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"belladonna" poems
On the surface I look like an American But I've always felt I've always known That deep down inside I am Italian! •• For the sake of continuity I'll still write as Jeffrey Robin But I am now SIGNIOR  GIOVANNI FRANCESCO BELLADONNA DE LA BAD *** DUDE! (Oh yeah I'm Italian Mafiosa!) •• I feel liberated! PURE •• Oh yeah. There's one more thing You know how I'm always writing these highly sensitive intelligent poems? Well I've looked deep down inside myself and realized that this isn't me! Deep down inside I AM AN IDIOT! A FOOL! •• Out of the closet! At last! Free! •• This is the first poem I've written reflecting my newer Truer Status! •• •• Let us romp together joyously To the DEATH CAMPS. Beyond the Hills!
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Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
Coming out of the closet
Werewolf stood in front of a puddle. Four inches deep. Maybe. Werewolf looked away. Stickers. Graffiti. Flem’s Revenge Live Tonight! The Nifty Nymphos April 24th. Ballz Deep featuring **** Matikz and Tremaine The Truest. I’m a long way from Cologne, he thought. Werewolf knelt towards the puddle. The wet filth smelled of hot blood. Exceptionally hot blood, rather. He spat in the puddle and turned. One thousand drunk humans. Ten thousand more, asleep, above. Not misunderstood. Cursed. It’s a very different sadness. Alexander’s Feast ended. Rounding out his latest playlist - Bashfully Baroque. Werewolf checked the time. Less than an hour. He buzzed a buzzer. I’m here for the Devil’s Cherries. The What? The, ahem, Devil’s Cherries. He’s cool. Let him in. And just like that, he was let out. A line was forming for Flem’s Revenge. While a bright moon reflected in Werewolf’s puddle. Werewolf shouldered through. Cursed. Clutching his score.
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Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 1:19 PM UTC
Belladonna
Penelope Cruz Used to muse On the use Of oversized microwave ovens In the covens Of Barcelona. Give them their due They know how to imbue Broomsticks with fresh belladonna!
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Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Penelope Cruz On The Idiosyncratic Use Of Broomsticks
a bottle of scotch had bad dreams. bullets twitch, junk sick in 3 inch thick mustard **** toe nails clipped from yeti lay strewn about the **** stained corpse of a motel six dixie cup - root canal trophy, next to a black fez with scab tassel upended. down in it. belching apnea propaganda and belladonna waiting for curious george to find a shotgun and a yellow hat and a brick banana. blowflies inhale the rank damp of a fresh **** the odd dog whines like a clown in - a blender. [ the ] house wins with a marked card; jabbing fat fingers into acned rosacea bloated with sleep lack and mortgage back stab chasing twenty ****** with a hollow point pull from an acid flask while hailing a black cab. tinsel sutures stitch eyelids as a mercy shattered bone knit hand-grenade cozies old glory, at half mast half wasted fifty stars, no light dragging on the grounds of immunity to do a line of coke stock with a basset hounds' finesse. your taxes at work in columbia, hiding from a lost farm in Idaho your american dream turning tricks in shanghai for a counterfeit egga roll your meme, devoid like an ice cube tombstone your freedom, parking cars for italian escorts smoking skin flutes for ferraris and white teeth. your integrity, sold to a hedge fund for astroglide and a pez dispenser packed with prozac pressed by ' Jose the butcher' s abuela in a narco slum that ain't seen radio since cinder blocks had wings.
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Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
Black Cab Charybdis
O make me a mask and a wall to shut from your spies Of the sharp, enamelled eyes and the spectacled claws **** and rebellion in the nurseries of my face, Gag of dumbstruck tree to block from bare enemies The bayonet tongue in this undefended prayerpiece, The present mouth, and the sweetly blown trumpet of lies, Shaped in old armour and oak the countenance of a dunce To shield the glistening brain and blunt the examiners, And a tear-stained widower grief drooped from the lashes To veil belladonna and let the dry eyes perceive Others betray the lamenting lies of their losses By the curve of the **** mouth or the laugh up the sleeve.
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4.5k
O Make Me A Mask
You should know You're just a temporary fix She's a **** An obscured partial eclipse She runs and hides Behind a mask of addictive scripts She's the game You just feel good against her melanin You should know She's incoherently captivating She's a naked lady Amaryllis Belladonna Poisonous and pink She'll hit a switch you can't describe Concurrently splitting your spine Yet enhancing the fruits of your mind She's a **** And you're just a temporary fix Where she lives Love does not exist
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Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 5:24 PM UTC
She
She is a gypsy queen My queen Who sees sadness in my eyes And falls in love She is on the road And in the stars Hanging over me as clouds Shining over me as suns She is a gypsy queen Belladonna A femme fatale fatally stricken And falling further She lives by her own rules And in her dreams Where our bodies intertwine And in our hearts We both know We know it well Nothing last forever Not even pain I wondered if she could love But I know she does Even love that is ending Never dies She fell in love With the sadness in my eyes And broke her own rules To see me smile
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May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 2:02 AM UTC
Gypsy Queen
A grimoire of nuptials apporting The implored cadaverous knight Securing obsequious omens Stirring the sleeping metals of Chaste belladonna, glistening Elf-locks entangled with Hellweed Vowing until the golden bowl is broken Clasping the devils paintbrush promising Before the garrulous black mass Leering upon Vulcans mirror Cursing the covenant of faithfulness With a moonstone band Evoking a vixens wedding Sealing with Adams holy ale Their oath as the belfry rings Resounding admist white sepulchre. ELEETE J MUIR.
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Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 9:00 AM UTC
Soul Knotting
She was my own Atropos. Eyes dark like belladonna's berry. Her breath gave me life, Her shears were slowly closing. I waited every night for Atropa Belladonna, But flowers only bloom by day. I knew that she could never be Mine only...my Deadly Nightshade. So I let her go. By day, she is another's. But only 'til the midnight hour... When I am hers and she is mine. And the night is forever ours.
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Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
Atropa Belladonna
"You tempt in me…so much… a sparrow...a lamb… a tenderness… and the captive heart… that beats against my palm… the bonds…. of trust.. surrendered" to the silver nepenthe of your voice, stricken upon the thick red heart I've pinned to a map, See, it emits grace beneath the molten glass, strung through harp strings and stretched as sutures ,the solemn musculature of ecstasy bound in golden ropes and belladonna dreams, Let the white darts fall where they may This silence belies the song in my throat, hovering like a silver bauble, your face is dark, back-lit, harbouring the terror of words that burn... My heart holds the cinder of secrets, and little poison idols of hematite and gooseflesh... Our dream box collects its damp light from the dark corners of our prison, as you coax a banyan tree from its arousal... A totem filled with marzipan, and trembling, but to split its lip upon glass cages, wrought with jade... Hold the sparrow face-up, let the furrow of its wings, tempt the fates, as it sings to the same scythe that chimes against the dead angles of the soul's crucified geography....
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
Byzantine Flower
Everyday that dawns, you slip away a little more. The distant stare, the apathetic eyes. Your love is as dead as the roses in the trash. Your heart is an abyss that I'm lost in forever. Belladonna drew me in. The poison kept me there.
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Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 11:41 AM UTC
Belladonna
To swim the slimy seas the ocean o’er And gag upon the rank and rotten air Filthy with sailor’s curse and foulest swear In search of lost and dearly loved Lenore, To open up the inner sanctum’s door And call (in tongues unfit for holy prayer) Clammy Cthulhu forth from out his lair, Will be to me most pleasant evermore. And like a count who shuns the light of day And moves by candlelight in chilly gloom, Or a black witch that wears a sacred bloom Of belladonna on her breast alway, I live where the scarecrow spies the blackbird’s lark: I live within the cold and rainy dark. O.O
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC
The Cold and Rainy Dark
tonight, something a little stronger than poison runs through my veins it festers, intangible, pretty like belladonna, sweet like nightshade it sways in the wind of my lungs, it has it's own tune you see. i know it's a plague, like him, we've all been infected once. tonight, it's angry, venomous, gardens of deep rose and happiness returns to being but a distant, wavering sun.
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Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 5:36 PM UTC
Chaos Theory
She spits fire Stands strong Feet planted: No mercy Unyielding She is belladonna She is the femme fatale She is unattainable And she revels it that. Solitude lends itself to sweet dreams and optimism Without the threat of slowing down Without the weight of children's bodies Without the teeth and claws of responsibility Sinking soul-shudderingly deep Into her body Or so she tells herself When faced with her Swarms of unhappy thoughts Gnat-like they flutter Around her head But she will not let them in Because that is vulnerability That is admitting weakness That is being human And she will never admit her hamartia
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
Perfectionism
we take long drags of each others skin, the addiction comes in phases. day 1: my lungs sigh, weary, air does not satisfy, day 2: we're chasing lifelines, that are rusted and in vain day 5: bad habits are hard to break, beg, at the holy altar of our mistakes day 8: hands desperate, clammy, unfurl like belladonna palms. day 9: i hope your vocal cords strain, that the only word you can bear to say is 'stay'. day 11: last breaths muffled in the graveyard of a kiss. day 17: darling, i'm losing track of time day 28: i'm finding it a little bit hard to quit.
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
marlboro baby
it's not you it's not you i'm not sorry. cotton candy kisses valentine candies forgive me not poison chocolates forget me not this bloodlust is driving me crazy maybe I'll be a ****** baby velvet and blood and creamy lace and pink guts bitter coffee and venom laced lips and hesitant sips nightshade tea and pills of three flirting with death and stealing my breath this murderlust is driving me mad I'm intoxicated and I'm high I'm in love and I'm bad belladonna coffee in threes mentholated cigarettes and forgive me not 'cause I'm not oh honey, it's all regrets it's not me it's not me I'm not sorry.
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Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 3:31 PM UTC
Forgive Me Nots
Sweet bitter tastes touch my tongue, Turning knots of nothingness. Regret, relief, repose, rewind- Take a poison- Ease my mind. Calm me down now. Soon, there will be no pain. Little toxins leak tenderly And I feel better. These kind chemicals Was over me Like a wave of pure water- Droplets fall from the skies: My eyes. Cries, and sighs. Breathe a last breath, We are all ok. Take this vegetation, Take life away. A nightshade salad, My perfect deadly nutrition. Swallow down those berries, Eat the flowers and leaves. My favorite plant Will appease The emptiness inside of me. Deadly nightshade- Belladonna. The purple beauty of Dreams of death.
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Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 1:40 AM UTC
Nightshade Salad
Betty Coutu drives a mean Rambler takes us public school, heathens to catechism on Saturday morn Smokes a cigarette like a prima-ballerina Shifts three on the wheel drives that clutch to the floor with her thick leg Makes the engine roar a little “to warm it up” Turns with the grace of swan Pavlova or belladonna Something of beauty just to watch her three-finger the wheel through a turn around all while taking a drag exhales to ceiling to music on the radio Elvis? Roy O, Patsy Cline circa 1959 Betty's hair is short, uncombed but she's not without lipstick lights her smoke with amazing matchbook skills Calm like a woman who does it often takes on wear with I'm in love, and I don't give a care She shifts and turns cigarette balanced like gossip on lips or between those first two fingertips Smoke swirling amid kids squabbling and whining in the back seat No belts back then till Dad got home to keep them in line But, I bet on Betty every time to get us there I want to drive like her, so badly! I sit beside her-- ossified watching her smoke and handle like a total expert I am distracted and will surely fumble my catechism answers for the nuns cataclysmically She drops us off by an icy foot slide I swear to God to stop back later when we're done ...with prayer and penance   recitation... and resolvings to sin no more Once we're out the door-- back to that forbidden foot-slide Always had a plan for fun So did Betty's son the hemophiliac Bless myself like an Olympian and pray for Johnny before he joins me for a run hemophilia: a medical condition in which the ability of the blood to clot is severely reduced, causing the sufferer to bleed severely from even a slight injury. The condition is typically caused by a hereditary lack of a coagulation factor, most often factor VIII.
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Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 7:31 PM UTC
Betty Drives Us to Catechism
Betty Coutu drives a mean Rambler takes us public school, heathens to catechism on Saturday morn Smokes a cigarette like a prima-ballerina Shifts three on the wheel drives that clutch to the floor with her thick leg Makes the engine roar a little “to warm it up” Turns with the grace of swan Pavlova or belladonna Something of beauty just to watch her three-finger the wheel through a turn around all while taking a drag exhales to ceiling to music on the radio Elvis? Roy O, Patsy Cline circa 1959 Betty's hair is short, uncombed but she's not without lipstick lights her smoke with amazing matchbook skills Calm like a woman who does it often takes on wear with I'm in love, and I don't give a care She shifts and turns cigarette balanced like gossip on lips or between those first two fingertips Smoke swirling amid kids squabbling and whining in the back seat No belts back then till Dad got home to keep them in line But, I bet on Betty every time to get us there I want to drive like her, so badly! I sit beside her-- ossified watching her smoke and handle like a total expert I am distracted and will surely fumble my catechism answers for the nuns cataclysmically She drops us off by an icy foot slide I swear to God to stop back later when we're done ...with prayer and penance   recitation... and resolvings to sin no more Once we're out the door-- back to that forbidden foot-slide Always had a plan for fun So did Betty's son the hemophiliac Bless myself like an Olympian and pray for Johnny before he joins me for a run hemophilia: a medical condition in which the ability of the blood to clot is severely reduced, causing the sufferer to bleed severely from even a slight injury. The condition is typically caused by a hereditary lack of a coagulation factor, most often factor VIII.
Continue reading...
64
_my stange addiction - Billie Eilish_ No, Billie, I haven't done that dance since my wife died There's a whole crowd of people out there who need to learn how to do the Scarn Don't ask questions you don't wanna know Learned my lesson way too long ago To be talking to you, belladonna Shoulda taken a break, not an oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya Bad, bad news One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse Just add some friction You are my strange addiction You are my strange addiction My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction I'm really, really sorry I think I was just relieved to see that Michael Scarn got his confidence back Yeah, Michael, that movie is amazing It's like, one of the best movies I've ever seen in my life Deadly fever, please don't ever break Be my reliever 'cause I don't self medicate And it burns like a gin and I like it Put your lips on my skin and you might ignite it Hurts, but I know how to hide it, kinda like it Bad, bad news One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse Just add some friction You are my strange addiction You are my strange addiction My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction Bite my glass, set myself on fire Can't you tell I'm crass? Can't you tell I'm wired? Tell me "Nothing lasts" Like I don't know You could kiss my as-king about my motto You should enter it in festivals Or carnivals Thoughts? Pretty good reaction Pretty cool, right? You are my strange addiction You are my strange addiction My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction Did you like it? Did you like that? Um, which part?
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Feb 16, 2020
Feb 16, 2020 at 11:01 AM UTC
Note 336:
_my stange addiction - Billie Eilish_ No, Billie, I haven't done that dance since my wife died There's a whole crowd of people out there who need to learn how to do the Scarn Don't ask questions you don't wanna know Learned my lesson way too long ago To be talking to you, belladonna Shoulda taken a break, not an oxford comma Take what I want when I wanna And I want ya Bad, bad news One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse Just add some friction You are my strange addiction You are my strange addiction My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction I'm really, really sorry I think I was just relieved to see that Michael Scarn got his confidence back Yeah, Michael, that movie is amazing It's like, one of the best movies I've ever seen in my life Deadly fever, please don't ever break Be my reliever 'cause I don't self medicate And it burns like a gin and I like it Put your lips on my skin and you might ignite it Hurts, but I know how to hide it, kinda like it Bad, bad news One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse Just add some friction You are my strange addiction You are my strange addiction My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction Bite my glass, set myself on fire Can't you tell I'm crass? Can't you tell I'm wired? Tell me "Nothing lasts" Like I don't know You could kiss my as-king about my motto You should enter it in festivals Or carnivals Thoughts? Pretty good reaction Pretty cool, right? You are my strange addiction You are my strange addiction My doctors can't explain My symptoms or my pain But you are my strange addiction Did you like it? Did you like that? Um, which part?
Continue reading...
54
Seep in through the back door, Soak in the blinding opulence, Resist the urge to start too fast. Pull a wire and the room is swallowed in ink. Limbs like rags dance, And my skin turns scarlet again. Let his eyes become mine, Unclouded by lingering humanity. Screeching lights filter through the curtain, Just slide with invisible motion, Feel the shimmering of a red potion, The dance judders to its end. I'm on my own again It all drips off in the rain, It all drips off in the rain. Feel the white light pierce the eyes, Black, tangled locks of hair hang over my eye, Used to be so elegant and delicate. Clumps are hardened in blood. That sound's so mellifluous, That draining siren, at the back of the woods, Distorted by the black trees, Only to loom, unseeing. It's such a blinding rush, To feel the brambles and the sweet Release of pure, pungent adrenaline. Blood weeps down my leg Like the black juice of Deadly Nightshade.
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Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
atropa belladonna
belladonna it seems that you're deadly such a beautiful name for a deadly plant belladonna erase my pitiful existence take my pain away let me wither away I cannot stand this hell any longer take me away belladonna atropa night shade death
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Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC
Belladonna
Admired. Required to perform. Feathers of turquoise and purple bruise my stage name. Belladonna. Blooming eggplant bright and dewy. Eyes dance and twinkle only for you. Indulge me my pet. Sharpen your knife. I feel like blood tonight. Tight smiles wreathed in crimson. Waiting. Waiting for release. Tear me open. Burn me down. Blow me away.
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Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 9:00 PM UTC
To Ashes
Lustful eyes Taking you all in Blow you out my pipe Smoke encircling my nose Then breathing you in again Your so addicting My little taste of heaven My drug Hands roaming My eyes see stars Songs filled the room With new melodies Your taste on my tongue Like candy to a child Never enough The innocence and vulnerability I shouldn't but I will Your dangerous But I'm daring Your poison Is no sickness Entrancing Hypnotic Your my drug My Belladonna
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Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
My Belladonna
White hot Flash Drums of Vibrato Echo down the Spine Cold and Sticky In the Chest Pulling an Aching Mind down to Recollections of Oleander And Saltwater- Bloodshot belladonna Eyes Poppy seed Vision A loose-lipped Smile Blurred hands Violet fingertips Pale white Translucent Blue veins dark Stained Iced concrete and Jasmine Be still my Soul Long enough To Comprehend The Nymphet Tragedy Of timid Thorns And soft strums on Steel Strings Written longways Read sideways Neglected underneath Rocky steps Buried deep In the salted Soil And mossy Tress
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Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
Youthful indiscretions