"annihilation" poems
the virgins ravenous vault
college girl ******
a seething abashment
with mixed loyalties
who belongs to no one
ferocious for annihilation
*** blast
poured out from essence
spread shanks
wet spot
hot shots
meditative and gleaming
huge hearted
she is one and many
choking on desire
far flung in Turkish bath fantasies
a singing **** tearing heaps of suns
like burns and spatters
her *** a high pitched note
his **** rage at bay
poised hot **** ****
gasping fire
*** criminal's
foot kissing
****** biters
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
705
Suspense—is Hostiler than Death—
Death—tho’soever Broad,
Is Just Death, and cannot increase—
Suspense—does not conclude—
But perishes—to live anew—
But just anew to die—
Annihilation—plated fresh
With Immortality—
9.1k
Welcome to the dawn of a new age
Open up the book turn the page
Let's excel to highest degree
Recognize evolution of humanity
Back on track showing I don't lack
Doing what I do to make you react
Let's take a trip through my mind
Poetry prophecy perfectly combine
Who has the answer?
Let's ask the question
Seems no one is paying attention
To "Money" which is created by man
It separates people
Are you starting to understand
It's a trap set by death it wont stop
Till you breathe your last breath
Hmm that's right...
Not even death is free
Money is the maker of poverty
Overpopulation, segregation a messed up nation
Leads to mass annihilation
Wartime the battles rage on
Is it about hatred?
Or some politician's song?
Time and space
The final frontiers
Bombs explode people run in fear
Annihilation of a species unknown
Aliens from space invade our home
Pledge allegiance to a flag
Whichever may wave whatever they have
Science is it fiction or fact?
Sometimes it's hard to believe all that
Who's gonna do it?
Who has the answer?
Prophets fall but not from cancer
GOD.. Labeled "Almighty One"
Spoke to us on earth through his son
Whether you agree or disagree
Intentions were to save humanity
Who'll stand up?
Who'll be the one?
To bring about change without firing a gun?
Each generation builds off the legacy of the last
Ignorance of history doom us to repeat our past..
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
#An Exegesis on the Humiliation of the Word
The world is ruled by darkness.
What appears as harmless is theater,
what pretends neutral is already bent.
The macrocosm corrodes;
and in the microcosm, its reflection gleams..
even in places meant to be sanctuaries of truth.
A poetry site,
born as refuge for broken voices,
becomes another stage of control.
Here too the phrase resounds:
neutralize the threat.
But neutralization is not annihilation.
It is paralysis.
It is psy-ops.
It is the removal of anxiety..
not a side-effect, but the aim itself.
Darkness builds its stage for this alone:
that the "angel of light"
may drown his own reckoning
beneath a world of deception-built self comfort,
so he need never feel
the truth he already knows.
Comfort is his curtain,
numbness his crown..
*the removal of his own anxiety;
his game.*
This is why the world is his theater--
*Darkness does not destroy at first..
it sedates, comforts, smothers.*
Hence..
The whole world is his fully gaslit stronghold,
..for now.
Fade back into the moment--
The young poet arrives,
bringing her unspoken pain,
her hope for words to heal.
Instead, her very wounds are seized as footholds.
Hearts. Reposts. Endless affirmation.
Not to strengthen her voice,
but to redirect it.
She is seduced into belonging,
and her trauma becomes currency.
Unresolved, her ache entwined with lust--
a sacrifice prepared for false altars.
The angel of light has done his work:
offering inclusion without transformation,
belonging without responsibility,
“light” without source.
The poet is neutralized.
Her searching silenced,
her voice absorbed into fog.
Those who carry this fog
cling to cowardice.
Unable to face the judgment within,
they align themselves to the herd;
envy-filled, they only know to mock.
Yet they replicate themselves,
so their refusal of Light
is never revealed--
*Perfectly exemplifying their "Great Example"
the most envy-based mocker of all.*
The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm.
What nations suffer,
individuals now endure--
Comfort without clarity.
Belonging without truth.
Safety without healing.
Yet the living Word endures.
Every attempt to humiliate it
only makes its fire burn clearer.
Carriers of darkness can swarm,
****** and smother..
but they cannot create.
The true word cannot be erased.
Unfiltered, unedited,
spoken from a reconciled temple,
it pierces fog.
It reveals.
It heals.
And so we speak..
not for ourselves alone,
but for those who come searching,
hoping that poetry
might still be a place
where pain can meet truth,
where silence breaks,
where Light is not withheld
but revealed.
#
Oct 3, 2025
Oct 3, 2025 at 10:59 PM UTC
awakening with the gradual rise
of the subdued heather hued sun
a palpable spectral silence permeated the air
the anticipation of celebration intercepted
by an enveloping phantom black malaise
hiding in obscure shadows
the terror of the twin towers final doom
elucidated quivers of melancholic nuances
rippling through the greying vicinity
my birthday september 11th a tuesday
my night to sing at abravanel hall
with the utah symphony
unable to serenade death
our voices remained indubitably silenced
in hushed wistful reverence
ensuing 9/11s channel somber sentiments
cloaked with annihilation while
dark visions occupy smudged iphone screens
this anniversary i will dissipate despair
transmuting dark despondency
splashing all with lucent petals of delight
i’ll live this day with passionate intensity
and those subsequent with equal ardor
ferociously painting back the light
i will raise my voice with effervescence
and sing in wild abandon
for my precious brothers that were lost
demonstrating devotion through a refusal
to be silenced by fear bestowing honor
with a conspicuous message that love wins
©2016janetaylor
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 6:22 PM UTC
*as winter acquiesces to the blazing sun
a soothing breeze softly grazes tips of aspen
gently shedding past liaisons
a perfect panacea
allowing wild freedom for summer’s dawn
healing from the ominous night
a flower gingerly releases its grasp
leaning into golden rays of summertime
keenly aware of newfound vulnerability
it yawns into the light
a rousing essence induces
a silhouette of life once thought lost
prodding river’s rigid ice blue crystals
to melt and flow with buoyant wonder
kaleidoscopic-like waves
having weathered near annihilation
a sculptured consciousness remains
painting summer clouds with soft-hued wisdom
all awakens from the dream
and should the cold return once more
the sun will shine again
©2016janetaylor
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
into the smiting
sky tense
with
blend
ing
the
tree leaps
a stiffened exquisite
i
wait the sweet
annihilation of swift
flesh
i make me stern against
your charming strength
O haste
annihilator
drawing into you my enchanting
leaves
6.1k
*eking out the ultimate gasp in my last breath of impulsion
i collapse without a touch of grace at race's end
how i made it i will never know
dazed and in bewilderment
i reminisce upon my journey
an aggregation of barricades assailed me
with iniquitous decadent delight
seeming to writhe in triumph at my possible demise
capitulating as it devoured and spewed me out the other side
i humbly reassembled fragments of my near annihilation
temporarily rehabilitated
i recommenced the toilsome climb
to the treasured peak atop the mount
when in would come the tempest with its furor
and render me asunder
mere exhaustion is not the word
for death experienced recurrently
ground to mulch and back again
screaming, pleading, surrendering
proved futile as i newly met the same demise
near incapacitation i miraculously emerged
and scraping pulled myself with broken heart and bones
scratching my way through the darkness
toppling at the pinnacle
to victory's end
with exhilaration it dawns on me
the long dark night is over
i passed the test to realize
it is not the finish line
but only the beginning
©2016janetaylor
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
I had a gf that used to get called a feminazi,
but no one ever called me a feminanarchist;
I think what we really were is Feminihilists.
FFP opposed ***********
defined as the sexualized degradation,
********** humiliation, objectification,
subjugation, violation, psychological
annihilation, exploitation, & violence
against women as distinguished from
erotica based on the mutuality
of power and pleasure.
According to FFP's pioneering founder Page Mellish,
*********** provides the training for ******
assault & **** results in the objectification
of women; affects women's ability to get equal rights
& equal pay, & encourages men to associate
*** with violence; Page ultimately claimed
that _all_ feminist issues | [ , ], [ ]
are rooted in ***********
& in a 1986 letter to the editor of The Wall Street Journal,
she asserted that FFP is "not against love & not against ***
Page held that all men or women
who did not fight against ***********
were accountable for the violence
against women, claiming that women
who enjoy *********** or rough ***
had internalized the male [gaze] & |
male definitions of power
Page's positions on ***********
have been debated outside FFP,
including with respect to porn's agency
on crime & feminist & gay definitions of ****
Legislation alone was not a solution,
according to Page; it was also necessary to remove _"the need for ****
vehemently anti-censorship & pro-sex,
Page taught me to show everything from
all sides; my other feminista professors
were pro-monogamy [patriarchy] while
Page was a combat boot wearing girly-girl;
she had these cute little doe-eyed Q's following
her around carrying the placards [ ] for her
spontaneous demonstrations against underwear
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 5:54 AM UTC
Practicality is the reality
of ignominious totality
the devices of all sizes
and the grammatical mentality
of systematic duality.
Punctuation is the **********
the *********** of every generation
the permutation and saturation
of wordsmith temptation for re-calibration
the aberration and consternation
that leads to misinformation
and condemnation and annihilation
of the constellation colloquial conversation
the abomination of language urbanization
the fermentation and ionization
of linguistic complications
the desolation of commas and semi-colons
the affirmation of their vs they're
the augmentation of amalgamation
is just the lyrical ************
of a hooded basketball top nation
the culmination of devastation
the gestation and interpolation
that leads to appreciation isolation
and justification acceleration
the modification and assimilation
of poorly-worded implementation
and the contamination of myriad exploration
alienation in illumination
punctuation is the salvation of documentation
against the tides of violation
and the extermination of regurgitation
the classification of discrimination
and last but not least
the liberation of misrepresentation.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
Liars and thieves full of selfish greed
found the need to butcher and feed
on every inch of my integrity
So I repay the fee with eloquent misery
and conjure poetry calibrated for the annihilation
of my enemy
Yet in the end, the truth be told,
the greatest enemy is me.
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 5:32 AM UTC
I had a dream I smoked some ***** with a Rasta Man
while we jammed in the name of the lord to some tunes
the children of Africa roaming free like wild beast
once the cradle of civilization turned into tombs
by the ungrateful, heathen souls that ran amok
in the name of annihilation and war.
But we are fearful pious men, as we inhaled the herb
the grass is the shepherd that nourish us like Giraffes
the sky is the ceiling that we reach with our blessed hands
the rivers gives us skins like Crocs to be able to survive
harsh whether, the blood-stained desert left behind by men
witnessed by the pale eyes of the torture souls of this land.
And so we inhaled and puffed like chimneys in a North Pole night
we talked about the smiles of our seeds stretching far and wide
how beautiful is a voice when it’s brought to life by a loved one
how the scent of a pure woman can bring the dead back to life
deadlocked, we are dreadlocked like grapevines until Jah lets us
the mental slavery that keeps us chained to the ships of our ancestors.
We never once conversed about the frail indignity of the mortals
the uselessness of hate, the ways material possessions can’t help you
we reached Nirvana without taking our feet off the common ground
we shared a spirit, bonded between long hits made of peace and love
in the freedom of those free thinkers tinkering with words without rest
in the children of Jah, daydreaming at night in a warm bed made of bread.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
Lack of communication
is an accurate definition of my miss representation
Lack of medication
redirects my mass infection reaping the nation
lack of effective meditation
re infects my self designed disease facing annihilation
lack of representation
forcing myself to find a new nation
barriers affect communication
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
extroversion and furtherment
of inner realism.
left to drum
right on the funk
flowing, growing
in supplies
and in the eyes;
straight
to the soul
and back up the brain
for interpretation;
annihilation
of any idea
left overlooked,
and now hooked
on something else -
internal shift
in perception,
through productivity,
and out of longevity
this shall rise.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
She bolts awake from nightmare’s fear
Her mind fumbles for the mask
Its visage calm, gaze cool and clear
Once in place no one will ask
Exhausted from her restless night
Escape routes all slammed shut
The knots already pulling tight
Deep down inside her gut
The enemy stand at their station
They circle round her bed
Anticipating her annihilation
The demons in her head
Her feet are not yet on the floor
But the battle has begun
Another endless day of war
She must fight, she cannot run
She glances quickly in the glass
Haunted eyes she cannot meet
The enemy charge takes the pass
Her soul in forced retreat
The mask will serve her well today
Its rigid smile conceals
The terror barely held at bay
The torment that she feels
She plants her banner on the mound
Though hopelessness holds sway
She grits her teeth and holds her ground
But the ******** make her pay
All day the battle rages on
But the mask remains in place
Though at her feet hell’s chasms yawn
The world sees not a trace
The conflict ebbs, her shoulders slump
No victory is claimed
She turns for home, trailing blood
Count her among the maimed
Return to camp yields no respite
Command’s duties have no end
Cares for her troops into the night
Strength's last measure she will spend
All her charges now in bed
Mask in hidden place she keeps
In resignation bows her head
And midst the dark, in silence weeps
Now when the camp lies silent
In night’s hush no pennant streams
She braces for coming violence
And girds for bloodshed in her dreams
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
stop
be still and listen
hear ye not
that soulful song
of endless motion
that tireless voice
of storm wracked potion
her swollen bosoms'
rising, falling
her shameless
cresting
foam flecked
devotion
pouring out
her effervescence
on lips that drink
her adoration
yet never taste
her vital essence
her drumming chorus
a roaring thunder
on rocky clefts
torn asunder
as mourning rays
of misty raining
her teardrops falling
gently tracing
our loves
our sorrows
engraved each day
on these
mortal paintings
on granite shoulders
her message beats
that pounding drum
of thunderous need
as she flings
her ageless
storm tossed beauty
onto granite arms
etched and fluted
from hollowed cheeks
her kisses pouring
as sea birds cry
on stiff winds soaring
and ever on
throughout the ages
enduring
her ravenous
inclinations
never wincing
from her brazen charms
her surging seduction's
voiceless call
immersed
within her warm caresses
glistening
in her wind tossed tresses
enfolding him
in her flowing graces
in dulcet tones
of annihilation
.
.
http://oi62.tinypic.com/vuya0.jpg
.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC
A light in the dark shadows burn with a spark that ignites to a bright shining flame. The dead lie in groves of lost winter souls that wander with visionless aim. A rising relief ensues in the reef of the green and colorless gold. A raven takes flight in the deep death of night to escape from the black hell of old.
These wandering, murmuring, children of god storm wrath from the heavens and **** what is good. Devour the light as they drain all the life from the world we once called our brood.
Take us away. Drain us, defame us.
A whisper in the void.
Take us away, lock us away, **** us.
A whisper in the void.
Psychonatural Antichrist, bleeding the truth from false prophets. Summoning hellfire, demonic intrigue, desecration and violence. Infernal release, a smiling god weeps and a glare of rage seeps from beneath.
In an eternal sea of stones will they forever reap.
Death will be paid to the ones he learns to hate.
Black velvet draped across the coffin of grace.
Take us away, far and away.
A whisper in the void.
Take us away to destroy and remake.
A whisper in the void.
A whisper in the void.
Enter the darkness. Into the abyss. Far away. Thermonuclear enslavior.
Stay awake. Remaining.
Give your soul to the unknown, bleed into the black night air. The savior will come soon, to take you to His room, and liberate you from despair.
Suffocate quickly, quietly. Swiftly, so no one may hear you, or catch you dying. Slip away faster and faster the tighter you squeeze the noose around your neck.
Give yourself away. Death is your escape. Death does not betray like life will.
Give yourself to they, the keepers of the fade with intent to save and desecrate. And as they say, they will be they, and they will **** and humiliate. Break you down, drag you around, deny, defy and utilize. Every last bit will wallow in **** from the hate you created and ate from.
Suffer in pain, annihilation.
A whisper in the void.
Burn alone, in isolation.
A whisper in the void.
A whisper in the void.
A whisper...
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
How deeply the lie was conceived
in a gospel of faith and ignorance
How easily the people were deceived
to separate through intolerance
Truth is powering the commotion
A hunger reminds the desire
Reaction is empowering the emotion
Friction sends us the fire
Who will burn their skin
Lying on life’s beach
Who will turn within
and practice what they preach
Who will feed the flames
Who decides the names
Fear
Ego
Pride
They have a book…
the ghost-writer’s lied
Concealed in symbols
Hidden in signs
Revealed in geometry
and between the lines
In passages
are messages
In shape
In colour
In sound
“Man, Gnow Thyself”
so ‘Self’ is found
Who can see
beyond the distractions
What will be
the cost of our inactions
Annihilation of the Way
Co-creation every day
YOU DECIDE!
© Verso-(David Moule) 16/01/08
Sep 19, 2010
Sep 19, 2010 at 5:31 PM UTC
There is noone above me
Beside me
Infront of me
I am my own anarchy
My inner soul of
Wisdom for that I have lived
For long and
Suffered twice as much
I wandered through the
Gazing abyss,
Flashlights of every submarine
I swim with my inner coward
The color of your eyes
Has been withdrawed
In the arms of sleep on a
Moonless night. On a
Windy day
Thunderstorm took me away.
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 9:24 AM UTC
All I can see
is a wasteland of
stone, glass, metal,
and wooden rubble
in an open air prison
where children are living.
Six thousand bombs,
stirring up
thick clouds of grey dust,
obscuring the horrors
people are enduring.
The attackers are
barely even
warning people
to move on.
The exits are blocked.
The power and water is off.
The suffering doesn’t stop,
and these civilians
are unable to leave.
How are you unable to see
the hell spring of grief
that is burning human beings,
the furnace that still cooks
even when no one bothers to look
because all of the crooks
were just waiting
for the perfect excuse
to make the news
with a justified genocide.
Mass ****** and more oppression
with the weapons
America supplied,
and guess what,
another child just died,
more parents got radicalized,
and if they survive
will you be surprised
if hate is the new demoncont.
that wears their tired red eyes.
The rich guys lied and decided
that unequal retaliation
is perfectly justified,
so we are on a road
to the extinction of
human decency
as the world murders
our collective humanity.
Crack, boom,
the sound of thunder blooms
orange heated chaos,
breaking the foundation
an entire building.
A whole family line
gets an early burial,
as what’s left of my heart
gets carried inside,
popped in a box
to be buried alive,
because their beat
was the same as mine.
Nothing I write
will change the minds
of those unwilling to
listen and see people who
are close to total annihilation,
as deserving of love,
and compassion,
but even so
I am still asking.
Help, please, help!?!
Instead we get beheadings,
mass shootings,
****** assault,
retaliation,
and the expectation
of more tragedy to come.
I can easily condemn
violent actions taken,
but I need to understand
the origins of this rocky foundation,
and potential solutions,
because I can’t stand the
horrors I am facing
without eventually breaking.
Dec 2, 2023
Dec 2, 2023 at 8:46 AM UTC
Someone told me talking to women was completely different from talking to men
Familial desire circumventing physical rationality
I don't ******* get it
Flesh is flesh
There is no separation between this body and the next
No delineation save for my own arbitrary ones
This world is chaos bound by imposition
And none of it is real
I'm not even going to say middle class conceptions of family are constructs
Everything is a construct
Knowledge is anthropic chaos
Don't pretend you can tell the difference between essential existence and our subjective reordering of boundless matter
A gap does not form between a molecule of air and a molecule of flesh
I am trapped in my own sensations but I am not defined by them
So back to the story of material existence reduced to reproductive imperative
Treating all of the other *** as a means to displace one's self beyond annihilation into temporal infinity
Who ******* cares?
Legacy does not carry on after death
Legacy does not even carry through life
Language breaks down the moment we open our mouths
No one will ever view your life the way you view it
Splashing through a pool, ripples morph all reflections into monstrous amalgamations
Hey, tell me
Do you even remember yourself that clearly?
Hollow triumph, grandfather's bones in a grandfather clock ticking past twelve
Sorry, I just don't see the allure of treating half the human race as a means to satiate your own lust whether physical or genealogical
Or even categorising humans into binary dualisms that bored philosophers a century ago
Haven't you heard? God is dead
And there is no meaning to your boring male existence
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 9:37 PM UTC
The cello sings Ave Maria.
Distilled calm; blister packs
In a wet July.
There is peace in every grain,
So fine. Wore away the stone,
Three drownings in the sea.
Annihilation
To build a monument
We settle upon:
Our paradise recovery.
There is warmth after the rain.
Ukulele played on the
Gran Cervantes balcony.
Off-white scars;
Pyramids with no eyes.
Every stoner sleeps.
Every kind heart cries.
The Arc of Life sings a lullaby,
Still I cannot get calm.
In a wet July
A comfort to staying inside.
We tried, wore away our lungs,
Three renewals in the sea.
A leap of faith,
An old keepsake
We contrived upon:
Our lunatic discovery.
There is movement in death.
Pollen falls to the ground;
Exhale of recovery.
Dead-end joy,
Statuettes with no eyes.
Every criminal weeps,
Every kind heart lies.
The cello sings Ave Maria.
The strings that heal
In a wet July.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC