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zebra Nov 2018
The write was written
red ice
twice bitten
his soul a black clot

a faucet for a neck
she fell in a crepuscular fold
odor of tincture fuckubus
red mouth
a snarling kiss
a hot hiss chariot
a black bite

her womb spread wide
for a tongue that didn't end
nail polished *******
like torn cherries
soft gauze tourniquet
a slow yield
milk petals and rivulets
a ghastly confection
leaning over like a spilled ***

her gullet a metropolis of jewels
forced throat bound
on a black cross
she sailed on a magic carpet
like a vampires fizz cocktail
a red ice float
of starvation
his mind a dead sky
a pageant of coiled clouds

he held her down
she levitated

they were in love
spysgrandson Aug 2018
the green grove a magnet to my eye
on these sun baked plains

I enter the glade to take shade with the cicadas
and vampire mosquitos

then I see it, Eden’s villain, coiled and rattling,
red ready to strike

I raise my staff, I too programmed to survive, do to what millennia
have taught

still we are in this staring standoff—silent save its rattle, deaf
I am to the chorus of insects

neither of us moves for an eternity of seconds, until the snake lunges at my feet

where its fangs find a field mouse, and devour it while I watch, an unwitting witness to expiry other than my own  

I leave the copse, whole, content another creature has, for today, taken my place in the bloodletting
Karijinbba Oct 2018
To increase good fortune
like a tree of life.
A
AB
ABR
ABRA
ABRAC
ABRACA
 ABRACAD
 ABRACADA
  ABRACADAB
   ABRACADABR
     ABRACADABRA.
I changed!
got Wiser!
I didn't share my Knight
his destiny cursed Mom
birthing me! unprovoqued
playing us both
lover against lover
by chicanery deceit duplicity
backfiring deadly on me!
for his destiny to appear
wholly good being
more evil then good.
~~~SO NOW~
I create as I speak!
I won't disappear like the word
I was wholly good long ago
now I am more good than evil
ballanced rising beauty
Take heed though!
this really happened to me
not remembering this magic prescripted incantation
nor understanding it
a temporary memory loss
due to brain blood loss
Oh! many years ago
missing the mark
this timeless riddle
My loss was imeasurable!
I lost my true love.
Understanding it would have boomeranged me
joy happily ever after
Great fortune fame
True love priceless
along with saying
just TEN to fifty two
magic words
bellow:
I AM SORRY
I never meant to hurt you.
me fierce unborn protector
twas wrong medical advice
I love you, I will marry you
I will sing for you
No birthing task will ever be too hard for me to show love
love of my life
I surrender to you
do with me as you please
if your LOVE is my prise!
~~~~~
I demeanish misfortune
ABRACADABRA
in reverse below.
~~
why fail to question
my exasperated response to
ur e-mail why not ask about
original offender e-mailer!
the poisoner coiled
to your bed waiting
was your breach of trust!
irate culprit setting up discord
your destiny wrote saying
"I was unhappy because I didn't like the WAY my mother's p...y looked when I was born!"
all out of jealousy!
malice greed evile way of
deceiving a man to see
an **** deceiver
in more favourable light
it hurts doesnt it?
I returned fireball to smc
thinking viper still on to me
but it was you who got it!
uran back to wine-reward!
original offender dragging
you into her collapsing
black hole where
not even urlight escapes
your capricorn's revenge!
victims aren't fools!
foe is now exposed
youmemeuwins
ABRACADABRA
ABRACADABR
ABRACADAB
ABRACADA
ABRACA
ABRACA
ABRAC
AB­RA
ABR
AB
A.
~~~~~
By;Karijinbba
~All copy rights reserved~
~pc=rc=jpt-asg=aa=bba~
Abracadabra;
Take thee all thy wealth and treasures buried loot precious love
I wish for no other wealth from thee then to be thine wife from my virginity to have only thee one man one husband for the father of many of our children and to never know NO other man in this life or in many more, my Lancelott My King of Prussia PA Mont Davis,
Macchu-Picchu my highest
mountain climber lover
Hymalayan thee!
Abracadabra!
Its my wishing well coin wish for today since 44 Springs back.
Katie Apr 19
After all the things
He spent with me… I was
Never a note — a flower — only
A brief connecting flight.
I am not the type
Clinging to security — yet —
What once were fingers
On delicate hand, are
Crooked — Clawing.
Howbeit his snake coiled,
Relents its wring. And slow release…
Relieves my grief.
CK Baker May 2017
the rat ******* has been re-purposed
(conscripted in a somewhat fodder task)
brandishing irons
and quarter lines
coiled and unwavering
insidious and cunning
pent up and fired
in  his dripping shoes
and peel back skin

wheel bug and hookworm
are stolid in his wake
(all bursting grossly at the buckle)
the heel on task;
slithering and rogue
merciless and coy
resolute and contemptuous
with his cotton mat
and quick ready quill

pungi and clapper
raise the clever snake
(croker sacks and wicker backs
dot the gasoline rainbow)
carnival barkers and kraken
(lewd in the distance)
taunting and vile
with their red beakers
and deep purple hearts

cicada and louse
high on alert
(ready to wreak havoc in the hog wallows)
the perverse cornered rat
snapping and soiled
foaming and inflamed
lurking and primed
inside his carefully crafted plan

easels and cover alls
suit this jackal well
(keefer’s little helper or so they'd say)
pickers running rough shod
all stirring up the stench
***** and conkeys
poised
and ready
to lime this cornered slug
Bison Jun 2016
I climbed time like a tree
All your branches looming above me
And I tried my best to
Break not one twig
But I tore
Out your leaves

And they're spinning so far down
To the salted ground
And it's all spinning around
So far down

I left hearts in the soft soil
Like a silver serpent coiled
Sugar coats my tongue
Whispers on my lips
And the poison
Melts through my teeth
But I still
Bleed black truths

And they're spinning so far down
To the salted ground
And it's all spinning around
So far down

Soft shimmer in your backdrop
Sad hearts gasping, don't stop

Soft shimmer in your backdrop
Sad hearts gasping, don't stop
Daisy Vallely Mar 2017
I observe you, infatuated with your subtle mysticism.
My eyes lay on your verdant beds like a swallow tail butterfly
dancing to the melody of your vibrations.
I feel you breathe with me.
I admire your crystal garden,
dripping down your coiled vines.
In each leaf, a reflection of your life.
Your origin is you as much as it is me.
We are sister and brother.
We are God.
Together we transcend.
Together, we become one entity as we experience
the beauty of consciousness.
You are my natural friend.
You thrive and stretch your veins outward
to kiss the hands that caress you.

Alive,
with me,
We coexist fluenty
Julio is the plant in my roommates room. He's a a beautiful hanging *** full of plant. We hang crystals on the stems, referring to "crystal garden"
Helina Oct 2018
Don't know if they're nightmares or sweet dreams
Because I can't tell my feelings apart
One day I'm falling for you
And the other I'm not
I'm confused by my own thoughts

Can't go to sleep at night,
Smiling thinking about all the things that could go right,
If only I had the nerves to look straight into your eyes

I finally do sleep
Only to wake up few moments after that
Thinking of the many ways I could get hurt
Than I already am
I want to scream so bad
To get all my emotions out,
Because right now,
They're all coiled up inside
Skaidrum Dec 2015
The black sun coiled around you by morning,
Gingerly tending your wounded mind
You basked in the tall shadow of two lovers;
Waltzing along the line of indecisive love

Seven has always been your favorite number,
As we embarked to raise the tiger-eyed moon
That desolate soul wrapped in your inked bones
Couldn't silence the riptide that conquered like our kiss.

You were an addiction that took five months to sober,
Feathering every "I love you" with a pitiful look to me
I guess we just headed off to war in different directions
We were spilling blood in agony for each other.

There are regrets surfacing in your heart
I would know,
It's in my palm, right?

"
I am unwelcome and detatched, it seems.*"
--                                                                                   Am I wrong, Lycan?
JS CARIE Nov 2018
At spawn of first light
Darkness embarks into the recesses of hibernation
And so begins the blinding incline,
the inevitable blonde coiled wreaths frustration is on the rise
forces a discharge so multiple and emanate,
the skyward black shrinks back
from panoptic reaches,
into a delinquent weakened rumor

When this daily task of ridding the black ends a victor
The climb continues upward in a high sky setting
Consequential over the mornings painstaking labors
Wiping from his brow,
in a waving motion
To release mists over global hydration

By welcoming this morning dew,
the earth is one more day new
and can take great relief in this rebirth
Assuring all parched famine will gain resolve
taking in their absolve
What Came to me after several bouts with patience
Was wave of relief, not by myself alone, it takes more than the love of ourselves, I had to feel a distant presence to be reawakened
Rohan Press May 2018
the morning was threadbare,
loosed on a string.

we watched
the rising sinew; watched
the morning as it knotted and
coiled. the forest
trembled slightly.
Terry O'Leary Dec 2013
Ill-fated crowd neath foreign cloud: the Silent City braves
against a sudden sullen flood, unleashing lashing waves,
which washes stony structures clean with radiance that laves.

Deserted streets, once dense retreats, spin yarns of yesterday,
with  faded words no longer heard (though having much to say)
since teeming life (at one time, rife), surceased and slipped away.

Within its walls? Whist buildings, tall... Outside the City? Dunes...
They frame a frail forgotten tale,  in carved unwritten runes
with symbols hung like halos strung in lifeless, limp festoons.

The City’s blur? A sepulcher for Christians, Muslims, Jews –
Cathedrals, Temples, vacant now, enshrine their residues,
though churches, mosques and synagogues abide without a bruise.

A church’s Gothic ceilings guard the empty pews below
and, windswept blown above the stones, a maiden’s blue jabot.
The Saints, in crypts, though nondescript, grace halos now aglow.

Stilled chapel chimes! Their clapper rope (that tongue-tied confidante)
won’t writhe to ring the carillons, alone and lean and gaunt –
its flocks of jute, now fallen mute, adorn the holy font.

Stray footsteps swarm  through church no more (apostates that profane) -
their echoes in the nave ring thin, while chalice cups maintain
a taste of brine in altar wine decaying in the rain.


No face will come with jagged tongue to sing a silent psalm
nor paint pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm,
nor pray for mercy, grace deferred, or beg lethean balm.


Six steeple towers, steel and stone, drab daggers in the sky!
Their hallowed halls no longer call when breezes wander by –
for, filled with dread to wake the dead, they've ceased to sough or sigh.

No cantillation, belfry bells, monastic chants inspire
and Minarets, though standing yet, host neither voice nor crier -
abodes and buildings silhouette a muted spectral choir.

Coiled candle sticks! Their twisted wicks no longer 'lume the cracks
with dying flame in smoky swirl mid pendant pearls of wax,
since deference to innocence dissolved in melting tracks.

Above! The dismal ditch of dusk reveals a velvet streak,
through which the winter’s wicked winds will sometimes weave and sneak,
and faraway a cable sways, a bridge clings hushed and bleak.

Thin shadows shift, like silver shafts, across a cruel moraine
reflecting white a wisp of light in ebon beads of bane
which casts a crooked smile across a faceless window pane.

Wan neon lights glow through the nights, through darkness sleek as slate,
while lanterns (hovered, high above, in silent swinging gait),
haunt ballrooms, bars, bereft bazaars, with no one left to fete.

Death's silhouettes show no regrets, 'twixt twilight’s ashen shrouds,
oblivious she always was to cries in dying crowds –
in foggy neap the spirits creep... a clutch of clammy clouds.


No breath will come  'cross jagged tongue to sing a silent psalm
nor paint pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm,
nor yet redress the emptiness that shifting shades embalm.



The castle clock, unwound, defrocks! Those peerless speechless spokes
unfurl the blight of reigning Night by spinning off her cloaks,
and flaunt the dun oblivion, her Baroness evokes.

Green trees gone dark, in palace parks, where children paused to play –
now voiceless things on phantom swings, like statues made of clay,
mark marbled tombs in graveyards groomed for grievers bent to pray.  

The sun-bleached bones of those who've flown lie scattered down the lanes
while other souls who hid in holes left bones with yellow stains
of plaintive tears (shed insincere, for no one felt the pains).

The terrors wrought by conscience fraught once stalked and lurked nearby
to rip the shrouds from  curtained clouds, frail fabrics on the sky –
now wraiths that scream in sleepless dreams no longer terrify.

And fog no longer leaks beyond the edge of doom’s café,
for when she trails her mourning veils, she fills the cabaret
with sallow smears of misty tears  in sheets of shallow gray.

Beyond the suburbs, farmers’ fields (where donkeys often brayed)
exhale a gust of barren dust where living seed once laid
and in the haze a scarecrow sways, impaled upon a *****.

A silo, still! Like hollowed quill, a ravished feather’s vane,
with traces of bespattered blood, once flowing through a vein.
The fruits of life, destroyed in strife... ’twas truly all in vain.


No souls will come with jagged tongues to sing a silent psalm
nor paint pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm –
they've seen, you see, life’s brevity, beneath a neutron bomb.


EPILOGUE

Beyond the Silent City’s walls, the victors laugh and play...
They’re celebrating PEACE ON EARTH, the devil’s sobriquet
for neutron radiation death in places far away.
Sleepz Feb 2018
There was once two,
that cared about each other.
They were happily together so long,
it was unimagined that anything could go wrong.

When he saw her,
with her beautiful blond hair,
that coiled around his fingers anytime he felt it.
Her sweet chocolate eyes that stared
and pierced through what pumped his blood
to keep him there.

Her sweet voice attracted him like a honey bee to a flower,
soft, like the ocean waves.
A sound you could fall asleep to,
but wouldn't because you'd never get bored.

The taste of her lips unique,
He loved to kiss her cheek.
When they hugged and he bowed his head over her shoulder,
he felt his cheek pressed against her clavicle,
wondering if she felt the discomfort of bone against bone.

He could smell her perfume, especially on dates.
But nothing could smell better to him than her natural scent;
Freshly showered every morning,
coffee on the table waiting,
setting the expectation that today will be a great day.

He leaves to work,
believing when he returns she'd be there.
At the same time,
nothing makes him more sad,
than knowing she is allowed to leave forever.
yet, more beautiful than a dove in a cage,
is the one that is always free.
Kq Jul 2017
I can't imagine how this looks
Me, face of clay
Silent windchime mouth
Aquariam glass eyeballs
Snowglobe life
Swimming in glitter
Tsunami at your hands
Plastic toes stuck
Until I lunge
Eyes flare heat
Stove top face
Coiled brain
Orange is the color I saw in you
Finger painted pianos
Mole rat grass
You took my monocle
Smashed glass in the garden
Next to tulip bulbs
That will grow in as your teeth
Fingers on mice
Like your genes
Granola girls take paths
I am glued, plastic feet
You walk around me
Don Bouchard Nov 2016
After all the work of forming sprouts,
Calling out all forms of  leaves,
Beckoning grasses, inert, unseen,
HE turned browns to golds and greens.

After awakening from restful sleep
The slumbering, snoring bears,
The fidgeting squirrels,
The ball-coiled snakes;

After HE irresistibly wooed to life,
Fish, Fur, and Fowl,
Gave orders of procreation,
Set ardor in the *******
Of all living things,
To make them spawn and breed,
To make them stomp and howl,
Under the teeming blue of oceans,
Upon the verdant plains of grass,
Beneath the sun that holds us fast,
Fecundity blooming where HE passed,

After the world was teeming and alive,
HE left humans asking questions,
And a Serpent asking on the sly,
"Perhaps it's just another lesson?"

Suggested truth beyond the Truth might lie.
And she, Pandora's Mother, Mother of all men
Considered loss of innocence the price of "Why?"
And death a mystery to share with Man.

So Winter came upon the world,
So Death declared its right to win,
And Living Things upon the earth,
Discovered cold and death and sin.
So comes the Fall....
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
In contemporary belief.
A archer went to a shaman for relief.
A answer to ease fear of thoughts.
Finding his way home, the trail of war became too much.
He struggled with the regret of building a life away from what he knew.
When he came to the shaman.
The shaman hung his head low.
Smelling the stinch of blood.
Still he could not turn his back to the archer.
When posed with the young archers question.
He sat puzzled. Summering the long winded statement to "a great change must be made. Else all will fade."
Knowing of the young archers longing for a maiden.
The archer looked puzzled.
Yet the shaman spoke nothing else.

The young archer was called upon.
A war broke on the opposing side.
They needed his skill in fear that survival was utmost.
Without time to think the archer grabbed his bow. His arrows and darted quickly in the direction the war has taken place.
He quickly coiled arrow to bow. In repeated motion until none were left.
A field of arrows covered the small space.
War does something to a man.
A brief clarity after the slaughter of contemplation.
The shamans words dawned upon him like a snake.
He darted to the shamans place in great discoverly.
Finding that the shaman as well as his possessions were completely gone without trace.
He darted back to the field.
Searching through a forrest of arrow.
A heart wrenching feeling stuck on his face.
Guiding his way through the arrows he found a familar hand. Connected to a familar torso.
A face stuck in agonizing eternity.
The shamans words made more sense.
Backing away from the body.
Thinking deeply. Damning his hands.
The thing that came as habit.
He broke his bow in the reflection of his maiden's eyes.
This war gone astray inside of him
Tommy Randell Nov 2017
What kind of love is this
You want me to BE yours?
I hear only fervent promises
That grip me in their claws.

What zealous cunning jealousies
You bring disguised as gifts,
What velvet gloves you wear
To hide those polished fists!

What, you wouldn't hurt a fly
With those honey sticky lips,
What about that switch-blade tongue,
Coiled behind your kiss?

I see through the diffidence
As you offer carnal feasts
Smiling up in innocence
From ****** turned-down sheets.

I see through your multi-verse
The game of bones exemplified
Laughing as if nothing more can hurt
Now I am called your Valentine.
Josh May 11
You're smart like that
Making me feel bad to give you treats
Sheltered in a dark corner
Your eyes glowing with fear,
or so you would have me think
Are you afraid?
Or just fishing?
Waiting for me to sit down next to you
Sweetening my voice
Hand out with one of your favorites
Is this your way of getting your way?
After you come out,
you act as if nothing happened
Your tail coiled up with confidence
Is that a smirk?
Perhaps I've been outsmarted again
Al Nov 2018
The tobacco stained ground shimmers in the heat. Dusty boots stand alone, solitary monuments to past journeys.  His old rope lies untouched like a coiled snake... yet the memories remain.
Rivea Mar 20
When You told me I was selfish, did you mean it?
What about the time You said I was using him for attention?
Did that stem from your own jealousy?

The day You looked me in the eye and told me,
"You're super annoying sometimes,"  
was the same day I stopped talking.

That time You confessed,
"I'm sorry, I just don't care,"
was the last time I confided in You.

When You snapped at me out of anger,
did you realize part of me coiled away from You?

What you need to know is,
there are a number of Yous out there.
I want to say thanks to you all,
You are the reason I am who I am today.  

So when You told me,
"Wow, you've changed a lot."
Or
"You're not who I remember"

Did you ever stop and ask yourself,
Why?
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