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"constrict" poems
He wrote of the light of the world, a testament, a lamp to illuminate the place from which he came —     I saw his lighthouse coalesce     out of the cloaking mist, its blade     shearing the sheath of darkness.     I inhaled the dusk bloom scent     - Four O’Clock Flower, Poinsettia, Frangipani -     beguiled by a road, undeterred     by calls in the night, the rain, the unknown way.     I sang with one thousand night-drunk tree frogs     proclaiming an equatorial cycle to the stars,     choristers intoning a chant of existence.     I rode balanced between     the cycling engine's torque and the     reflective cast of my foreign skin.     I felt the grip of ignominy constrict the stir     of my drink, amongst hands toasting     the crush of entitlement’s bearing.     I walked where people dwell, and stop     to greet and tell news of the market     or of their nets, bearing the sea’s returns.     I savored the song in his speech,     a seasoned stew, unshackling the tongue     to ring like the steel of a drum — a tapestry unfurled: a world paced by sirens of wind and wave, embroidered on the earthbound side of heaven's abiding blanket. Copyright © 2017 Gary Brocks
0
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 4:46 AM UTC
CARIBBEAN IDYLL with REVERENCE for DEREK WALCOTT
Two decades in and already swamped with memories And only the desire to make new ones. Walking to class or coming home People ask me what I want to do, What do I want to do with the rest of my life? I can feel my throat constrict and my heart skid, Don’t they understand how much of a commitment that is? The rest of my life. And what if it’s not something I want to do, but something I want to be? I’m 20 years old and don’t ever have my head in this atmosphere, So how can I ever hope to decide the rest of my life? I want to write with the raindrops that kiss the grass Or sleep on the waves of the ocean And hold the stars in my hands. I want to climb the highest tree or the highest mountain Just so I can jump and call it flying. I want to read the faces of others And put them into stories. But mostly I want to run, Not literally, But running still. I want to catch time as it passes by And go to all the places in the pictures Enjoying adventure upon adventure Until the end of my days, Surrounded by the select few that I love. I want to be nothing short of me, And who I am isn’t a constant that can be applied to a formula, It’s constantly changing, growing, fighting, loving. How dare you ask me to define what I want to be, When it’s plain that I don’t even know who I am? I’m 20 years old and what I want to do for the rest of my life Is nothing sort of a mystery, an adventure, Like a storyline leading to an epic plot twist, But it’s wrapped in uncertainty And the only way to find out where it’s going Is to keep reading the book.
0
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 9:23 AM UTC
I'm 20 Years Old
Two decades in and already swamped with memories And only the desire to make new ones. Walking to class or coming home People ask me what I want to do, What do I want to do with the rest of my life? I can feel my throat constrict and my heart skid, Don’t they understand how much of a commitment that is? The rest of my life. And what if it’s not something I want to do, but something I want to be? I’m 20 years old and don’t ever have my head in this atmosphere, So how can I ever hope to decide the rest of my life? I want to write with the raindrops that kiss the grass Or sleep on the waves of the ocean And hold the stars in my hands. I want to climb the highest tree or the highest mountain Just so I can jump and call it flying. I want to read the faces of others And put them into stories. But mostly I want to run, Not literally, But running still. I want to catch time as it passes by And go to all the places in the pictures Enjoying adventure upon adventure Until the end of my days, Surrounded by the select few that I love. I want to be nothing short of me, And who I am isn’t a constant that can be applied to a formula, It’s constantly changing, growing, fighting, loving. How dare you ask me to define what I want to be, When it’s plain that I don’t even know who I am? I’m 20 years old and what I want to do for the rest of my life Is nothing sort of a mystery, an adventure, Like a storyline leading to an epic plot twist, But it’s wrapped in uncertainty And the only way to find out where it’s going Is to keep reading the book.
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37
Rebel Against Rebellion I have nothing to prove No creeds, no doctrine to upkeep We all have so much freedom when we close our eyes And just think Maybe you need to humble yourself enough To lose Rebel Against Rebellion Because they're all just books Your sword is looking pretty dull sir Why are you so inclined to hurt? Thought your prophet preached LOVE? So repeat words Choose what you choose Choose wisely Because soon the snake will stop his hissing Constrict And become your noose Rebel Against Rebellion I think I'll call your bluff I bleed, I sin, I'll die But I'm not feeling hot standing here So tell me again why I should be afraid Of my fleet mortal life? Rebel Against Rebellion Because a Sheppard leads a flock But you never followed Your a goat Caught in your lies Bureaucracy, Democracy Man it's all a joke A silly excuse Rules, the sacrum of man's brain Your doctrine is becoming lame And your beliefs more insane Coliseum A game to play to make you so entertained Please write another rule Prove once again The medium you choose is jewels You fool Rebel Against Rebellion Why would I cut my brother short? Because of appearance and all your silly rules So many when uttered I choke For all we know life itself a joke Oh the irony What began as unity Became bowing down To man's hierarchy So I Rebel Against Rebellion I'm a servant of no man I know God has a plan That over cries your silly fear Unravels your vines Your words Agenda and "Time"
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC
Rebel Against Rebellion
Do the words that you rhyme still matter over time , or do they fade into the abyss like a memory you miss? Do they fade away from you, like every friend seems to do. Not because of choice, but because of a voice,deep inside your mind, you search but never find. Do they fill throughout your brain and exist with every pain? Does the daylight contradict , what your nightmares constrict? Are you afraid of today, because of what the past used to be, or fearful of the future because its a lock with no key. Do you walk towards the light and see it in your sight! Or does darkness follow you, the light to never breakthrough? Do you think of what could be ,if your mind could be free, Or does the darkness begin to ensue like a storm beginning brew? Does the pain go to your brain, coursing every vein, you question if you are sane! Is this what life is to be , or is this only for me. Do you question every thought, every sentence, every answer that could be. Why? Why do these nightmares happen to me! Is this what my life is to be ?! Or I have simply lost my balance and this is what I see. Turn off the lights so then you can see, the darkness of a mind, when that mind belongs to... Me
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Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
Inside the mind of a monster
Today, I wear nothing. I strip away the hot heavy shoes, the tights that constrict my airway. My underwear, lacy and uncomfortable and unseen by everyone but me. My deepest darkest most sacred secret is held down             slipping between my legs is my moist wet womanhood not stopped by any obstacle and you try to touch me there on my pink love button, touching it to understand a different part of me that you wouldn't have been able to see otherwise. I keep it hidden. it comes out when they come off Release
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Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 6:01 PM UTC
****
You’re forcing my hand, forcing the lungs to constrict, What will you do with the bits of love I’ve left to you? I don’t trust you anymore “Nothing is wrong”, Let it be known I’ve just had a bad week, Though that’s naive. A crooked dream I like to think about. I know I’m surrounded. Blood red hair you dye to stay pretty, Like the blood drawing sharks in calm waters. — I guess I deserve it.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 9:16 PM UTC
Convincing Monsters to Lay Dormant Hurts Like Nothing Else
Constricted in the tiny *** this plant has lost it’s will to grow The lightness fades inside the room the curtain shades the greenish brown I forgot that i was more, than this room. this house, this place I forgot how to transplant. I forgot how to grow Don’t let me wither. Don’t abandon me in the cold. How can i survive this potted life, this winter, It was easy to love me when the spring was here, and i was bright and full of wonder. I could fill a room with bright vernal sweetness. And then i began to blend into the wallpaper. a perfect little wallflower. Tendrils constrict, and branches droop. flowers swept away, and bark begotten by dust and moth Who will inherit me? Or perhaps just an empty ***
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
Wallflower
Motion, 'side-by-side,' -taste. Tiny ridges, odd projections, scales over a hunken-frame, -slide. *Two Dead Bears; Red Eyes! Two Dead Bears; Red Eyes! Betwixt two bears; it lies.* Cranial portholes, back out, newt, shimmery black tongues array, -kiss. Tail around the head; constrict. *Two Dead Bears; Red Eyes! Two Dead Bears; Red Eyes! Betwixt two bears; it lies.* Celestial space, taste the air, Now slither wrap the eyelashes... twist, pull apart, open, -see! *Two Dead Bears; Red Eyes! Two Did Bare; Red Eyes! Betwixt two bears; they lied.* Three rows of teeth exposed, to **** out the eye! A Dragon consumes a Hero. It is not a myth.
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Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 12:22 AM UTC
A Little Fontenrose
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
RUN GEMINI CHILD
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
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71
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 6:27 AM UTC
Run Gemini Child
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
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71
It was silent as Chelsea crept into the room There I lay, nestled to sleep with a teddy bear The moonlight on my back, soothing light She awoke me violently, shaking me ashen And my eyes widened in terror at her face It didn't take long for her to find something A tool to suit the job, my punishment I was a bad sister, always was I wrong So she found a pair of shoes, my shoes And I braced for the nightly beating But Chelsea had something else in mind As she removed the lace from one of them She gripped an end in each hand, staring And she moved on top of me, saying; "I hate you, stupid attention ***** She placed the string over my throat And she pressed down very hard, frowning I felt my airway constrict, and I struggled She put her knees on my elbows in anger And my begging made her push harder As I began to see gray, I remember a tear But not the many that I released, I know Because I felt it patter onto my dying face And I sputtered and arched my back, hoping And Chelsea only pressed harder, murderous As I drifted out of consciousness, I heard My brothers voice, sweet brother Damien And he slapped Chelsea and pulled her off As I curled up and breathed delicious air And he caressed my face, and hugged me That night acted as a catalyst for hatred And within myself I bred a monster But I suppose I cannot give credit for My mistakes, to the true genesis of pain I just haven't found anything else to blame
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Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 4:15 AM UTC
Birth Of Hatred
Haitian style independence no more whiteness at all type independence playing three rhythms at once independence blackness take over the entire American sports and political world independence Went south to join the Seminoles fight against the colonists killer abolitionists dangerous and feared independence economic the beginning of the union no more free labor regulate that government paper bag 40 acres and we are not ******* mules independence organized black militants killing burning plantations of whiteness yearning independence captivating white audiences nationwide scurrying to the legal system to constrict the laws make more weapons make more conflict make it more dangerous to be black independence You will never find us again whiteness that independence
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Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
Voodoo...
I don't have pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. I'll stay away from Yellowstone. If one's asthmatic in the Eifel region You don't pronounce the "P." This won't **** me. I don't have COPD. Everyone coughs in blue smoke. My throaty itch won't **** me. I won't constrict and choke. I don't have an infectious disease, Despite my personality. I run for shelter in acid rain. I drink water with ice cubes, And spray my green out back. As much as I hate to, I avoid rusty nails. *** is safe... and at a distance. Despite being repeatedly told to, I never eat **** The great imitator Is a snivelling mime. If I'm bitten, I recognize the marks. The erupting of the ring of fire won't **** me, but perhaps I was precocious To drop the "P" in Pneumonoultramicroscopicscilicovolcanoconiosis. I haven't succumb to animal flues, I stay clear from the bars. I donate to the SPCA, Bet on ponies or the odds of SARS. I don't have meningitis. I like lights and loud music. If I get the night sweats, I turn down my electric blanket. I haven't the minor or greater pox, I spurn comparisons. According to the scoop and scope, I ascend and descent C free. But the time spent on Referrals Might be the death of me. I don't have botulism. My smile still concaves down. Curling convex above it, A condescending frown. I'm not a ***** I feel every poke and like. My digits number twenty... Twenty one. My glasses are smudge free. If anything I see too well. Alcoholism can't **** me. Alcohol can. I haven't cardio entropy, But I'd be remiss To dismiss The wise counsel Oz gave me: "Hearts can never be made practical until they can be made unbreakable." So true. So true! Anyway, none of the above will get me. But, I do have what you have. The young and grown. The able and ill. A hand. A sweeping hand. A second hand Setting those infectious nonogerms Like diamonds In my Time-x.
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Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
I don't have pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. I'll stay away from Yellowstone. If one's asthmatic in the Eifel region You don't pronounce the "P." This won't **** me. I don't have COPD. Everyone coughs in blue smoke. My throaty itch won't **** me. I won't constrict and choke. I don't have an infectious disease, Despite my personality. I run for shelter in acid rain. I drink water with ice cubes, And spray my green out back. As much as I hate to, I avoid rusty nails. *** is safe... and at a distance. Despite being repeatedly told to, I never eat **** The great imitator Is a snivelling mime. If I'm bitten, I recognize the marks. The erupting of the ring of fire won't **** me, but perhaps I was precocious To drop the "P" in Pneumonoultramicroscopicscilicovolcanoconiosis. I haven't succumb to animal flues, I stay clear from the bars. I donate to the SPCA, Bet on ponies or the odds of SARS. I don't have meningitis. I like lights and loud music. If I get the night sweats, I turn down my electric blanket. I haven't the minor or greater pox, I spurn comparisons. According to the scoop and scope, I ascend and descent C free. But the time spent on Referrals Might be the death of me. I don't have botulism. My smile still concaves down. Curling convex above it, A condescending frown. I'm not a ***** I feel every poke and like. My digits number twenty... Twenty one. My glasses are smudge free. If anything I see too well. Alcoholism can't **** me. Alcohol can. I haven't cardio entropy, But I'd be remiss To dismiss The wise counsel Oz gave me: "Hearts can never be made practical until they can be made unbreakable." So true. So true! Anyway, none of the above will get me. But, I do have what you have. The young and grown. The able and ill. A hand. A sweeping hand. A second hand Setting those infectious nonogerms Like diamonds In my Time-x.
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68
a car on a warm summer night is possibly the safest place on earth i spill my heart to you as lavender paint strokes decorate the sky like a masterpiece in the louvre the sun that sets slowly on our waking hours takes away more and more of his golden light while i wish it would last longer the moon knows all my secrets your shining light creeps onto my skin through the window frame, rolled down to let the cool breeze flow through this sanctuary “artemis” i speak “i’ve missed you, my moon why must you go and stay for such a short time?” “i’m sorry, my child” she whispers to me through her beams of security “but i am here now what is troubling your heart? i feel its pain” “well, my love here on earth they must leave me too and someday they won’t come back and that day hasn’t come yet but i know it will.” “how can you be so sure? to consider someone your love is a force too powerful to be ignored it simply must be or it hurts both hearts.” “i cannot feel their heart whenever i try to, they build a wall of thorns so i cannot reach it and the thorns on their heart ***** my own and it cries through my eyes which tears you shine on.” “don’t cry, my child with every wound time heals love of any kind can prevent another bruise or scrape or stab and their thorns will soon wilt and die giving you the chance to heal them too.” “your brother peaks over the horizon,” i say it’s time that you must go.” “please remember, my child that your heart is your own and no amount of thorns will ever constrict its ability to love.”
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Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
artemis
a car on a warm summer night is possibly the safest place on earth i spill my heart to you as lavender paint strokes decorate the sky like a masterpiece in the louvre the sun that sets slowly on our waking hours takes away more and more of his golden light while i wish it would last longer the moon knows all my secrets your shining light creeps onto my skin through the window frame, rolled down to let the cool breeze flow through this sanctuary “artemis” i speak “i’ve missed you, my moon why must you go and stay for such a short time?” “i’m sorry, my child” she whispers to me through her beams of security “but i am here now what is troubling your heart? i feel its pain” “well, my love here on earth they must leave me too and someday they won’t come back and that day hasn’t come yet but i know it will.” “how can you be so sure? to consider someone your love is a force too powerful to be ignored it simply must be or it hurts both hearts.” “i cannot feel their heart whenever i try to, they build a wall of thorns so i cannot reach it and the thorns on their heart ***** my own and it cries through my eyes which tears you shine on.” “don’t cry, my child with every wound time heals love of any kind can prevent another bruise or scrape or stab and their thorns will soon wilt and die giving you the chance to heal them too.” “your brother peaks over the horizon,” i say it’s time that you must go.” “please remember, my child that your heart is your own and no amount of thorns will ever constrict its ability to love.”
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71
A couple becomes comfy...comatose Their coffins carved carefully At the cost of the cuticles That cut the cloth concealing the cause of calumny. Cut with claws Claus? Santa has no clue But the paws with the claws came from Cope, The coyote cub who clubbed with truth. Calm, Palms clasped on Aphrodite's coffee cup Caffrodite, cups Cups that carry potential - kinetic, energy, Crash! ...Chaos conceived carelessly A ****** tear This is the C-Section Confused? No concern...know care Because you are capable Superman, Cape-able But soon the caffeine kicks in, And the common carotid is cooked Killer Compare now, casualties to cows... Not so different Still, the crowd plays casual Aloof So dream of a connection concentrate in a container And swig Constrict the fists and relax To be carried off into the cosmos Consumed by clouds of gas... Below are the circus clowns Coughing, conceiving, creating. Is it a crime? To be cut off from contemplation? Akin to Galileo, craniums will roll While eyes stay still completely A quiet kiss to the clavicle of our collective cast Soothes the commotion to This clamoring performance A hush to this cacophony
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Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
C-section
days are swinging past and I wish I could finally say to you the words hiding under my pillows, behind doors, and scattered on the floors I am walking on I wish I could say to you that my knees aren't the only parts of my body that are hurting that sometimes when I sit in class I sometimes stop and stare and my throat starts to constrict while my tear ducts plan their mutiny I wish I could tell you that I still remember the sound of breaking glass and I still imagine the moment of the glass kissing the ground and, yes, I still remember how the shards sparkled as I sweeped the floors I wish I could find a better way of saying these words to you just like how perfectly arranged the bones in my body are I wish I could say to you that I fantasize about telling you these words that are years overdue and, no, I am not okay, and, no, you're wrong when you said that I don't care because I do I just don't know how to show it and I also know that maybe I'm not making sense because the real words have morphed themselves into metaphors for having been suppressed for so long and maybe I'm not making any sense at all but the bottomline of this mess is that I want to say that I'm sorry I wasn't stronger for you and me
0
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 11:49 AM UTC
childhood trauma
Mellow sunrised. The dew of the afternoon high light. Paradise sunset. Tuscany, Marigold, Chartreuse, Caramel. Amber, Copper, Olive, Saffron. Honeycomb mystery of rejection... or doubt. Freedom sparks; feet and hip dilate and constrict; lips close to feel the colors and open again, blinking to suffocate the oasis into the dull reality of smog and soot, of cemetery. The psychedelic picturesque star stares back, dusk-like fireworks of heaven gained and lost. One second that sealed his fate. Death will be hazel eyes.
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Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC
Hazel Eyes
It starts with a pinch and an itch, Between your shoulder blades, Trickling down your spine like a bead of sweat. You groan hot and heavy, Doubling over in pain clutching at your stomach, And you have this urge.... Your canines enlarge, Further sharpening. The hairs on your arms bristle. Standing on end when you hear the first tear of skin, At the base of your spine. And it splinters your mind. A wine high pitched and wanting, A gasp as your hair thickens. A pelt of fur to keep you warm, There is pain between your eyes, Your jaw stretches inhuman and ugly. Legs snap and your squatting on the floor, Arms pulled close at the elbow, Back hunched over. Dirt digs under your fingernails turned claws, As you grip the steady earth for purchase. You feel your heart beating against your shifting ribs. Strong, Fast, And aching. Lungs constrict and your eyes fly open. Blinded by the ethereal light of the full moon. You cry out, Human voice bellows loud, loud, loud! The beast sings in your ear. A roar, A howl. The transformation done. We are free.
0
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
Hello Skinwalker
They kissed you with that mouth Wrote books about you Took pictures and hung them up for beer ads For humans with high testosterone to ogle While they ******* the top of a beer bottle Like it will bring their fathers acceptance Back into their eyes. Your nine inched heels gave me whip lash Your ½ inch eyelashes gave me heartburn Your spit Indigestion Because they kissed you with that mouth. And you still believe, You asked for it You still believed you were not worth getting out of the hood for The hood what good is the hood and the hood-rats You ******* ***** in alleyways All 10 of them lined up said I might as well have the money upfront If I'm gonna **** **** I'm getting paid for it They bashed your head into concrete so hard. You forgot how your mothers voice sounded like Almost forgot how your uncles knuckles tasted like, I don’t know your story I don’t know your name I don’t know you I just know that your friend And my friends Last night Came to the conclusion That you were a **** And you were asking for it You asked for your head to be bashed into concrete And hey maybe you did Maybe you wanted something to hit you hard enough to make you forget The hate inside The misogyny you swallow and wash down the drain maybe you were there in front of 10 guys because you wanted to know what power felt like what being wanted felt like because you thought you were worth the money but they didn't because maybe that's what you asked for because maybe your mother taught you to get high and surrender with glazed eyes rather then take your higheels off and fight because your laughter sounds more broken than you do because your eyes hold remnants of your skull because you remember the taste of your blood too keenly because my friends, my female friends who are not evil or sexist my male friends the protector of women came to an agreement you asked for it put yourself in the position to smell the inside of your brain because your blood meant power because finishing them off meant swallowing or bleeding and you did some of both because maybe you chose survival because maybe you came in kicking naked and maybe thats how you wanna go out with another mans hands down your throat some to aid air some to constrict weather you bleed or swallow you are only emptying out and I tried to explain that to your friend and my friends but there is so much anger about what happend to you and none of it is directed at the ten faceless penises. Because you were once a chandelier of candles And now you are a faceless light bulb hung on the moldy hotel building Because your **** gives you free crack and My friends have disgust on their faces And I feel Pity
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Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
They kissed you with that mouth
They kissed you with that mouth Wrote books about you Took pictures and hung them up for beer ads For humans with high testosterone to ogle While they ******* the top of a beer bottle Like it will bring their fathers acceptance Back into their eyes. Your nine inched heels gave me whip lash Your ½ inch eyelashes gave me heartburn Your spit Indigestion Because they kissed you with that mouth. And you still believe, You asked for it You still believed you were not worth getting out of the hood for The hood what good is the hood and the hood-rats You ******* ***** in alleyways All 10 of them lined up said I might as well have the money upfront If I'm gonna **** **** I'm getting paid for it They bashed your head into concrete so hard. You forgot how your mothers voice sounded like Almost forgot how your uncles knuckles tasted like, I don’t know your story I don’t know your name I don’t know you I just know that your friend And my friends Last night Came to the conclusion That you were a **** And you were asking for it You asked for your head to be bashed into concrete And hey maybe you did Maybe you wanted something to hit you hard enough to make you forget The hate inside The misogyny you swallow and wash down the drain maybe you were there in front of 10 guys because you wanted to know what power felt like what being wanted felt like because you thought you were worth the money but they didn't because maybe that's what you asked for because maybe your mother taught you to get high and surrender with glazed eyes rather then take your higheels off and fight because your laughter sounds more broken than you do because your eyes hold remnants of your skull because you remember the taste of your blood too keenly because my friends, my female friends who are not evil or sexist my male friends the protector of women came to an agreement you asked for it put yourself in the position to smell the inside of your brain because your blood meant power because finishing them off meant swallowing or bleeding and you did some of both because maybe you chose survival because maybe you came in kicking naked and maybe thats how you wanna go out with another mans hands down your throat some to aid air some to constrict weather you bleed or swallow you are only emptying out and I tried to explain that to your friend and my friends but there is so much anger about what happend to you and none of it is directed at the ten faceless penises. Because you were once a chandelier of candles And now you are a faceless light bulb hung on the moldy hotel building Because your **** gives you free crack and My friends have disgust on their faces And I feel Pity
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75
I am forged in a ceramic kiln, and the sweltering heat embrittles me. their withering stares set the kiln ablaze, expecting me to stay rigid and brittle. I attempted to constrict and be good, but the fire slowly cracked me.   the heat still scorches my pieces, but each piece inches closer to the outskirts of the kiln so I can find the sticky glue and put myself back together.
0
Apr 20, 2022
Apr 20, 2022 at 11:59 PM UTC
the kiln.
Anger consumes my body, like fire from hell My body keels over from lack of food Food which I purposely neglected to provide Hate, abuse, deceit and anger take over me Pure ugliness, staring me in the face People that are supposed to care, supposed to love Who claim to care and claim to love Yet seem to me as wolves in sheep’s clothing Wanting to control me, dominate me, constrict me Who crush me over and over again And wonder why we are always butting heads Sadness creeps in my heart, but it is not mine And it saddens me more that I feel her hurt My heart aches for love, for touch, for affection It longs to love and to be loved But all it receives is sadness and pain Crying out for love, my body cries too Not with tears, but with blood A deep crimson red running out of me Staining everything in its path As this blood runs out of me, so does my strength, my energy I am exhausted and long to sleep But my mind is forever going, going, going … Why? Why? Why? Why? The question of a thousand why’s consumes me … Threatening to crush my very soul.
0
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
Pure Ugliness
it saws old rain in my skull and your thoughts take a tour; wet and heavy and quietly, the dirt shifts in the metal tracts *you break me every single time my internal spilling is entangled hopelessly* my summer-psyche enmeshed in your season and forever swallows a few more ribs don't wake the children of the light for their feathers will burn beneath my nails a storm hangs patiently on the wall like a delighted painting made from frantic crystals and I skitter from your towering moods yet the moon dances in and out of every calm abyss the lid is no more vacant than my veins cursed with your silence like algae, I slip on my terror squeaks like a vehicle possessed cheeks go ashen in my gay smiles you will blush, in secret at what I will do to you sails lift on garlicky air in a port where ships don't wait and my tongue loosens another melody only doubt hears I'm completely in your hands and willing for that crush my acts for coins fall meaningless in embedded frustration        don't come to the table, then        keep the shades drawn only the sense of phantoms will be hanging in my smoke intoxicating me to radiance racing through to the ripples in your day I'll keep lancing pebbles across the ocean's surface they will never really reach the riverbed frosty comes in agonising diamonds a feast of distress sitting urgently a shudder flutters through me, imperceptible reduction of sweetness a date with the cherubs from a netherworld my nose feels the snows you carry and I know you constrict still my language falters and thinking shatters and although slumped and vulnerable, it flourishes.
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 7:31 AM UTC
break me
it saws old rain in my skull and your thoughts take a tour; wet and heavy and quietly, the dirt shifts in the metal tracts *you break me every single time my internal spilling is entangled hopelessly* my summer-psyche enmeshed in your season and forever swallows a few more ribs don't wake the children of the light for their feathers will burn beneath my nails a storm hangs patiently on the wall like a delighted painting made from frantic crystals and I skitter from your towering moods yet the moon dances in and out of every calm abyss the lid is no more vacant than my veins cursed with your silence like algae, I slip on my terror squeaks like a vehicle possessed cheeks go ashen in my gay smiles you will blush, in secret at what I will do to you sails lift on garlicky air in a port where ships don't wait and my tongue loosens another melody only doubt hears I'm completely in your hands and willing for that crush my acts for coins fall meaningless in embedded frustration        don't come to the table, then        keep the shades drawn only the sense of phantoms will be hanging in my smoke intoxicating me to radiance racing through to the ripples in your day I'll keep lancing pebbles across the ocean's surface they will never really reach the riverbed frosty comes in agonising diamonds a feast of distress sitting urgently a shudder flutters through me, imperceptible reduction of sweetness a date with the cherubs from a netherworld my nose feels the snows you carry and I know you constrict still my language falters and thinking shatters and although slumped and vulnerable, it flourishes.
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43
In a maze of endless death Every turn is love and war Any wall can constrict any man’s sinful neck Life leaving his heart’s cold core A twisted, greedy man appears, Seeing a tangled man with a lustful expression His eyes see the treasure, gold and bright And is caught within a poisonous suppression A fierce woman soon approaches Bitter and angry, her maw and claws sharp Burning through the coils and gas Falls to endless sleep with the help of a harp A wistful child comes forth Living in envy and through a disguise Treads, like a thief, past the harp To fall into the ground through his shadow’s demise Five have failed and five faced death So an animal consumes his way through the vines Through the gas, harp, and trap Only to die by it’s purposeless cries Now a small ant rises And slowly makes his way through the maze He reaches a gate and opens the door And sees a figure that brings endless raze Who is left in this cold cruel world? Who can become the seventh to the prize? A god, a hot-headed braggart, reaches the gift And loses faith through his guilt and his lies
0
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 3:24 PM UTC
The Death of Seven