"combusted" poems
Like a captive, I capture rapture wrapping around stakes that matter
Joan of Arc battered
Also tattered but, easily dismissive
Refracted from fractured prominent phrases people play with
Distinctly persuasive and evasive, dressed boyishly attractive, lax stature, dawning armor crafted by absence as if asked about it-
I’m drifted
Protection is principle prerequisite, when fire is lit
I sort of implore your aorta before it’s incinerated to ashes
Dethatched as a habit, with swords or hatchets crafted to singe heartstrings that attached it
While I slash slick Rick as a quick fix,
To fend for pretend pretenses or presumed tricks,
I can’t quit
Cause I hit lips against hash spliffs fashioned with dashes of passion all while rationing fireball cinnamon sips
Martyr to avoidance
I gaze at fabled dazed gossipers galvanizing grips on gritty grapevines while licking warning labels through smoke haze on blurred lines
Capably unstable
Other eyes attending scandal circles able to shout lies and rekindle handed arguments on tables with locked smiles stay boxed in
Avidly amiable
Searching for counterparts when combusted or branded
Toying with matches loses meaning when rules reseed
Those vagabonds claim love is some all end hard bent to mend what the same above can’t comprehend.
Breaking boredom, I pillage pillows with night terrors
And ardent arsonists yearn for flames that churn, turn, liquefy and learn learned thoughts and smoldered feelings
Completely complacent
Melting in one another they are completing each other like two candles tryst true at a wedding day
However later the blaze is severed, smoke sears, and charred black wick stands alone for them.
Aggressive and progressive.
As for me never pleading, fire forever fleets to streets between iron bars I built that cage in deep heat and seep dire dreams once desired
Suppose I’m a skeptic
Roasted or disconnected
Just jaded, just met you
Always over it too soon
Burnt but I’m amused.
I’m useful.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
**You were a predator in disguise
And I was a lamb in your eyes
You're a threat to everyone
Because you can be anyone**
**You took interest on me
Like a prey ready for free
You use words so gentle
But deep inside it is brittle**
**You do some kind of trick
So instant in just a mouse click
Letting someone be deceived
Their trust, you thieved**
**I am sickened and disgusted
Of the scene you combusted
People like you should not be trusted
And I hope you will soon be busted**
5:03, 12-25-14©
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 4:06 AM UTC
the LORD & I have been arguing for days
over four small words:
[thy will be done.]
let this be known:
never is there a bigger sacrifice
than compromising the cloth that has woven your soul,
choosing to burn its textile
rather than cling to its strong stitchings & worn-in, familiar pattern,
leaving you in nothing but incinerated rags.
I plea for maintained remains of
this combusted fallacy of joy,
whilst He responds with simply
[I am making all things new.]
please hear this:
there is truly nothing that can mend you here,
nothing that can weave you together &
save your heart from being torn
as a love letter ripped into shreds of its possibilities,
leaving you with nothing but
disintegrated
dreams.
my past is aching to become my present,
& my perceived future has begun to rewind.
my place in this world has become null&void;
without the hope I once held close.
for what happens to a princess
when her earthly prince continues to commit slow suicide?
[peace, My child.]
I can hear my bones screaming to be heard,
as songs on a broken record,
stuck on repeating the same old refrain:
*please please please please please…
[on earth as it is in Heaven.]*
night sweats--
when your mind cannot stop running even whilst you sleep.
shaking limbs—
when your heart trembles & begs to stay alive.
*[plans to prosper you, not harm you;
plans for hope & a future.]*
I’m strung out on all these things that keep me sane
while my mind feels like its going through
withdrawals of the Holy Spirit—
WHERE ARE YOU, GOD
& WHY IS THIS YOUR PLAN?
YOU DO NOT LOVE ME AS YOU ONCE DID.
[those who hope in the LORD renew their strength.]
laying on my bedroom floor
with hymns pouring from my mouth
like tongues of fire & bile
I feel farther from glory
than I ever have.
[He restores my soul.]
LORD
as Christ once begged of you
Take This Cup,
LORD
I plea
for deliverance
for reconciliation
for an exodus from this body that is
full of intoxication
& self-loathing.
[until the very end of the age.]
LET MY SPIRIT RISE FROM THE ASHES
& BE HEALED OF THIS HORROR.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
I hate this empty feeling
In my stomach
Acidic and cold
Like someone punched it
I feel sick
I think I combusted
Wouldn't be surprised
If you loved it
I hate myself
I hardly speak
Because I hate what's underneath
I'm horrible
Understand that
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
Main and master goal
I stand in gaze
In a gaze that admires you
I stand in amaze
And wonder
And wonder why all these thoughts ponder
Why these thoughts take priority above all other
These thoughts of you
That has lit a liquid-oxygen combusted fire
And now I stand trapped
Trapped in this legitimate feeling of attraction
My concentration depleted
My heart weeps
Weeps for the dungeon I've fallen in
My heart weeps
It weeps like a waterfall
Tears that keep running down the face of my heart
Your voice that resonates in my soul
Like a viral infection that has pierced my heart
Your beauty has undressed these naked eyes
Now
The only thought I have is you
My heart has changed its pattern into...
Into a pattern that spells your Name
I close my eyes and echoed images live in the darkness of these shut eyes
Your voice has broken the silence in me
For I have savored it
You relentlessly entered my heart
Engraved your name on it
Slowly I'm tearing in the inside
I'm going insane
Pain, no!
Affectionate attraction, Yes!
A weeping heart I have
A weeping heart that is manifesting it all
As in my manifestation
I ought to be the leader of the nation inside me
The creator of my inner creation
Forgotten about the future
I live in the past of your creation
For all that entirely matters in the near future is:
My main and master mission
In vision with my main and master goal
Past the sleepless nights' tension
Past the deception of animations artificiality and into all reality
Past my minds permission; it's approval
Exceeding my potential but placing me in that position
Disregarding all competition
I stand and watch in 3rd person perspective
My heart has risen like dust
Even though it's dark my shadow has betrayed me; your smile shines through like lights rays
The visible weeping heart is translucent
My thoughts have become wishes
Wishes exceeding my boundaries of limits
Because my mission and master goal is for you to be mine...
By: Magnus Master Robinson
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
I reminisce quite often
of your touch
and
the unabashed ****** experimentation's
we've shared.
I know my worth,
so don't you go forgetting,
I had you with your mouth agape,
your toe's curling
as
you cried out my name...
call my conceit one of a kind,
because
I know the way you stare,
the way your eyes lustfully & licentiously devourer me,
the way you crave me
and
how you cling to the memories of us,
in bed.
Your priapic lust for me
is
equally accepted & measure,
almost to a point where
I could have bodily-combusted
since
you always seem unable to stop,
but
you must know,
I have a very arcane little list and lucky for you
I've let you in...
hahaha lucky indeed & better for me.
My concupiscence language
and
metaphors simplify & convey my lustful intent.
In simpler terms just know I want to repeat are coupling,
I'd like you to to bend me over and stretch me to my fullest.
open me widely
and
dance with in my silken Venus’ cradle,
entangle me into
a dreamlike haze,
in which my fantasy and reality are indistinguishable.
I know you've harboured about me & the many ways,
all the very excitingly different ways you could defile
and desecrate my ripe tight little body,
I see more clarity and certainty of what might happen,
if ever
I'd allow you to spend the night with me again,
I still remember our passionate nights together,
oh so very well,
I can see it,
I taste us and worst yet,
I can feel your animalistic
and
sometimes brutal ****** assault on me,
I still feel you deep within
my seductive tight little love box.
Your
a
cannibalistic-cunnalinguist master,
causing havoc within me,
as you attack hungrily
between my thighs,
sending me spinning,
sending me on a intoxicating high.
Our last encounter,
left me unable to breathe,
barely able to walk and yet I have no regrets,
well maybe just one,
and that is;
all good things must come to an end!
(until I heal.)
Always Me Ayeshah ™ ®
K.A.C.L.N ©
All right reserved ®
Copyright 1977 - Present ©
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
Our explosive behaviors where the water you which you were mixed with the cesium i am , or you claimed me to be
the atmosphere which we claimed to breathe from was hydrogen sulfide and yet that angiosperm which we claimed was poisoned with love never spouted.
however both of us being from the biosphere you acted like something that fell off of saturn full of air and water
you say my attitude was the reactant from which your heart thawed and combusted
though i believed other wise because your brain was made from only 1 cell and your heart was made of arsenic which flowed through my veins the night your lips infected mine.
Our relationship was not a commensaism and you did not harm me while i harmed you
your foolish frequencies flopped me right to the bottom of your food chain where fugus flourished and fooled me right into falling for you
our love was the hypothesis proven correct of Romeo and Juliet killing both of us in the end
you were an invertebrate that sent lighting through my limiting factor dressing me with barium
but too much pressure on my heart caused a reaction that Einstein himself couldn't solve
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
lead only,
read only,
craft yourself a better poet,
after you have crafted yourself
a better being
leaders are dragged to the fore
selected and elected,
pushed and pulled
be wary of those who shout
and boast
Follow Me,
for they think not of you,
they think only of the me in us,
their glory in your gore
do not follow me,
I shall not follow you.
let us each lead by example
and upon the shoulders
of our fellows will we be lifted
spontaneously combined, but not combusted
then, especially then,
go quietly inside yourself amidst the haste
for fellowship endures,
but fame fleeting,
and the adorers will soon flee
to the next prince of promises,
and when to the ground you slide,
slipped from their tilting shoulders,
be unsurprised
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
tonight I faced my biggest fear
of a dog charging at me
and not letting it get hit by a car.
Unlike how you grabbed my ankles
and threw me head first into
a semi-truck and watching as
I combusted into dust and gray feathers on our 5th anniversary.
Maybe you were hoping to see a plethora of colors.
Just because I tended to inhale paint
and spew it onto a canvas means
nothing.
Y'know, it's awfully rude to build
a house on someone's spinal cord
after only biting their lip.
The blood didn't fill my mouth,
so I guess it didn't mean anything.
So until it does, I'll wait until summer
thaws the hearts of dead bodies in
every concrete cemetery
so I can hear the earths core
sing my favorite song,
you hitting your coffee cup on
our ceiling like You've Had Enough.
You used to play it with your pulse
so loud the walls would shake
and start to erode at each crevice
your song made.
That poor house never stood a chance
with the way our internal screams
messed with the plumbing.
But that's why you're hammering
nails into my vertabrae,
and that's why you keep my coat
on the tip of your tongue.
So I'll have a place to call home
and you'll always remember what my
lips tasted like.
Vanilla and saltwater.
The taste of past lovers and sweet futures you always said.
But now your house is gone
burnt down by the fire that is my soul
after you three gasoline into my
intestines to get rid of the old letters
my mind sent through my veins.
never say you loved the hot waters of my skin.
you changed the temperature every time you got the chance.
which begs the question
how does one turn the dial
on a heart encaged like a bird?
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
It seems to have spontaneously combusted, but it didn’t. The disease struck long ago, brewed in the petri dish of Depression, WWII, and convergent technologies. Well before that, really, but that was the point of critical mass. By the 1950's, it was an epidemic. The independent Republic of individuals, small towns, coherent communities, distinct cities, local diners, shops and stores tied together with two lane blacktop was crumbling. Things only got worse faster. It was a disease of toxic, lulling dreams. American Dreams. And standardization was its crushing foot that flattened everything and left a homogenized wasteland in its trail. The old gods vanished and the new became despots. Go anywhere in America, Boston or Biloxi. You can’t tell where you are. Most shop at the same stores (real or virtual), eat at the same chain restaurants, wear the same clothes, gulp from the same Internet, swallow similar information, and think (within acceptable variations) the same thoughts. Even sin has become tediously consubstantial. Knowledge has been supplanted by content. Words are squeezed of meaning. Everyone is an expert and no one knows anything. Except Siri and Alexa. The Dreamtime of consumerism, consumption and conformity dominates. All that remains to come is the dominion of AI. Then we will all be watched over by machines of loving grace, free to graze in bovine bliss in the cybernetic meadows of bland utopia.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 6:54 AM UTC
You wouldn't know what
I was doing after you stopped
texting me that morning
of your surgery.
As soon as you said goodbye
I threw my phone to the wall
and sobbed into my pillow.
I had to stop myself from screaming
out your name, so I just mustered up
stifling sobs and muffled "I love you's"
and "please don't leave me baby".
I could feel stabbing pains make its way
up my body as they put the rods and
screws inside of your spine.
Eleven times my heart combusted
throughout the day and the thought
of you without me almost
killed me.
I wonder what you thought of
under the anesthesia.
Was it me?
Your friends?
The Beatles or Led Zeppelin?
Or maybe it was nothing.
I know that all I could think about
was the worst things possible
and how I wished I could have just
kept you safe in my arms because
thats the safest place you could've been
in that day and time *(or any day
and time for that matter)*.
But, now that your spine is
un-curved and you are okay,
I thought something was
going to change between us.
I was afraid that maybe the thing that
caused you to fall in love with me
was taken out somehow
and rearranged so that
your spine didn't curve towards
me anymore.
I was afraid that you wouldn't have loved me anymore.
But, now I see that I was foolish for being so afraid.
You are better than ever and you are still mine!
And I just love you so much,
you know that, dear?
I'm just glad you're safe and feeling well, baby.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 10:22 PM UTC
The decedent weighed 500 pounds.
Her shape was decidedly round.
When cremation was requested,
Her fat cells combusted
and burned the old funeral home down.
The director ought to have been wary
Of a corpse it takes ten men to carry.
He sought long, in vain,
a home for her cremains.
“A barrel, perhaps?” offered Larry.
Her overweight fatty remains
exploded when touched by the flame.
Some speculate gas
Leaking out of her ***
was possibly partly to blame.
.
So if you’re a “plus” girl or guy
And in the course of events you should die.
Choose the dirt nap, not flame
For your mortal remains
It appears Butterballs shouldn’t fry.
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 7:47 AM UTC
It is of my opinion that you have desisted in truthiness.
And as such,
you will hence forth be known as a
'Teller of Untruths.'
As a result,
I do believe your trousers have combusted.
You are a blaggard and a rapscallion.
Good day...
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 6:28 AM UTC
In silence and heartache,
The air has turned dire.
Our smiles were combusted
By miseries fire.
Its smoke has enclosed us
Within our own sphere,
Though soon you'll be leaving.
Leaving me here.
For long I'd accustomed
To being alone.
No need for direction.
No need for a home.
But one day you found me,
Your hands full of love,
And lips full of comfort
Which smiled just above.
Now loneliness taunts me
Whenever you go.
You take with you more than
You ever could know.
My happiness follows,
Forever it's yours.
In silence and heartache,
In rises and falls.
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 6:44 PM UTC
*I wrote a perfect poem once. I scribbled it down on the back of a half used napkin. It wasn't short and is wasn't long. The lipstick laced food marks couldn't taint what was already perfect. There was no love and no sadness in the words. It embodied only emptiness - it's most pure form. Nothing left wanting, no thirst unquenched.
In a moment of clear sight, I knew only the right words were forming. In that moment the half empty bar around me sunk, drowned, imploded and combusted - for all I cared. I had just written a masterpiece.*
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 12:38 PM UTC
the cage of
my own making
made up of bones
and my own self hatred
has combusted at
the first touch of
self love
my bones dissolved
as the love poured
over them
the self hatred oozed
from the cracks
and escaped my body
never to be seen again
for the first time in years
peace flooded my brain
finally all that was left
was
just
m e
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
His thoughts, his talks
Have combusted every corner
Of my cracking heart ,
Into ashes and dust,
Which fly no more,
Into cravings and lust,
Which I never adore.
I am trapped in this thought cloud
Flying beyond the horizons of fantasy,
Reaching non-existent places,
Impossible in my destiny.
I float around on this surface,
Swimming like a cinder-block
On this black tar of love,
Burnt from within,
And ready to burn further,
To win it all,
And to get that shine of a diamond,
It's tough.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
Far-seeing the apple of your eye
Reaching for
The globe, glorious and tender in your sphirex hands,
Newly crafted, formed. Painted by the millimeter from
the pacific to the Indian.
North to south-- then the equator
Smack bang,
In the middle.
You'd shoulder the weight of the sphere
and you'd smoldered the downfall of the creation
As the maple combusted and we took a bite:
Sweet, deep crimson.
Scorned yet dazed; a lamb ready for the slaughter
Our sympathies could only reach an external level
As our animalistic inner, drove us to all fours
And the taste of sin, bittersweet.
And then the caw of the crow,
And the growl of the beast
Echoing across the mountains,
Valleys,
The curves deep,
The aperture wide spread as
The sun set behind our crystal eyes
Unveiling the sublime.
(For a moment)
Then,
Darkness.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 7:51 AM UTC
She was a spectacular tree.
People called her the flame of the forest,
for she was obviously striking, vivid and classy.
I need not narrate the superlative majesty
of the flame – tree, for one time or the other
we have all been breath-taken by her peerless glamor.
What matchless artistry!
I am here to quickly share
my ruminative gloom for that lovely assembly
of flower, leaf and wood, which grandly stood
in a grove of possibilities, and possibilities can be
such a torment, such a calamity.
❋
For years galore, caterpillars of choices
had been steadily eating away at her core.
They came from different directions,
at different trajectories,
with varied objectives
and fluctuating proclivities.
Sometimes, they came rushing in as family,
and sometimes they came slowly,
a little formally, a bit watchfully,
somewhat officially.
At times they came in fiery fascination
and yet, ever so often, they were charged
with marauding indignation.
Many times they arrived as blazing ambition,
but more often than not, combusted the flamboyance
leaving behind an ashen illusion.
Oh.....those craving larvae
of oblique, wily opportunities.
❋
The foliage was feverishly guzzled
till photosynthesis was no more possible.
From my distant window from where I had once
watched her variegated flair,
I felt the Poinciana moan in simmering despair.
❋
With biting sensitivity, I still look on, a tad tearfully,
as she continues to tumble into conscious torpidity.
My words may slip and sway, as with each wilting leaf
after each withering floret, she progresses towards
an abject decay;
imploding methodically, and transposing gradually
from being the flame of the forest
to being a sprouting forest of flames.
Jan 22, 2020
Jan 22, 2020 at 9:11 AM UTC
*Not so many moons ago,
You and I in a star-ship
Flitting amongst stars, gallivanting
Whilst remeniscing of moments
Indelible moments trapped in time
Only flying-by, eloping to Elysium
Fancying fair lands
Lands pervaded with flowers
Flowers blooming in perpetuity
Lands with rushing rivers
Rivers serpentining with nector
Lands with novelty sea shores
Shores veiled with diamonds
Lands enveloped by lustrous stars
Stars painting words of desire
Lands with halcyon seas
Seas as smooth as a millpond
Lands where the only air
There is to inhale is love
Lands where love is woven by
A tapestry of truth not lies
Lands where love isn't bought by
Sapphires, Rubies nor Emeralds
Lands where all avenues
Are paved with green and gold
Lands where mountains
Are golden-capped
Distant was the journey
Though at length,
For what seemed a life time,
Our eyes feasted on
And from a distance,
There we gazed about her
In all her splendor
Ravishingly alluring yet resplendent
With all chatoyance
One could ever imagine of
Like any one else would,
At a speed of an eagle
Descending about her prey,
Fervently we gravitated
Only to touch down
Than when the luster about her
Had our vessel*
combusted to ash!
© Kikodinho Alexandros
4th Jun 2016
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
oceans drift in her eyes, twinkling stars
swimming in the waves and
freckled constellations on her face.
she holds the moon in her hands and
i am the wolf, howling harshly.
she tells me she adores me, lips soft
and i repeat her adorations, entrapped.
vines are wrapped around my heart,
tightening and holding me close.
she says, 'i love you' and sets me on fire,
flames consuming me and my veins;
combusted, busted and broken my
heart beats only for her, ardour.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 12:35 AM UTC
This multiplying illness complexes this weariness
Earieness steers for thou
A three tier system is written
In the hearts of despising old ********
Not soon yet
Not after!!!!
Climaxing evildoer's
Initiate iniquities triangled love affair,
Many go the distance
Whilst the darers
They dare!!!!
Clean slates
Thou wilt not find in a confine of magic fairy tale cells
Im sick
Combusted of all energies
I feeleth that bursting flame
Arising from hell!!!!
Coffee beans
Boil near by one!!!
Some play on open courts
Whilst others believe in freedom
Of pistol range fun!!!
No extinguisher
To put out
The volcanic smoke,
Wiccans
To quick ones
No lighter to spark thine throat!!!!
Pleasures are shamefully no fun here
Even amongst thine own kind
Thou art a diseased display
Of settled bacteria!!!
Hysteria
Enters ones mind
To rid him the pains of this life,
Forget wrong and right!!!!!!
Thou knoweth neither,
Unborn one!!!!!
Thou art a star of creation
A leader of all nations
The moon
The earth
The sun
Captured beauty thou art!!!!
Thou photographic film!!!
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
Walls I'd
Carefully erected
Deconstructed in
A few moments of
Brutal honesty and
Embraced doubt
You'll run
You'll reject
Never forgive
Heaven forbid you forget
Those doubts, crushed
When the pressure couldn't
Be handled and
I combusted
Wall deconstructed
Those bricks held in place by
Mortar mixed with my lies
Set carefully by insecurity,
Crumbling in the explosion
Telling me
To just be
But now, not
Too long later,
I'm scrambling
To pick up the pieces
Gathering bricks and ashes
Remixing my mortar of lies
Trying to reconstruct
My walls
I know
That it isn't good, but
It sure as hell feels easier
Stack brick, on brick
Hide away,
All hide and no seek
I know it's no good
But it sure feels easier
I know
Out of ashes can
Come a beautiful new creation
Redeemed and restored
Because
Lighting and sand make
Glass in a storm
Combine enough
Pressure and heat and
You get a diamond
I know beauty comes
From ashes and
I'm a rough cut diamond crafted
By Greater Hands
But I still want to
Scrape up the ashes
Mix my mortar,
Build my wall
Because it may not be good,
But it sure as hell feels easier
Help me believe
Your diamonds are
Better than
My bricks
Don't let me reconstruct
My walls of
Insecurity and
Self-sufficiency
Deconstructing all
You've built in me
I have
To love You more
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 12:46 AM UTC
Experiment in human perception:
Change your name to something different
And suddenly it is perceived
That your writing itself has changed;
Become darker, depressive; even suicidal.
The same words, emotions as before,
Now clothed in a gothic, demonic flavor,
By the simple association with a different name;
Nothing more or less than a collection of letters-
The 'd's not from dendrites,
The 's's not from synapses.
Were the Salem witch hunts inclusive in our very DNA?
Because no one can ever see inside a man's heart,
Only his clothing and name are visible;
And both can be combusted, at the whim of society,
Of whom no one person can know it's motives.
How can it be trusted, telling nobody it's name or mission?
Yet my name is out there for the whole world to see.
The different will always be searched out, persecuted,
Whether in school, or the world at large,
Whether in 1940's Germany or 21st Century America.
That's how it starts.
Mar 18, 2010
Mar 18, 2010 at 8:24 PM UTC