"cannibalize" poems
her mouth was sandpaper.
her mouth was sandpaper
and she spoke like
a smooth surface,
words scraped into fluidity
like a wooden sphere,
turned over behind teeth ‘til all friction
is lost.
she spoke like the walls of a birdhouse
in the room of a dead carpenter:
pretty unassembled things.
her mouth was sandpaper
and every kiss chafed,
rubbing raw my lips
and tongue
crafting with each touch
drawing blood like
juice from an apple,
like sap
from wood already cut from the tree.
her mouth was sandpaper
and she told me
*i bite my lips,
rip at
the inside of my mouth,
cannibalize myself cell
by cell.*
bone saws in her mouth.
the only difference between teeth of jaws
and saws
is mercy
(and she swallowed her mercy long ago).
her mouth was sandpaper
and she spoke like a carpenter’s hands:
rough palms,
tough pads,
a utilitarian artist
a crafter of dead flesh.
a mortician for dryads
and kodama.
the art and the artist
in lips
tongue
and teeth.
her mouth was sandpaper
and i brought mine to hers
again and again,
her bitten-rough lips
opening like doors to
purgatory.
less entrapment than addiction -
returning once more to nails and hammers,
hell’s blacksmiths below
heaven’s painters above.
coming back home
to the space between,
to bone saws
and a carpenter’s hands.
her mouth was sandpaper
and her voice was carpentry,
her teeth bone saws
her words
birdhouse walls.
her mouth was purgatory
but her hands
were hands.
her mouth was sandpaper.
i held her hand
and chafed my lips raw.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 12:26 AM UTC
i detoxed myself under this pale sun
(you stood by and watched the
unfolding saga all the while
questioning the meaning of zen)
the original concept was lost
somewhere along the way
when i dropped the ball
on the forty yard line
(can you recover your own fumbles?)
every time i stand by,
the waiting is eternal
and i become engrossed
in the uselessness of my position,
pondering
(my love for this is a game of solitaire)
i am the ultimate in
irrational action,
a demagogue of dark
pathways and religious
zealotry, trapped beneath
glass floors watching,
trying desperately to
cannibalize my fingers.
i have smoked your toenails
and wandered away listless
at comments unbecoming
and salivated on the fires
set to displace my vessels
(i have seen you ignoring me)
in the coming months i will
rend my eyes and pierce
my skull artificially
so you will be able
to see into my soul and
destroy me more efficiently
(you will know me by the number of the dead)
i will search deep and
long inside this shadow's
shell, extracting this cancer
so i can cook up my
shortcomings and inject
them into a Ken doll
because then at least
i will be pretty.
i will feed my
chilled oatmeal to a
Cantonese family
that will honor me
as the ***** poo-flinger
i am for you.
i will cease to exist
on a plane with your
type, sinking lower
on scale like a rock in
the Mississippi River.
Mom, when i stop
growing up, i will
be the ****** loser
everyone always
thought i would
(aren't you proud?)
(isn't he cute?)
i cannot imagine
surviving your intern camp
after the tattooing of arms,
we will eat the testicles of the
fallen gods and dispense
great suffering on the weak
because of our enlightened
prospects and redemptions
(what do you know about pain?)
i will place my severed head
in a place of prominence, likely
in your bed, right before
i cease to breathe
my eyelids weaken....
flicker, flutter....
i grow tired with the
advent of your indecision,
the totality of abandonment
the lenses fog, fade...
flicker, flutter...
i have run out of things to sacrifice
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
In this world,
there are numerous denominations,
split by human hand,
divided by persecution,
as blood spills to the sand.
Genocide,
no,
xenocide,
and by these actions everyday,
we commit patricide.
We feud for who knows what,
killing in the name of our God,
be it Elohim,
Allah,
or the dollar.
Civilization?
Progress?
Humans are far worse than animals,
people are cruel,
we **** with hidden agenda,
we cannibalize our beliefs,
there is no such thing as civility.
I have a dream?
What did that man see,
but the barrel of a gun?
Humans are created equal,
this is espoused by many,
and practiced by none,
even I allow the stitches of the American fabric to show.
I am no poet,
I am the greatest of hypocrites,
and in my futility,
I scream.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 3:58 PM UTC
I saw the best minds of my generation
Brutally isolated from those around them
Surrounded by series of boxes
Some meant to relay
Some meant to contain
All passively made to control
And past all of these boxes we can see
The place where the grass is greener
Where the trees are taller and stronger
Where the animals live
We call that place wilderness
Some say we used to call it home
Some others say that when we did
Life was nasty
Brutish
Short
Well
Many of these days I would prefer that to
Long
Meaningless
Alienated
But it really depends on ones perspective
See the problem with Civilization is that somewhere down the line someone has to take the full force of the trauma
Whether that’s indigenous people
Robbed of their land
Forced to work in Rare Earth Mineral mines
Or sweatshop factories in foreign countries
Or Facebook content moderators in Arizona
Forced to be subjected to violent murders and graphic ***********
Their bathroom breaks are monitored
They are ordered to stop praying if it takes too long
All so your racist uncle can share news articles from PatriotPress.com
And people who haven’t interacted with you in years can wish you a happy birthday
This is the price we pay for our convenience
This is the passive acceptance that our comfort is more valuable than their lives
I heard that the first megamachine was made with human parts
Now we witness that machine cannibalize itself
What is the alternative to this concrete techno-Hell?
I hope that one day we cast off this Leviathan whose tentacles wrap around our necks
To live a life of lower standards but higher meanings and ambitions
To live simply
With nature and not at its expense
It’s not a past to return to
But a future we fight for
Where the grass will be greener
But only because
We let it grow
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 8:32 AM UTC
I can turn invisible.
I do it all the time.
You may not even notice that I’ve changed- just that one minute I'm here and then suddenly I'm gone.
It has a price.
I can turn invisible and the world gets vastly larger.
I shrink inside myself until all that’s left are atoms smaller than you can see.
Impalpable.
Insensible.
Compacted super-dense matter.
Dark and malnourished, I cannibalize .
I eat the pieces of me that are brightest and leaden with memory each time becoming smaller but denser;
heavier with the weight of myself but faded.
Stunted.
Fragile.
Small.
I can turn invisible and you wouldn't even notice
because I've been here all this time just lingering and shrinking.
The world keeps getting larger and I keep getting smaller.
It’s a feeling like butterflies.
It’s a feeling like mourning.
It’s a feeling like no other I can describe to you coming from one such as I.
Invisible.
The world gets larger.
I still get smaller.
My tears are hot and tiny. Puny things full of anger and loathing and loneliness.
I consume them.
They make me smaller.
Super-dense matter burning within these half digested bits. It's a feeling like no other.
I've reached the apex.
I've reached the abyss.
I can turn invisible.
I've been doing it all this time
and the world has gotten too big for me and I am too heavy with the world for it.
Compacted.
Super-dense.
It feels like butterflies and mourning and the pieces of me that burn.
It's hot inside my shrunken belly,
too small for you to see,
all the while I grow too fat on my tears and too full on this emptiness.
I may explode with this smallness;
this denseness;
and all that you couldn’t see will come spewing from me and the world will stop getting bigger
and I will birth a new me.
I'm a Super Nova.
I was invisible
but the weight was too great.
Compacted super-dense matter.
You couldn’t even see me.
But now you can.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
I’m a cannibal.
We’ll let that sink in.
It takes moment to digest that thought.
Sorry I have terrible humor, I know.
Why and who?
Mostly myself, I cannibalize me,
To rearrange my understanding of self.
It doesn’t survive upon contact you see.
So I slice and dice, chop and whip.
Until nothing irritates and the rot sets in.
Then I have to cut out the bad parts
And try to put myself back together again.
So you see it’s really not easy,
Being a cannibal.
But **** I bet the final product will be delicious.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC
hyperventilating glen beck
and thusly
criminally
insane
the PEEP-HOLE people
roust about
dreaming heroic dreams
of ************ amid the dead
creations
of the unknown god
--------
dead slime patriots
of a non existent feeble world
they cannibalize all decency
and pray for the wealth
that grants them the wished for
power
of total irresponsibility
----------
who will live of die here?
(we know the amounts)
the billions slaughtered
or starved into slavery
for the fun and games
of it all
-----------
nothing can be done
the LINE has been crossed
facing each other with courage
yes!
that
(and only that)
is left to us
now
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 12:12 PM UTC
God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we would have ***** other
than our sister or brother
eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door
on our captain’s silver crown
in a sea spilling from His ichor
sack punctured by our hubris we drown-
memes and cat videos worth dying for
We set fire to the shuttle
gasp as our air begins to leave
Amazon(s) choose to scuttle
trees land and humans need to breathe
a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex
who’s so far gone as to not come back
her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks
our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track
God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we reduced our target to soot
we revelled in our high score
not feeling the pain in our shot foot
and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig
sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large-
on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig
reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge.
God gave us the stars to shoot for
it was we who chose to use a gun
we chose to ram through the door
not checking if it was open
God gave us the stars to shoot for
leaving the details for us to decide
rockets to be built to make war or explore
as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride
an arching advance into the beauties of
our Creator made for us to enjoy in love
~
NM
08/25/19
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 5:12 PM UTC
hyperventilating glen beck
and thusly
criminally
insane
the PEEP-HOLE people
roust about
dreaming heroic dreams
of ************ amid the dead
creations
of the unknown god
--------
dead slime patriots
of a non existent feeble world
they cannibalize all decency
and pray for the wealth
that grants them the wished for
power
of total irresponsibility
----------
who will live of die here?
(we know the amounts)
the billions slaughtered
or starved into slavery
for the fun and games
of it all
-----------
nothing can be done
the LINE has been crossed
facing each other with courage
yes!
that
(and only that)
is left to us
now
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 12:12 PM UTC
Facts are Poison-
There is nothing as poisonous as ash dead, cold-hearted
facts. When the first Pedantic was brought into the world,
he took with him his axe and his facts, and axed
anything that conspired against him, for he idolized
the rigors of science and wished to emulate scientific method
, so that he may properly pollute the minds of artists by reassuring them
they are constantly misguided- literature is meant to be abstract
and remote. Therefore, it is necessary for the Pedantic to interpret literature. He set artists to be bound in chains and set them to
mine mountains of literature. His purpose is to cannibalize art to shreds, **** the aspirations of artists, so that they may never reach the heights of their own magnificence.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC
“I'll find them"
I say as I come across another corpse
The blood leaking out of the open wounds inflicted upon them.
Turning their intellect into a poison
that eats them inside out.
They're gone now (blanched from existence),
I look around
And see the bones on which
My “exceptionalism” stands.
Unnoticed by most
but I sense their ghosts in the spaces that should be filled.
The same system that killed my kin,
demands I cannibalize them
to sell me as a relic - a reminder of what was
But I never forget - or forgive - a murderer.
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 7:02 AM UTC
I am a babe
suckling milk
from the breast
It is bland
It is benign
With each new experience
it becomes less so
it grows a taste
It is bitter
It is sweet
I grow my teeth and
begin to eat the
meat of it
It is so rich that I ***** it back up
There is none left
I eat the *****
until my body
accustoms itself
I grow strong on it
It twists in my gut:
a white Worm with its
tail in its jaws
My teeth and fingernails
are yellow with it
My eyes and lips
are crusty with it too
I grow my mind and
begin to see the
heart of it
It is vibrant
It is alive
I fear to eat it
I sit at the table
set it with ****** cloth and
cannibalize myself
I realize I am eternal
go to bed weeping and
share me with myself:
My **** is potency
My **** is caprice
I love myself
We lie close and examine
the heart of it
It is grey
It is dead
I eat it without fear
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 8:56 PM UTC
I may not be good for much in this world which seems to have forgotten us
but armed with a handful of words
I am capable of feats
most people couldn't begin to imagine
I talk to a lot of younger kids
and they say
I want to be a writer
like you are trying to be
and I say to them
are you sure?
because every form of art isolates us from humanity
writing especially
and the rejections pile up faster than the bills and calls from collection agencies
and the doubt brings you down to rock bottom
ever held a knife against your own throat?
one slash away from a restful eternity
and if you think you can do it -
more power to you
but just know
that we're in the jungle
and I might be your friend
but it's just as likely that I get hungry
and cannibalize you
because the market is flooded
and I don't need any more competition
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Skinwalker lover
Call my name again
My heart a peach in your fist
Dripping
Ever longing
More, more, more
Lapping tongue
Starving dog
Cannibalize me
Again
I'll never notice
My pieces missing
Begging for scraps
While your meal
Grows cold
May 26, 2023
May 26, 2023 at 5:39 PM UTC
Melodious crackling infuses, charging static atmosphere
Vibrations penetrate barriers, fragmenting celestial sphere
Rational boundaries disintegrate, chaos emerges schizophrenic
Spliced personalities splinter, psychotic rhythm reflects genetics
Dormant heredity aroused, hysteric deranged homicide
Demoniac tempo intensifies, psychopath's insanity amplified
Demonic possession harnessed, traumatic obsession distorted
Erroneous percussion horrendous, pernicious lunatic contorted
Withering consciousness diminishes, falsified intelligence deformed
Mastermind's scheme commences, cyanotic audience malformed
Quivering frequency pulsates, puncturing deafening performance
Euphoniums circulate methane, calamitous climatic chorus
Instruments composing ballad, narration foreboding demise
Anthem consecrating malice, indulged choirs cannibalize
Virulent orchestra dissipates, convulsions eviscerate harmony
Cavernous melody resonates, cultivating maniacal symphony
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 6:12 AM UTC
I think subliminaly some people know that success is limited to there environment. It’s pretty much a farse. you could become super successful and rich, but what’s it worth after all is bought or accomplished.. nothing without society saying so. Or you could live in your cabin and feel just as successful doing what you say is worthwhile. Both of which are great.
I’m a pessimist, ideally I’d like to have a cabin, fire, and a creak, self sufficiency and to live out my life accomplishing as little as possible, but to do so I’d have to sell myself enough to afford land, my child’s future, and an decent sized interest bearing account to pay for the taxes. Sooo the system has its ways of forcing us to play and that’s just the way of our day and I struggle with the why there’s greed and corruption when there’s no ultimate gain from winning it all unless the future has foretold some worldly super powers that we must progress aggressively in order to survive..heck maybe Mother Earth knows that doom is inevitable and we are her way escaping and traveling the galaxy. Idk I don’t think there’s actually reasons behind anything and logic is archaic tool that is limiting people. Imagine if logic wasn’t in your forethought if it wasn’t right up front blocking the view. If instinct and insight was there and logic didn’t cipher your decision because there’s no law of competition with each other, only natural trusting coexistence, and you didn’t question your survival instinct because people are no longer making complex variables of deception in order to cannibalize on each others life force. Idk mate I guess we are the dominant species and we have it pretty awfully good and everything is just naturally evolving forever. And it’s always all good
Oct 25, 2024
Oct 25, 2024 at 7:35 PM UTC
H.G. Wells..., ah...now there
without dark shadow of a doubt,
in my (myopic brown) eyes,
a prolific writer hooked hood accessorize
the English language, and captivated
populations, sans "The War Of
The Worlds" to realize,
with an assiduous presentation
convinced listeners, how
aliens did cannibalize
innocent Earthlings strictly via radio,
where rapt audience could actualize
"FAKE subjects" pretended to agonize,
yea of course after receiving
substance that did anesthetize
in an effort to minimize
potential melee erupting,
which feasible outburst,
could tinder, kindle, and antagonize
crowdsourcing masses,
who suddenly became repentant,
and sought to apologize
each to their personal deity, apprise
zing respective comportment, thus
the apprenticed faux presidential Don,
rather than agonize
over farcical shenanigans, where dissension
among rank ken file seems to arise,
could take page from said playbook
visiting storied aforementioned scribe,
whose spirit author might be able to authorize
and conjure creative satisfactory
acceptable non costly deterrent breadthwise
cuz, more anger will materialize,
particularly if monies summarily brutalize
for social services that benefit the 99%
myself and the missus included analogous to...baptize
with gentile invisible knifed incision
or if Semitic tolled uncivil lies,
asper emotional financial, mental...
painless process to circumcise
purportedly for best interests
of citizens at heart, but tummy
essentially acting counterclockwise
to the modus vivendi that underlies
the immigrant experience that peopled
United States Of America, who did colonize
at expense of rightful natives
scattered innocent tribes, whose demise
vis a vis any fact checker, would
clearly recognize as blatant lies!
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 11:02 AM UTC
Who knew that decaying
Had such a good feel
One more stab another twist
You have another meal
It feels so natural
Just like a chemical
I want to cannibalize
On my own flesh
Self-sustaining bit by bit
Until I’m no longer fresh
It feels so natural
I’m not a cannibal
But I can consume like one
And destroy myself
We’ll die while we’re young
It just makes sense
I want to **** my own brain cells
Because I can
Who are you to realize that I’m not right?
To everyone to each his own
Pleasures that I can’t fight
It feels so natural
It’s almost rational
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC
God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we would have ***** other
than our sister or brother
eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door
on our captain’s silver crown
in a sea spilling from His ichor
sack punctured by our hubris we drown-
memes and cat videos worth dying for
We set fire to the shuttle
gasp as our air begins to leave
Amazon(s) choose to scuttle
trees land and humans need to breathe
a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex
who’s so far gone as to not come back
her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks
our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track
God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we reduced our target to soot
we revelled in our high score
not feeling the pain in our shot foot
and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig
sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large-
on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig
reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge.
God gave us the stars to shoot for
it was we who chose to use a gun
we chose to ram through the door
not checking if it was open
God gave us the stars to shoot for
leaving the details for us to decide
rockets to be built to make war or explore
as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride
an arching advance into the beauties of
our Creator made for us to enjoy in love
~
NM
08/25/19
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
Diabolical optical ron stoppable
At your ****** scene
Outlining my master scheme
Cause casket raising is a persuasion
Like Asians
No I rather tackle your brain
So me and CTE are kinda the same
I want to bend your sense of reality to insane
And have you drive your Ferrari into flames
Distorting your social norms
And dissolving consequence
Im like the purge but with more confidence
Run away, scream, or fight back
I like all the above
Cause without a outlet
I would need a plug
See thats the headlines media dimes
Oversize to prioritize what we should
Cannibalize in our social lives
Yet I get hate because I’m wise
This owl is putting who on a loop
Like who made bohemian grove?
Who is willie lynch?
Who runs the new slave trade?
Yeah I’m the two of spades
Cutting into your shady grin
Cause these political jokers
Are two faced like a double chin
But nobody sees there’s villainous
To spew venomous at
The innocent to make them descent
While gain they cents all for
There sinful lent
And you say I’m bent
Naw I’m the anti hero you need
Kinda like spawn if dark horse
Didn’t make him take a knee
So I don’t want glee or to live happily
Cause I love all the jeers and boos
I just wonder when Henrietta Lack cells
Will be in the news?
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
This fool doth not consider himself wise,
writing paltry poetry difficult
to read and/or actualize
methinks perusers of great literature
snub nose how I miserably advertise,
laughable attempt to aerobicise
fifty plus shades of gray matter
lobbying showy words agonize
zing effort perhaps best to cauterize
near petrified glob - boon
for scientists to analyze
baffling laboratory technicians
unusual crenulations
a profound surprise
pitiful peremptorily doth apologize
unlike verbalization feasible
after webbed whirled fist size
terra incognita reveals numbskull years
wrought yours truly to anesthetize
smelting, squelching,
and suppressing emotions
scored how tree rings annualize
environmental conditions definite
premature imp of the pervert
poe fella lifetime channels,
where bullies did antagonize
upon death requested autopsy authorize
zing eager scalpels to apprize
miniature dried river bed
formerly streams of consciousness
lake never seen before engendering
crowdsource to hypothesize
baffling every expert,
how terrible fate did baptize
ala lemony snicket series
of unfortunate events
multiplied power bajillion times
number only Google could surmise
obvious tell tale signs did brutalize
as if smacked upside the head
one unfortunate gladly apparently
suffered maelstroms of armageddon size
poet chars evidently
succeeded to burglarize
more successful than Watergate
psychological ploys hackers
noninvasively did cannibalize
(perhaps bored furloughed
government employees)
albeit noninvasively deeming
imposible to canonize
resultant cerebral corpus
understandably did capsize
entire body politik (Democrat)
faced, booked on hatred did demonize
verbal assaults indicate
suffering did caramelize
cerebrum, cerebellum and brainstem
resembling burnt offering
impossible to categorize
glommed hardened integument colleagues
hard pressed to characterize
highly rendered anomaly,
hence unfair to criticize
erratic schizoid personality disorder
quite evident amyloid plaques
did significantly crystalize
definitely explain aberrant quirks
resultant incessant emasculation
unquestionably led him to demoralize.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 1:39 PM UTC
Dead, outdated, old, torn, faded
Shredded like cheese and fried like bacon
This particular cluster of mustered up star junk
Thought he hit rock bottom, then he sunk
What poor luck
Catch him on the breeze, going easy
Like a silent ****
Can't get a start *** he ****** on all the
Fire sparks
A bag of bones, regret, dusty reminiscings
Of things that weren't quite what they seemed
Hear him clearly...
For he is half deaf.
He would have more now
If he had but a fraction of what he left behind.
Look him in the eyes but he won't look back.
He's starting to see knives more like thumb tacks
Post your problem right next to the spine.
Maybe he could feel it but his brain is numb
Strung up and dumbed down,
A real ****** conundrum
...He has no hooks to spit
They tell him the bait choice is sick
But hardly any fish ever bit
So he sits in the sinking pit
Throwing rocks
Timing the bonks with the tick tocks.
Some say he'd really **** time if he had the chance
All the mind's romancin' reminds him of failed plans
He can't stand and see around,
When they told him to break a leg
He broke both just by casually leaning on em.
Seasons plot them uniform catastrophes;
Explosions of flowers weeds bugs trees, all so casually.
Compare that to this extremely sophisticated being
Flailing at every turn, constantly miscommunicating.
It's funny. A divine comedy. He begs the world "try me"
Then sits back n relaxes, crumbling the ivory tower
Just to build another one, then another, then
Cannibalize the next for another, self perpetuating blunder
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 11:40 AM UTC