,
Let me be.
Mosey along, claim to be free
Pocket full of posies and stains on your knees
Give in to what they want,
Cause it's all you ever knew
Pockets full of knives and blood on my shoes
Do yourself once in awhile,
Let me be.
Arrived in new lands, to conquer or claim?
Call it your home, I wish it your bane
No more identity, no more home
Pining away from cracks in the throne
You stole something I could never own
Do yourself once in awhile,
Let me be.
This carcass is dead, you've bled me dry
But there's more to these bones than meets the eye
Maybe one day you'll dig me up
Uncover the mystery amidst the muck
Than I could tell you the difference
Between saving a life and living a lie
Do yourself once in awhile,
Let me be.
The Polygamist and his Pharmacy Keys
"Worship me or you'll catch my disease."
I'm crawling on the ground but I'll see you in the sky
Where the ship will abduct, and Sophia says Hi.
Serenity of the Buddha fountain
graces our garden
His wise presence flows
steadily over thorns, thistle
and rocks that jut across the pathway
creating obstacles in our lives

There was turmoil, misery,
calamity in His generation
just like today
The Ravanas of our time
prowl earth’s gardens
seeking to abduct and ravage
goodness, love, purity, truth

Illustrious Gautama gained the perfect
peace that passeth understanding
by treading the middle path and realizing
that pushing the envelope
indulging in all types of extreme behavior
sabotages our mental, emotional and physical
well being

He declared to His disciples as they
wandered through the world that
desire is the cause of all suffering
and like the Master Jesus encouraged them
“to be in the world not of it”
This He knew could be actualized by
the right use of the senses,
loving, compassionate service to mankind
and having a still, tranquil mind
through the process of
meditation

Twilight dusk blankets the garden
The Buddha twinkling under a
panorama of evening stars
a crystal ball spinning luminously
in his hands
illumines our beaten path
from His radiant pedestal,
beneath the Bodhi tree
“The Sun of Enlightenment Shines”
Alien, you remain a mystery to me.
You carve upon my retinas with your ideas,
your friendless habits abduct my days.
You phrase my nightmares and phase through
my eyelashes, lasting a dawn with nothing more than
gibbous eyelids, over-ambitious? No. My heart is not nutritious,
fixing this isn't by contributing to the addiction, inflicting
absence as a base to what I do; how I think. Why are
you always at the edge of when I
blink?
---------
All feedback is welcome!!
So; I hope this poem isn't confusing.
Alien is meant to be a character I talk to; like my mystery.
I hope that makes sense.:)
Lucy Tonic Nov 2011
Death stuck its tongue down my throat
The day you waltzed into my life
I should have felt the universe's tempo erupt
But I was too busy fulfilling self-prophecies

Luring with your lore
The diabolical trickster
I would have had an alibi
But you led me to the woods
You said, "Follow these bread crumbs,
I'm right by your side."
But when we arrived,
You blew the house down
And as I watched the Jack of Hearts
Fly away like a destined balloon,
You threw me in the oven

I just wanted to know what I stood for
You spelled it out for everyone
Psychological warfare bends
Now you have my friends
In your sweaty little palm

You're Warhol in a freezer
Conducting Gold with your disposable
Tin-foil factory
They postulate and worship you
While you jam their fingernails in soil,
In smack,
On steering wheels of junk Cadillacs
But your exploitation is a little less divine
They'll build statues in your honor
But their names never graced
The pages of your diary

I couldn't help but ask
Where did you learn such deceit?
Did the antichrist tribe transform you?
Or did a brainwashing cult abduct you?
Did dear liberty project a monarch on your crown
Then steal your head away?
Someone had to teach you the tactics of the dead
Otherwise I wouldn't be here

The ****** who never loses his shirt
But fights *****
Who thinks he's a sun god
But never could see the ice on the moon
You're nothing but a blurred photograph
An insect in amber
An unborn fetus
A ghost
You could have had your revolution
But you chained all the orphans
And crucified her on a telephone pole
Travis Green Dec 2021
There is unimaginable passion
Surging through my body
The more I stare open-mouthed
At your sightliness
You are sweet and sensational
As a profoundly beautiful red rose
You are spellbinding as sexually gratifying slow jams
You awaken my lust

You fill me with overwhelming sensations
The more I gaze at your grandeur
You paint my soul the color of the rainbow
I feel enchanted by your dopeness
I glow when you hold me close to you
When I smell the enthralling scent from your chest
Rubbing you down, becoming absorbed
In your pleasurable paradise

I drift into your seamless succulence
Touching your lusciously sculpted biceps
Let my tongue create bewitchment with your lips
Produce prepossessing poetry
Stroke your dark, magnetic beard
Manipulate your senses
Shake up your nation
Confuse your concentration

Abduct your seductiveness
Steal away your coordination
Place you in an asylum
Where I tyrannize your mind
Leave you defenseless
Screaming sensually
Feeling my overwhelming incessant thunder
As I numb your body parts
Make you a victim to my raging storm of ******* ****** love
Jack Piatt Oct 2011
I'm not a product
I'm an abduct
E
To not be
or be
It's not a question
it's a statement
get the ****
out of the basement
become your own
replacement
don't run
face it
learn to embrace it
there's no wrong
or right
there's just tonight
if you don't fight
for the moment
then you're a prisoner
to the past

or you live too fast
on fast forward
to the future
then you have
no culture
no identity
just a picture
in an album
from the 80's
you know it's crazy
so stop the madness
eject the sadness
open the door
to a new
consciousness
and in this
lies bliss
like an ******
incense stick
left burning
in your brain
one step closer
to sane
runaway
if you want
but you'll be back
this life is a circle
like a High School track
one day you'll
realize to stop
running around
and just sit down
on the bleachers
and soak it all in
that's the only way
to win
stop playing
start saying
goodbye to the lies
then blink blink
open your eyes
to finally
realize
it's all
a disguise
for how simple
it all
really is
Let the illusion of loving take me
I am stronger than the oak
Let the stranglehold of hatred tempt me
I am slipping from it's grasp
Let mortality escape with those around me
I am understanding of life
Let misery abduct the heart of hearts
I am quick to recover
Let their lust rip the soul of the inner child
I am spotless resilience
Let life play keep away with my dreams
I am tenacious
Let enduring sleep try for me
I am chosen
Let the contention of family destroy the man
I am the phoenix
Let the struggles be many
I am not dissuaded
Let the enemy fill my heart with lies
I am believing
I am myself
I am all that I am become
Bashayer Jan 2016
“Are you plotting on me?”* She asked.
“Yes, I am.” He answered.
”What kind of conspiracy are you planning to do?” She asked.
“I am conspiring to abduct your heart from you.” He answered.
”But you already did.” She muttered.
Emily Tucker Feb 2018
My hands wrap around the end of my sleeves, cutting off the chilling air; avoiding hypothermia. Although, my finger is curious to feel frost. Slowly, it creeps to the tip of my sleeve. Thankfully the slight chill warns me. Any further and I would have been bitten. For frost bites.
My legs are locked like lifeless rocks at the bottom of an ocean. The tear I shed from my eye is crisp and cold on my swollen face. In front of me are frozen foot steps pacing in past on the asphalt street. A roadside light gleams down thirty paces away. The wind is silent. The street is clear.
In fact, all that speaks is my mind. Body as motionless as the dead, yet my lungs still fill with air and my heart continues to pump blood through my veins. I am heavy in thought; heavy in feeling. I can't seem to move my motionless limbs. I rather fall to the bitter pavement and let my dreams abduct me in rest. For I am tired. I am weak. And I am heavy.
natalie anderson Apr 2013
Im trapped
Chained to the floor by my ankles
Bound with y hands behind my back
Naked, exposed
But I can see clearly
Im watching him fearfully with delight
Carefully choosing the instruments of my demise
He selects a thin knife from his bag of tricks
He thinks he has the upper hand but he does not
For he does not know, how could he, that I thrive on pain
He is my torturer
The man who will give me the most pleasure as he kills me
Walking towards me I shiver in anticipation
And brace myself for his assault
He ***** is fist and suddenly I taste blood
My mouth fills, coppery warm trickles down my face
Repeatedly he hits me in the face, stomach, and chest
My face stings, my core is throbbing and my chest is sore
Hes pulling up my eyelids as I open my eyes
I cant help it, I smile
It’s a wicked grin that makes him take a step back in confusion
I hear myself asking for more
Hes stunned and surprised
I can only imagine him thinking ‘what kind of monster did I abduct?’
He comes back to me
This time with his thin knife
He starts to carve up my skin
Hes going nuts, I think hes as excited as I am
My skin is a piece of art
An intricate ****** piece of lace
He has me on the floor
Straddling my stomach as he looks at my face, into my eyes
I can physically see and feel his excitement growing
Me all cut up ****** and bruised is a turn on for him
He fumbles with his zipper and proceeds to **** me
(but is it **** if you enjoy it?)
Hes biting
My neck, shoulders and *******
Really taking chunks out
His hands around my throat
I feel myself fading as he rages on
Its to the point where my vision is black
And I can see white spots
I hear a ringing in my ears
I feel my chest convulsing
As I suffocate
Just as I drift off into death I feel his ******.
nick armbrister Oct 2023
ABDUCTEE



You’re a girl like no other ’cause of what you are. It’s not your fault that you got scared, cry at night or get so lonely in a crowd. Everyday you ask the same two questions: Why me? And when will they come for me? You get flashbacks of blinding pain and flashing strobe lights. So when the aliens abduct you and you feel it before it happens, you wish for death. Can no one see the alien ship as you float through your roof up to it? No one believes you when you say you’re an abductee – aliens don’t exist, they say – they’re just in our minds.
from skeward images nick armbrister
Alexandra J Sep 2016
The moon can’t cure my illness
if I abduct all of her stars.

I fill my veins up with light
only to control the despair,
but I am left with a vacant sky.

Minutes tremble before me,
seconds fall at my feet;
I have no time left.

The delight of reaching rock bottom
without the impact.
Let me rest.

Fill me up to the brink with hope
and leave me for dead.
Leave me in secret.

— The End —