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Donall Dempsey May 2018

We grin & grimace
drop candle wax onto our fingertips

as the storm
rattles our window pane

angry that we won’t let it in.

All night  it rages
toppling chimney pots with a crash

smashing slates
it strips from rooftops

as we safe
giggle & peel off

our waxen

hold them
(tiny whirlpools)  
in our palms

those whorls of self
unique to each.

I wearing my sister’s

she... wearing mine.
Jack Jenkins Apr 2016
Heat waves blister us
Water evaporates fast
Temperatures soar high
//On nature//
Shang Dec 2013
beneath the star-struck, eternal vast,
    painted black, blue-grey black -
voices blister of the past.*

haven't felt this way in quite some time.
    the restless nights. this cold, empty bed.
unrhythmic breaths flood my chest
    as I watch my mother die
                         for the second time.

it's moments like these you never forget.
    find yourself waking in a cold, hot sweat.
mind tracing every syllable, every breath;
    remembering every word you should have said.

with eyes like a beating heart;
   smells of daisy wanderlust.
soul-fire like passion's spark;
   worn-out smiles like last night's luck.
these memories will never be seen
in the dim-light of abandon.

(C) Shang
Donall Dempsey Dec 2018

We grin & grimace
drop candle wax onto our fingertips

as the storm
rattles our window pane

angry that we won’t let it in.

All night
it rages

toppling chimney
pots with a crash

smashing slates
it strips from rooftops

as we safe
giggle & peel off

our waxen

hold them
(tiny whirlpools)  
in our palms

those whorls
of self

unique to each.

I wearing my sister’s

she... wearing mine.

SKIN & BLISTER is Cockney rhyming slang for sister. We were so close we could have worn each other fingerprints and as a little boy I was delighted to do so. I was her and me was she. This I guess is something we did to amuse ourselves before...telly arrived.

Donall Dempsey Nov 2018
( for Junie )

We grin & grimace
drop candle wax onto our fingertips

as the storm
rattles our window pane

angry that we won’t let it in.

All night
it rages

toppling chimney
pots with a crash

smashing slates
it strips from rooftops

as we safe
giggle & peel off

our waxen

hold them
(tiny whirlpools)  
in our palms

those whorls
of self

unique to each.

I wearing my sister’s

she... wearing mine.

SKIN & BLISTER is Cockney rhyming slang for sister. We were so close we could have worn each other fingerprints and as a little boy I was delighted to do so. I was her and me was she. This I guess is something we did to amuse ourselves before...telly arrived.
Chantell Wild May 19
I try
To speak
I wreak havoc
When I do
Its you
That makes
This fairytale true
It's me that makes
This picture blue
What am I to do
When things don't
Turn out as I want them to
Some blinding star
Catches my eye
And says enough.
That's quite enough
of trying to be so tough
When actually you are soft
Like a marshmallow  
Waiting to be
Burnt by fire
Don't be caught
By such desire
It will scorch you
Like a blister in the sun.
King Panda Jan 2017
a boy looks at me
on the train
and I exit
a blister of electric through
the tracks
my shoes
lightning struck
by blueberry muffins
I run
the cold
40 degree cloud
then a thought of you
I smile
a frozen broke in
mia Apr 1
Little pink ribbons  
Locked in a man-made prison
Accumulate dust.

I have not forgotten

The lullabies in their shadows.
Tea with too much sugar
Mom’s high heels with bows on the toes
& always a little too much room.

now ***,
a few too many sleeping pills,
stilettos with red soles.

blister forming
Near the heart.
this is a rough draft of an idea I came up with when sleep deprived. constructive criticism is welcome!
Rochelle R Apr 2016

The search for words
Leaves me empty and blister-handed
Despair and thought swirl in a voiceless dance
Between my ears and
Any will I've had to speak
Disappears where my breath meets my lips
Guttural instinct has me know
There are things that need to be said
Words to be exchanged
Explanations waiting
Perilously on the edge
Of solving all
And no going back
And yet

Silence. And everything is dead.
Ormond May 2015
Lear wanders in stormy open, bares warring elements,
The heavens blister, crackle, night is balmy shroud,
Wretched monarch babbles in sprinkles of wind cold,
Arguments lost by ones own pouring perturbations
And raining sky said 'nothing will come from nothing.'

Howl, howls into blackness treed in lightning splits,
His outcast soul, reels, fleshed, cut to smithereens,
Tang of salt burns on the bluffs and the sea rages,
So entire and ceremonious is Lear's fall meted out,
Air spoke, 'nothing from nothings ever yet was born.'

Sky proclaimed to man child King, here is a reckoning,                           
Each mad choice was self infliction, now wind flays
And sweet Cordelia lies in her innocent **** grave,
Sky, in thralls of thundering asks, 'what say thee now,
King of highborn follies, even purple heaths are rags,

Yet black and above you and night shades, whine,
Unworthy King, done in by compounded effects,
The might of maelstroms in low butterflies wings,
How now, bare trees, knifing reeds, skeletal flashes,
To rains of night are ever your lanyards my lord,'

Sad Lear so near oblivion fell mute, sky went on,
'Howl and cry mad King your reaper calls beyond,
The icy brisk heavens await to brusque you away,
Your slipshod kingdom was mere and fools' dream,
Howl, til howls abrupt abate, for nothing now comes.'
King Lear is a tragedy by William Shakespeare in which the titular character descends into madness after disposing of his estate between two of his three daughters based on their flattery, bringing tragic consequences for all. Based on the legend of Leir of Britain, a mythological pre-Roman Celtic king.
It happened to be a Frontier of deception
cowards in fear with no visual perception
Tender feet blister from the miles they run
Enlightenment was needed, we lost the meaning of fun
Struggle was a word that become a wish in our heads
For what We were going through ripped our courage to shreds
A weeping song vibrated at night
To carry my brother to the never ending light
Forsaken children taken from the ones that they loved
Family's driven through madness, here his life had been shoved
Down a drain where one should take there last breath
So there for Inception was the misconception before my best friends unmeaningful death
zebra Jul 2016
I am Madam *******
ive come to your lair
please come to the table
and pull up a chair

i see you have  guests
theres plenty to eat
look at my ****
start with my feet

collard in silk ,
no ******* i ware
am i not gorgeous
do you like my hair

plump ******* spill out
manicured toes
take a bite
ill hold a pose

demonic friends
need love too
thrilled at there sight
my **** turns to goo

curtsy smiling
manners i have
ive come to be eaten
do you like calve

brain washed im not
death is for me
a nice hot oven
i hope you like ***

to my dinner guests
i bow and i scrape
i like it so much
you cant call it ****

as the guest of honor
soon to be eaten
i receive an ovation
tenderized and beaten

slit her gut open
shes a feast they cry
what a **** ***
shes begging to die

removing my robe
legs spread apart
on the table face down
please tear me apart

hands are clamped
and ankles secured ...
my head lifted
you'd like me cured

head on a block
knees pushed up so
*** is perched
would you like a toe

hands outstretched
i'm pretty when i smile
split me open
excuse my bile

at the dinner party
all howl with delight
as she cries **** me, please
shes so sweet and shes tight

we come from behind
our ***** in her ***
she farts like a bugle
oh wow its mass

hell where demons
with lots of hot ****
poops on the table
let's drink some more ***

come **** me sweet
you're so bad
tear me to pieces
is your name Vlad

**** down my throat
cut my belly to pieces
unwind my intestine
eat my fices

my eyes are candy
pull them out of my head
get out the soy sauce
i love to be dead

stick a spike up my ***
send me to hell
light me on fire
i'm in a spell

two buttery *****
in my mouth at one time
with hot lava devils
******* me blind

two up my *******
long daddy strokes
oh hell yeah
have a couple of cokes

working my ****
licking my ****
slow cook me
i look good on a spit

being ******
and pulled apart
its so much fun
it must be art

it's getting intense
i think i feel sick
my **** run through
please have a lick

it's time for the end
get the big knife
finish me, honey
i'm tired of life

the guest gather round
for the crescendo, the ****
out pours my blood
oh what a thrill

i'm ready for the oven
i go in still alive
turned up to 450
i blister and writhe

I am Madam *******
i've come to your lair
please come to the table
and pull up a chair

dinner is served
The gods of fire and storms seem to call.
Do you not hear that his end is near?
The deep is swallowing up the light.
Skies burn, winds drip emotions.
But unlike Fishes, multitudes of clouds
Dissipate like crowds, oceans
darken with grief as sun seems dulled.
Stars move with the procession
Of boats with floating lamps.
Fishermen’s vessels cross, slicing waves
underneath, spraying salt water on eyes.
Crisscrossing nets spread
Like wings of dove.
Overbearing waves heavy with boats
answer call of coming
School of fish.

Pained hands blister the night.
With Eyes that flicker like lamps.
They Be still and know of Sun’s
promised light.

(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / June 25, 2009 - Alabang)
2nd Prize Winner - POETRY CATEGORY - Cesar S. Tiangco Literary Awards 2010
Helena Dec 2018
stuck in the sole-ridges.
burning sun in amber petrichor
you suddenly feel infinite
skipping, humming
(****** puddle,suicide note)
and then my body underneath you
in plasma, in blister, in blood.
never let me drown
(you keep me burning on)
i´m mud
subtly stuck in
your rubber bridges.

started singing with the kids in park
i swore i could hear you screaming
(i was)

my love, my love
your footsteps break my silence
Kristaps Apr 1
There is
a wooden
cabin on a hill
It awaits me still.
Hate, Loathing, and Pride, sit by the
indoor fire. And discuss disgust. Logs
of spit and mucus in an ivory stack, therein,
breaketh not they for moon or sun. In abyss, engulfed
in a blister, of scarlet marsh and murky water. Of poison
their cups are filled; midnight blue, the cherubic wine of sorrow.
I join once more my dearest friends and gaze into the fire's flat, eternally burned, lithium disk.
Kara Jean May 2016
A curtain held by one nail
Faded blush pink, tilted
Ratted hair into knotted beauty
Eyeliner set as feathers
***** crusted stage, crackling with every step
Audience of the haunted, ghostly clapping
Amused by the audacity
She twirls
Egotistical, making her toes blister
She closes her eyes, her thighs tingling
Meat hanging on a bone barely
Hells lounge
What a crowd
The devil sharpens his hair
Perfect horns of despair
He smokes his cigar
"Keep going my queen
Famous was the only request
You never said where"
Satan's personal entertainer
He kisses her forehead,
carressing her mangled body
He loves her the best a man can,
when being the king of hell
A ferocious request, "bow everybody"
Klita Sep 21
I could walk out this door right now
I could start walking
                           and walking
                                          and walking
Till my throat runs dry
Till my feet begin to bleed and blister
Till my legs give out
And still never stop

And find a place
Where the sun smiles down
And the world is full of color
And breathing comes naturally

But I won't
I'll stay
I’ll unwillingly persevere
Because I have nowhere else to go
Until I'm allowed to leave
I wrote this awhile back
our irony is that we are made of love
yet we seek it in the wrong places
in faces and in feelings
we never find our reflection
all our elements are watered down
and we need to rise above
when tragedy is upon us
we must learn to drown in love
all our feelings give us hope
but we can't out run our pride
all our emotions form a web
that eventually covers up our eyes
lies and loss
live in everything
keep moving and you will be the king
drink from the spring of yesterday's owls
drunk on words we become foul
cool down your heart
we blister in the desert
churn the ocean and make it sweaty
dread nothing
forever we are free
to inspect the clouds
for subtle signs of tyranny
zebra Sep 2017
i'm sorry
but im going to devour you
like toast with butter and jam
let go to me
lose your self in the exaltation of suffering
albeit a difficult pleasure
feel me ruin you with every strike and stroke
blister tear and pierce
a quandary of liberation bleeding
take more then whats dished
ill turn you into a gushing river of squeals
and filthy verse

i'm in love with your ****
colored almost purple
like a wild mouthed poem
make it kiss me
let it eat my face
its more beautiful then an Hawaiian sunset
more tender then a baby lamb
your sweet lipped *****
a buttery sticky bun
its drools liquid diamonds

i'm sorry
i hit your **** so hard
but they bounced and bounced
and it drove me near mad
so gorgeous bruised and bleeding
casaba torrents
all hot stings and sweet

you stand glorious
between beauty and annihilation

your mouth swollen from being slapped so hard
nose bleed and mucous
your eyes enormous wombs
like fingers touching me

oh baby
im sorry
your tears imploring
pleading and drunk
on hair pulling frenzies

curse my brutish rampage
of *** gone mad
turning your body
into clouds and red splash ribbons

don't be sorry
she said
with pursed lips
your rabid hunger my own
i am an abyss of dark desires
a savage wraith
i want to kiss you like a lecher
all ******* and cherries
with legs squandered wide
a Halloween grotesque
with a ponytail

are you going to eat me
like a communion wafer
if it will save you
am i not a saint of lust

"There is no greater love
than to lay down one's life for one's friends"

so have your fun at my expense
make me your house of horrors
for the scalding of your whip

ill be good
please do your worst
and ill show you my best
promise me
pretty please
kisses and cries
rainbows and ash
blistering ecstatic
Evan Stephens Jan 28
Slouch the rounds
of doctor
and therapist,
hands on my knees
in waiting room
chairs. My eyes
have trouble
meeting their eyes
and I become
an expert
in rugs and corners,
in traffic patterns.

A new drug comes,
and I take it
like communion,
holy water
from the tap,
wafer in
a blister pack.
It takes a week
to crenelate
the blood, until
the smoking mirror
in my mind
is cleared.
I exorcise
the patterns
of night thought
with bell book
and candle
that come
thirty to a bottle.

Every night
St George and
his red cross flag
wields a lance
of lithium salt
against a
perpetual shadow,
a piece of my brain
that flickers
and hisses
like the dead
channels that lay
between the shows
on my childhood
sandra wyllie Jul 14
its’ carried
within you
it’s the mole
on your face
the sty
in your eye
the snarls
in your hair
the canker
in your mouth
the callous
on your hands
the knots
in your stomach
the cyst
on your back
the blister
on your foot
and the bunion
Look What
he’s done
Phong Jun 2018
Start a fire, you and I
Let us dance upon the midnight violet skies
A twirl of flames and a blister of ice
Intertwined we are one, as we sit upon the rising sun
So hold tight and don't let go
For we are the ones who will never know
The tragedy of a broken heart
And the tragedy of a shattered soul
So let us stay here, where we belong
As the day goes from dusk to dawn
We will look upon the midnight sky
And leave our lives behind
As we wither up and die
zebra Jun 2017
I can be so tender with you, but then the monster emerges like guano out of a bats *** my precious and hes so hungry for your blood
He wants to take a razor to you . He loves your crying. He's excited by your sunken brooding face, sheet white flesh and sallow eyes.  
She gets down on her knees holding her self pert and brave for love's cruelty knowingly she is his play dough blood **** doll in a white death gown of weeping lacerations, his sweet blood blossom splashing
Her splayed pose tells him she's made to cut like red plush butter, her flesh his pull apart pastry, her bones his marrow.

He slowly works her down from merciless blood letting and bludgeoned raw piercing .
But the part that excites him the most  is when she sneers at him hissing, the blade to her throat as she lifts her head high exposing her throat without hesitation
His panicked hungry kisses and bites unceasing as she smiles and suffers knowing her twisted dream of living deaths dark labyrinth is near. Her **** gapes wet, leaking with blood and dark waters from being sodomized cruelly.  Her **** a drooling tortured swollen mouth, a river of blood
His bubble of poison in her, ruptures deep.
Both hyena feral ... He knows she's ready and holds her head down, a wooden block shoved between the back of her neck forcing her chin to jut out and exposing her swan throat .
He pulls out a box cutter
Is this what you need my darling ?
Is it you sweet **** ?
She smiles eagerly, eyes glaring, poised, noble, legs spread wide, back arched, soaking with crimson copper sweat
Watch me writhe you *******, unwind the little *****, she demands, grinning like a hell cat on drugs she holds fast ready for her departure to some crepuscular eternal afterlife

dark cupid witch
legs tied to throat
devil ***** twitch
******* in a mote
i've got the itch
feet scorched in rope
hot ******* *****
hells dark pope

oh dragon man
take my life
unwind me slow
i'm summer ripe
DO IT,,, DO IT... DO IT.... she screamed like a wind whipped howling tree in a blaze of flames.

Very well and as he slipped his long arterial sheath deep up in side her womb and stroked tenderly
He called oh my sweet darling pressing that blade deep through her soft buttery skin...Splitting arteries, sinews and flesh recklessly as she shuttered, her face a wild eyed Hiroshima convulsing in heaping waves, bloated with the filthy viscous red **** of Dragool
His blood a drug venomous, hallucinogenic and ecstatic

She spiraled dizzily into a primeval black watery abyss.
In a fury, he slit his **** wide, and engorged her raw shapeless mouth with his dreadful Scorpius elixir, door way to the dark life.
He raged at her, drink you sweet hell *****, **** pie, fat blister, and i make you my ***** consort for all eternity, loving you under black winged cape, sweet princess of death unpeeled.
Come he said, we are night storms of hell...We **** for love and you will die a thousand deaths my delicious blood bell I shall **** your soul away and turn you to the darkest midnight

vampiress *****
dark girl feeding
the sun is no more
loves the bleeding
Katie Aug 9
With the sounds of the fan drumming in the distance, a woman, in her early twenties, seems to flout all responsibilities and instead embark on a journey to finish the bottle of wine which now lays beside her.

Little bits of cork litter her bedside table, for she is poor and young and willful and drunk, and has attempted to extract the wooden barrier to her bliss with the 2nd-knife from the right hand drawer from her kitchen.

Now, the glass of wine is warm and tastes bitter in her mouth and she wishes it was smoke instead. But five (or six) glasses makes her dizzy, and the fan rumbles on and on.

Next to her in a bed with far, far too many pillows lay a book propped open, dog-eared and all. And the book is a wish for herself, a dreamcatcher, she thinks. And across from the book lays a glowing screen playing the never-ending stream of the nonsense and **** and gore that she loves so much.

Every now and then she tries something new- perhaps play a song she used to love, only to find it now makes her sad. And she is sad, for not she knows why.

But what else is wine for? Even when warm.

Ice cubes simply melt too fast for her legs to keep up. And the fridge seems so so far away from her. And the newly formed blister on her right foot throbs, and she dares not put a sandel on it and venture into the small, fluorescent-light kitchen with drops of warm, sticky wine all over the floor.

So she sits and aches and dreams of the man she loves. The man who, when in her bed, (with far, far too many pillows), sleep come knocking easily, like an old-friend rapping at the door. But most nights- at least lately- she spends alone and thinks of him and her and them and wishes it could all be so simple.

And these wishes, these hopes, these dreams make her want to SCREAM- but a voice never comes. Instead comes a vision of whom the woman could be, if she were not she. And in this vision she is a runner and a hugger and at peace her with past- all that the woman she wishes she could be.

And with this vision comes a bar set so high, just out of reach. But still visible to her, which makes her feel sick with envy and hate.

But, she thinks to herself, what else is wine for? Even when warm.
Traveler Sep 29
She pretty much can
Shake me round now
Still I can't
Seem to quit her
All my lies
All but stutters now
I can barely whisper
And for some reason
I don't want to go home
But I could never resist her
  I embrace her and kiss her
Our love is but a blister...
Drops of calming potions
She drawls my garden bath
Water pounding on my bones
Lovers never last
Traveler Tim
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