"annihilated" poems
Look in the mirror. Let us both look.
Here is my naked body.
Apparently you like it,
I have no reason to.
Who bound us, me and my body?
Why must I die
together with it?
I have the right to know where the borderline
between us is drawn.
Where am I, I, I myself.
Belly, am I in the belly? In the intestines?
In the hollow of the *** In a toe?
Apparently in the brain. I do not see it.
Take my brain out of my skull. I have the right
to see myself. Don’t laugh.
That’s macabre, you say.
It’s not me who made
my body.
I wear the used rags of my family,
an alien brain, fruit of chance, hair
after my grandmother, the nose
glued together from a few dead noses.
What do I have in common with all that?
What do I have in common with you, who like
my knee, what is my knee to me?
Surely
I would have chosen a different model.
I will leave both of you here,
my knee and you.
Don’t make a wry face, I will leave you all my body
to play with.
And I will go.
There is no place for me here,
in this blind darkness waiting for
corruption.
I will run out, I will race
away from myself.
I will look for myself
running
like crazy
till my last breath.
One must hurry
before death comes. For by then
like a dog ****** by its chain
I will have to return
into this stridently suffering body.
To go through the last
most strident ceremony of the body.
Defeated by the body,
slowly annihilated because of the body
I will become kidney failure
or the gangrene of the large intestine.
And I will expire in shame.
And the universe will expire with me,
reduced as it is
to a kidney failure
and the gangrene of the large intestine.
12k
#*Let the evil within be annihilated
And grey be restored
Rejuvenated to vibrancy of colours of love
Dispersion of love and light
Through the prismatic heart
Every soul be washed anew
In colours of the rainbow in mirthful hues
Forgive and forget, past hurt
And in the beauty of love, regale
Let’s celebrate
Holi
The festival of colours, harbinger of spring*#
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
Part II of "Got 0 Followers"
aim high
to keep
it low
expectations
such an
Awesome Awful
curse
others infect
you with
don't, yada yada,
ya wanna be like
Tom, **** and Jane,
even Harry, a transgendered
friend and fellow (ha) outcast,
all with a good job
prospects of a
goodly tented long life?
so ya write poems
to nobody
about nothing and
you are pleased
to be pleasing just yourself
in writing you have
nothing to prove,
so read them
like keepsakes
ya like,
keep 'em & me hid,
in the shoebox
under the closeted
pile of ***** clothes,
special designer outfits concocted
so they keep my remains,
privatized and unsanitized,
my equity,
hidden,
disguised as disgusting
but for god-sakes
don't follow me,
unless
you want to curse us
both with
Expectations of Expectations,
then comes with
illiteracy of
Affection
then the literary
pre-tension
that always follows,
leading to
Affectation,
the first derivative of the infection of affection
yeah,
then comes
caring
and it instantly it's too late,
you're *******
right up the mental heine,
lost condemned
ruined annihilated
crushed subverted
crushed into
mental death camp suffocation of more, please ma,
can I have some more?
crap, why did you have to go and follow me?
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 8:14 PM UTC
I'm curious...
How did my ExxP parents
Give birth to two IxxJ children?
How did my 'ideal match' parents
Get such a ****** up marriage?
How does my T father
Really feel about and think of his F son?
How much does my ISFJ brother
Hate his INFJ sister for stunting his F growth,
Because our ESTP father, my shadow type, has annihilated mine?
How am I supposed to be able to predict
My ENFP mother's flip-flopping parenting,
Even if we're both NFs?
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
"silence is worse; all truths that are kept silent become poisonous.” ― friedrich nietzsche
like poking the hornet's nest with a stick, you are a rose with stems and thorns so thick,
your skin is protection from oppression, keeping the world out of your private channels
like i'm AM and you're FM all of which are static with distorted voices only science can pry through your enigmatic cacophony on a molecular level, and any evidence of who you are, i couldn't find with years of knowledge, a indestructible ship could speak more evidence about
why it was annihilated, obliterated, disintegrated under the ocean for months at a time without
any current survivors, and the last person i could be described as would be Sherlock Holmes
every detail washes over my head like a flood of details that can't enter because a force field
surround my head like it's a crown being so clueless, but it feels like i'm wearing a dunce hat
and maybe i do realize that there will be a position where you will be put out into light
there is no way out of your mind, like a schizophrenic, if kryptonite killed superman,
can it **** the infectious virus spreading like wildfire through these veins, can you stop
worrying about when you will finally break down and open up to someone?
****
- kra
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
Why might I ask, doth a path lie here
Amidst thorns and angry boughs
Why path, doth thy lie here
When you leadeth nowhere
For so long hath I traveled
Encountering oh so many dangers
Nowhere may I walk
Without a vicious hand drawing up sword
Fiery hate, burning steel
Alas, another life must I rip away
For I cannot lie down and die, no!
Ah, Tamriel, may I not just live in peace
Nay, into your war drawn, a side I must choose
And follow seemingly endless, pointless paths
Much akin to the one lying before me
Ordered to **** **** ****
No peace until one or the other side is annihilated
Upon my shoulders this burden lies
Betraying many whom hath trusted me along the way
Until one way or another a corrupted man lies in control
Then off again down another dreary path
Dark Brotherhood seeking my assistance
Ah, but thou art vile murderers
Down with ye all!!
My blade vows never to rise to such hatred and angst
Dragonborn, Dragonborn! Help us please!
Fetch the Elder Scroll, Banish the evil!
Yet another burden
It would seem all of Tamriel needs at least one favor
Yet I do not shy away
For I love thee, Skyrim
I love the smiles good deeds bring, the thanks
I will continue to fight for what I believe
Until to Sovngarde's arms I am graced
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 8:26 PM UTC
In Gothic architecture, light is considered
the most beautiful revelation of God;
Beauty is a characteristic of an animal,
an idea, object, person or place that provides
an experience of pleasure, or satisfaction;
Beauty is studied as part of aesthetics, [culture],
social psychology, philosophy & sociology;
An ideal beauty is an entity;
admired; possessing features
widely attributed to beauty in a particular culture;
to perfection:
Ugliness [commonness], [ ] commonly considered to be the opposite
of beauty,
annihilated as an intellectual concept,
no longer exists;
The experience of beauty is often
involved in an interpretation of some
entity [being in balance & harmony];
the experience of nature may lead to feelings
of attraction & emotional well-being;
Because perception is a purely subjective experience,
it was once said that beauty
is in the eye of the beholder;
a sentiment long debunked;
There is evidence that hypothetical perceptions
of beauty involve determining
aspects of things, people & landscapes;
beauty is typically found
in situations likely to enhance the survival
of the perceiving collection
[of chromosomes]
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
Innocence Molested
Innocence has been molested, thrown in dust bin
Just without any sin and just without any crime
The only sin of little girl was to get education to win
The laurels in days to come to serve in her prime
Morality has gone to dogs and dogs are but stray
Their masters are trying hard to save them for brutality
Shameless creatures are hidden in their ***** way
But this time they will not be safe for but heir hostility
Zainab was ***** and killed in the age of just seven
While her parents were on holy journey to Makkah
So sweet a girl being a martyr she embraced heaven
Her chastity purity were converted by rascals to saga
Criminals must be hanged till death for their ***** sin
Little girl be given justice with exemplary punishment
No more little girls be molested ,thrown but in dust bin
Corrupt elements be annihilated as declared and meant
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2018 Golden Glow
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
Blinded by the sunlight that shines so brightly,
it proceeds to massage my spectacles,
rinsing the grime away from my eyes,
there lived mankind, buildings, plants, and animals,
but where was I, unaware of the planet I saunter,
I look in amazement, unborn to what to forecast,
but then I distinguished the dark side, somber and bleak,
impoverished skeletons walking hunchbacked, desperately
scrambling for silver, as so to purchase a bottle of liquor and a burger to indulge his vacancy that absents him,
as I trek my way further into this metropolis,
I hear a sudden commotion arising from the right direction,
it begins to steer me that way, luring me in deeply there was a mass of onlookers chanting on, of what seemed to be two individuals pummeling one another into a bloodbath, but then it escalated, the crowd began to all partake in the beating and it caused a mayhem, that was uncontrolled, I bolted the scene, protecting my mask from getting dismantled, as suddenly I hear a very deafening noise, it was a four wheeler wagon, that speedily amtrac it's way towards the locus in which we was in, everyone scattered the scene, as the people who dressed in uniform annihilated the scene, putting an outright stop to the madness that occurred, forestalling future procreation from the participants, my heart shriveled and I gasped for air, I ran aimlessly into a town that was lively and sunny, as I saw mankind playing sports, clubbing, riding nice convertibles, homes were futuristic, plants were vegetated, smiles and giggles were infectious, everyone was cheerful and amused enjoying this utopian I discovered, it was care-free, as folks walked in suit and ties, formal dresses, luggages entering and exiting, dialect as clear as caribbean sea, friendly animals chaperoned by their owner, "where am I?", "what was this strange but yet interesting soil I embark on?", ..... I don't know, but it closes me in like a maze and I'm forced to live as they.
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 4:12 PM UTC
Today I learnt that after the Big Bang,
there was antimatter,
the mirror image of matter.
Antimatter and matter
destroyed each other when they met,
thus they annihilated everything in their path,
and the universe was left almost empty.
And I thought about how your touch
against my skin,
brought the same catastrophic destruction.
And the universe inside of me,
was left in pieces,
only to be visible through
vacant eyes and
unfinished poetry.
In your wake, you left pieces of you
embedded into my skin,
jagged scars of memories
I tried to claw out of my bones.
You tore at my skin with your spitting words
yet I held you close during your goodbye.
*"We are opposite poles of a world
I long to know."*
You were beautiful,
and I was never
brilliant enough.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
***Fundamentals of madness
wraps the skin around my brain
miter'd head splits wide open,
like blue skies wanting to thunder
dark heart leapt out from under
blinded burnish'd eyes
world looks annihilated
from the validity of upside down
birds have severed vocal chords,
butterflies shed their wings
there's no dance left, aside from
ghost steps of a psychotic menacing waltz
& one dark raven hauntingly swaying***
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
No one born too far from Niedersachsen, said Oma,
ever quite captures their sing-song intonation.
Characterized by subtleties, like an umlauted vowel,
all non-native imitations sound inevitably as ******
as would a cry of “ello, guv’nah!” in a London coffee shop.
Her Plattdeutsch instincts neutered
by decades abroad, married to a son of Milwaukee,
her permanent, dormant longing for Salzgitter awakes only
to trigger hunger pangs of irreconcilable nostalgia
at the passing whiff of a Germantown bakery.
She taught me the word “sehnsucht” over lukewarm coffee
and a pause in our conversation: a compound word
that no well-intentioned English translation
could render faithfully.
It isn’t the same as just longing, she sighed— longing is curable.
Sehnsucht holds the fragments
of an imperfect world and laments
that they are patternless. How the soul
yearns vaguely for a home
remembered only in the residual ache
of incomplete childhood fancies;
futile as the ruins
of an ancient, annihilated people.
How life’s staccato joys soothe
a heart sore from the world,
yet the existential hunger, gnawing
from the malnourished stomach
of the bruised human psyche, remains—
insatiable, eternal.
Long enough ago, a reasonably-priced bus ride away
from the red-roofed apartment in which she babbled her first words,
a kindly old man in a pharmacy asked her
about her peculiar, exotic accent. Once inevitably prompted
with the question of where she was from, she responded only
that she was a tourist off the beaten track.
And when I pointed out, to my immediate regret,
that she gets the same question back here in Ohio,
I realized then that, not once, has she ever referred to the way
the people of her pined-for hometown spoke
as though she had ever belonged to it.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
The golden rays are all on ****** green.
And here I sit in a fix:
‘Which mask to choose for today?’
A smile of pretence,
Or a frown of reality;
Don’t panic; I’m a Chameleon.
Then I chose the smile.
For the malice in me told so.
Cause I met you this morning,
And I couldn’t show you my true face.
I chose to pretend to my best.
And see; I was successful in fooling you.
And I’m Chameleon, you know.
I said I was ‘sorry’,
Wonder even my lips meant that?
I changed my color from black to white.
You seemed fine and there I succeed.
For the fire burning in me,
Ignited me each second;
No offence, I’m a Chameleon.
In the process to demolish you,
I had annihilated myself.
When I stood before the mirror,
I couldn’t identify myself.
On my way to success,
I was successful in becoming a monster.
I succeeded to fool myself, not you.
I know; I shouldn’t panic as I’m a chameleon.
While changing color so often, I was transformed into a beast.
But no regrets, I’m a chameleon.
I have masks to hide my ugly self.
Have numerous colors to change.
Have a simple sweet sorry to tell.
I’ll be me; a proud shameless Chameleon.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 8:44 AM UTC
The Spirit Has Given Us Wounds so that the flies may feast on us
The limit has been set by those who infest us with fallacy and hypocrisy.
Those who pull the strings so that they remain kings as their subjects decay.
Those who grab things which belong to all the African kings of today!
“Keep them in the dark, let them not see the goodness of light”, they say.
But I am the light of Africa and I will shine so bright to open up their eyes so that they may shine more than I shine
Africa is not poor, Africa is being looted
Africans are not poor, they are just being cheated.
Bribe is costing our lives as our corrupt leaders misuse our resources
People are dying as the leaders grow fat and untouchable.
Transparency and good governance seems unachievable
Discrepancies of unscrupulous activities surfaces whenever the media starts to deceive
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Our silence is tolerance to injustice and violence
They have violated our minds with their dead conscience.
They have desecrated our rights with their dead ignorance
We are all leaders lets dethrone these dealers
They have annihilated those who could bring change because of their arrogance
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Kufa nenyota makumbo arimumvura
Honai Baba isu tatambura
Kudya nhoko dzezvironda
Honai Ishe tauyaura
Siyahlupeka!!!!
Huyai mutinunure
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
Distort the message
Corrupt the masses
Falsify the knowledge
Blindfold the masses
Broad day sacrilege
Sacrifice those who speak out
To satisfy the deplorable desire
And insatiate the insatiable greed.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
You Leaders we erected you are smart...
Using our money to fund your reelection processes
As you feed us with promises which are nothing but lies
All the efforts your make are to meet the interests of your pockets
All the votes you take are to increase the weights of your accounts
You leaders we've elected you disgust.
Chorus
Our land and resources are enough to feed and clothes us all
But the land mourns and the waters are bitter because our hearts are sore.
What are we?
A race in need because of those who lead?
A curse on the face of the earth because of our creed?
We are a unique and immortal breed.
We are going to change our heads so that we succeed.
May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:11 AM UTC
Why do I choose to suffer my freedom?
Is it familiarity? A self-created religion?
I bind myself, to myself, using my own hands.
I struggle to look through my own fingers.
Is it because I can't see? Am I in a dream?
Where is the edge? Where is the seam?
I pretend to be distressed and myself believe
Its all I've ever known, the stories of someone.
I carry on, holding tight, writing more lies
A twisted ******* an inversion of life.
I catch glimpses of release, the gaps in my hands
Yet as soon as I forget, I go back in.
How can you fight something you've created?
How destroy the already annihilated?
Nothing but questions, answers are worthless.
Nothing makes sense, not even these verses.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
*
I drank YOUR SOUL
From your intoxicating eyes
I became dazzled by your beauty
I called YOU
"My BELOVEDz God/dess"
I became an INFIDEL LOVERZ
As an INFIDEL what I will say now
Will remain as "THE TRUTH"
Because a LOVER on cross
Sacrificed for LOVE
Never utters a LIE,
Only narrates the Sacred Word
Of The Creator All-Mighty
My BELOVEDz existence is
Like hundred SUN shining
The whole world is
annihilated by her illumination
The one who stands on feet,
Without fear or without being scared
The one who faces
The inner LIGHT of BELOVEDz Noor
Becomes an INFIDEL LOVER
Ready to face the cross and crucifixion
Vulnerable, shy, shrunk,
Surrendered and cut to pieces
The infidel LOVER will not run away but
Stand firm to the POST to claim
The INFIDEL cries for "BELOVEDZ"
"I am BELOVEDz, BELOVEDz is me"
Sword, arrows, enemies of LOVE
Attacks, sticks, punches, strikes
Shocks, cut, blade, beatings
Scars, bloods, limbs and pieces
And the INFIDEL dies
Just like that... with
**"BELOVEDz breathe rested in
INFIDEL LOVERz half-open eyes"**
Watching this spectator of
ENDLESS ETERNAL AGAPE LOVE
The world's anger against INFIDEL
Flows away like a small twig
They realize that
Cutting a LOVERz into pieces
With humiliations and weapons
Was of no use
Because they realize that
They not only killed an INFIDEL
But also killed LOVE and humanity
*
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 12:45 AM UTC
We don’t know whether every angel carries out the same tasks, or whether some of them specialize in certain areas. The Bible does speak about classes of angelic beings like cherubim (Ezekiel 1) and seraphim (Isaiah 6). We also know the names of two notable angels: Michael (Daniel 10:13; Jude 9) and Gabriel (Daniel 9:21; Luke 1:19,26).
The unnamed angels who appear most often in Scripture carry out a variety of tasks - all designed to serve God…
Worship and praise - This is the main activity portrayed in heaven (Isaiah 6:1-3; Revelation 4-5).
Messengers - They serve as messengers to communicate God’s will to men. They helped reveal the law to Moses (Acts 7:52-53), and served as the carriers of much of the material in Daniel, and Revelation.
Guiding - Angels gave instructions to Joseph about the birth of Jesus (Matthew 1-2), to the women at the tomb, to Philip (Acts 8:26), and to Cornelius (Acts 10:1-8).
Providing - God has used angels to provide physical needs such as food for Hagar (Genesis 21:17-20), Elijah (1 Kings 19:6), and Christ after His temptation (Matthew 4:11).
Protecting - Keeping God’s people out of physical danger, as in the cases of Daniel and the lions, and his three friends in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3 and 6).
Delivering - Getting God’s people out of danger once they’re in it. Angels released the apostles from prison in Acts 5, and repeated the process for Peter in Acts 12.
Strengthening and encouraging - Angels strengthened Jesus after His temptation (Matt 4:11), encouraged the apostles to keep preaching after releasing them from prison (Acts 5:19-20), and told Paul that everyone on his ship would survive the impending shipwreck (Acts 27:23-25).
Answering prayer - God often uses angels as His means of answering the prayers of His people (Daniel 9:20-24; 10:10-12; Acts 12:1-17).
Caring for believers at the moment of death. In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, we read that angels carried the spirit of Lazarus to “Abraham’s ***** when he died (Luke 16:22).
Executioners - Angels are sometimes used by God to punish sin. An angel of the Lord went forth and smote an Assyrian camp (2 Kings 19:20-34) “behold, they were all dead corpses.” The Assyrian army was annihilated. A destroying angel was sent, but later withheld, to punish David for his vanity in taking a census of the great number of his people. At the time of Moses and the Exodus, the Egyptian firstborn where killed by an angel of death.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
*Lying in the ground, entangled,
lost in a thoughtless trance-
there is no need to hide,
I shut my eyes.
Seduced by the sight of color,
persuasive in its attempt to bridge us together.
We are lured in,
there are no promises,
no spectre of thought.
Remind me its today.
The cold ground beneath,
carrying the weight of my tender heart,
unshackled by the grip of your starving hands; touch me.
Your hand slowly slip under my skirt,
pulling down my sweet intimate.
A sensational rapture,
—loud as the clouds,
a maddening sound.
Envelop the day like a tension film
--desperate to penetrate the savage sun,
Foolish, undoubtedly foolish.
serenade me under the shade, my little fire.
I could hardly breathe.
I suffer sweetly in your hands,
helpless, glued to the ground, frustrated,
annihilated by the movement of your hand,
those fumbling fingers tracing my delicate skin...
I weep your name, my darling !
I hear the world’s lust,
clandestine eyes watching us,
Ignorant of the world were in.
Ignorant of the world I’m in,
drowning in your gaze-
I witness the world’s miracle-
Its electric than the pinnacle.
my sweet teeth.
what a sentimental thrill to be close to you this way-
gnarling, exposed for the taking.
You go deeper,
reach higher,
my toes curling,
body reluctantly surrender,
hands crawl,
knees start to shudder,
eyes start to water, I cant move.
do you hear me my lover?
I'm begging, whispering,
but this time for more.
blind me again, and again, and again.
I kiss you gently, roughly, then all at once.
The sun boiling at the palm of my hands,
holding me down in prayer,
my screams start to clutter,
body start to simmer,
lights start to flicker,
I keep my eyes shut.
I no longer need reminding.
Keep me alive in this place.*
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC
The Pill
Called up big Pharma,
Sad and depressed,
I told them straight out:
Dudes, I need a new karma.
*NO problem they cheerfully replied,
(later I wondered, which pill they were on)
We custom make, haute couture, drug-design,
Mood enhancers, in little canisters,
You need only supply the cash and the system vascular!
Your soul's desire?
To be a better wilder, rambler,
Or a life calmer, better anchored?*
I know what I want, exactly,
A pill that removes
Specific words
From the frontal lobe temple
Verbal storage center.
*NO problem! (so cheery it was kinda scary)
Which words would you like to have
Exorcised, annihilated, irradiated, confiscated?*
I list from below, from side to side,
Let not one be denied,
Bury them all in nether-lands,
Swamp them under mountains of
Granite and sand,
Banish them from my lexicon.
How much do you charge?
But one dollar per word.
The list I emailed complete,
Herein I reprint.
Scars Pain Wound Strain Torture Anguish
Disfigure Damage Mar Mutilate Maim Blemish Deface Damage Ruin Distress
Afflict Trouble Wound Torment Agonize Sad Suffer Sting Throb
Torture Torment Despair Suffer Distress Hurt Vex Trouble
Ache Hurt Misery Woe Bitterness Misery Agony Bitter
Heartache Afflict Hurt Cut Loathing Shatter Broken
Alone Bleed Struggle Self-destruct Monster
Nightmare Cornered Darkness Horror
Loner Confused Goodbye Suicide
Slash Cut Desolate Submerge
Dissipate Dead Stinking
Enough.
Awaiting my concoction sweet,
When an answer they begat,
A response forthcoming, indeed was snubbing!
**Dear Sir/Madam,
We regret to inform you that we are unable to manufacture
Said item. Removal of these words would be a violation of
Federal Poetry Laws.
Sadly yours,
Big Pharma
P.S. Are you the author of "Yo! Yo! Warning: the government is reading your poetry! (Metadata Mining This Site) on HP?"**
P.P.S. Please do not contact us anymore.
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 1:53 PM UTC
I am indomitable, untouchable
I am wrath embodied
The rage of the downtrodden made flesh
Nothing will stand in my way
Their corpses torn apart by my hands
Their blood soaked into the soil
I have wrought destruction upon them
And brought ruin to their hearth
They dared to provoke me
To spit upon me when I was weak
And what was sown
They have reaped
I am the berserker
Blood streams from my wounds
The horde overwhelms me
Yet I refuse to be defeated
I smash through their lines
A roar ripping from my throat
As I rend my enemies asunder
And cover myself in their gore
I see terror in their eyes
As they see the blood frenzy in mine
I lay waste to all who oppose me
And still it is not enough
My lust for battle can not be sated
It will not be satisfied
Until I have annihilated them
Until I have erased every trace of them
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 9:08 AM UTC
-
You were the inspiration behind everything I would desire
like Embers, I was once discovered by your fire
In my darkest hours you'd always give me reason,
like wildfires in unexpected seasons
Every part of me learned to radiate,
ecstatically exposed to all your burning states
Then came the day I turned into dust,
and like a volcano you annihilated my trust
I was the property of a ****** arsonist,
and starting fires is how his wickedness vents
It's hard to fathom that this started with little ignition,
because it grew so fast into a vicious obsession
I asked you to stop smoking that day and it wasn't because I was simply sick of it,
I just hated the fact that I saw myself in your half dead-cigarette
-
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
The voices inside her head its where her demons hide
time is paralyzed and she catches her breath
where there is a flames someone’s bound to get hurt the
blade as the brush with slowly skimming on the canvas
the crimson paint will steadily dribble down the pale canvas
she has a story to her hazy existence and if she is to let her walls come
down, the inside wall be annihilated by shallowness and cruelty
in the past she was isolated so she covered her feelings with a tight
smile, she goes through life aching with eternal agonizing pain
there is no one to have faith in if one shall live on this sadistic earth
no one is there to be her superhero before the hour has come,
before it is too late, the spell must be broken
before it all scatters on the floor; before it goes boom; before
it drains out on the white floor; before the stool is pushed away; before it
thuds in the city lights; before it makes a splash in the navy pool of salt;
before those gray eyes shut completely, exiting the world
just before it is too late
but wait, are those five guys, running towards her? They are quite
unnoticeable, who can they be?
These boys saved her life before the time has come
they are her saviors, they understood the grief
for she is thankful and
they are in her heart, and she is in their hearts, engraved
forever
a.a
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
I. The Fireflies
There was once
a time when the fireflies
had made a home out of me.
One evening,
long after the sun
had surrendered itself
to the hazed horizon
and the pregnant moon,
they had come to my window,
golden freckles of light
twinkling playfully
in the dimness.
What exactly
prompted their gravitation
towards me,
I will never be entirely certain of,
though I have my theories.
Maybe it was the
warm glass of milk
sitting on my bedside table.
Or maybe
they had simply mistaken
the peppers of stardust
laced atop my eyelashes
for their own kin.
Or perhaps–
and most likely–
it had been
the murmur of poetry
on my lips:
…watch how they dart about the trees
in whimsical harmony,
how they rise up towards the dark sky
in the hopes that, someday,
they too will become one with
the constellations that blink
so brilliantly in the blackness.
Yes,
Perhaps this what had captivated them so–
a homage to the fireflies themselves.
Perhaps this is
why they had drifted towards me,
as if in some fanciful trance,
weightless as paper lanterns.
And how sweet they were
as they twirled about the ringlets
in my hair and
nuzzled their small frames
against my cheek
and fingertips.
How sweet they were–
that is,
until the bees came.
II. The Bees
They made lightning bugs
of my fireflies,
whose soft luminescence was replaced
with a violent stream of sparks,
one resembling something close
to the bursting of a fluorescent bulb
And so came the lightning,
the firefly’s only defence against
the approaching swarm,
their only ammunition
in the impending battle:
fireflies versus
bees,
both in want
of my nectared
marrow.
But the lightning
was no reasonable match
for the bees,
with their
large, gelatinous figures
and the persistence
of their stabbings;
annihilated were the fireflies,
carcasses crumbling to soot,
their innards,
still glowing,
smeared across my collarbone
like war paint.
Victorious and
humming menacingly,
the bees then crawled
into my ears
and my mouth
where they proceeded
to feast on their spoils and plunders:
the honey,
that they so cruelly
stole from me.
And once the honey was gone,
so were the bees,
bellies full,
antennae sticky,
their use for me
fulfilled and therefore
discarded.
III. The Spiders
The final hosts
were drawn to
what the bees had left behind:
the inconsolable emptiness
of my being,
They marked their territory
with cobwebs–
spun carelessly
into my arteries
and windpipe.
Breath dwindling and
heartbeat diminishing
I tried to remember the fireflies–
the light–
as the arachnophobia
threatened to devour me.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC