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September Roses Feb 2018
The flames they rise up inside of me
an inferno of words, all screaming
fighting
to be the first to break my outer shell
to be the first to break me
to make me let one slip,
to form a crack, running down my face
inviting people to pull it open.
and as curiosity consumes most,
that one inferno risen word
will be the end of me
I.
And my hair became too much

It overtook the walls
made its way into the office on the sixth floor
and then hung
like a dripping willow’s branches
over the desks

By the time they thought to find me
I’d already been wrapped up in a cocoon of brown hair  
indistinguishable from the walls
that was now
also covered in the thick strands of undulated hair

II.
everything and everyone became consumed.


III.
In hairy chrysalis, the scissors uselessly
hung on some poor frantic pair of hands
forced into pupa

IV.
It was on the third day that the streets surrounding the corporate buildings were once again
populated with people, that a young woman in heels swore she heard a
faint choral singing coming from the 5th or 6th floor of a dreary grey building.


V.
everything cocooned
everyone consumed
all in pupa

VI.
During metamorphosis, a caterpillar digests itself leaving only behind imaginal discs
that shape it’s adult body.  

everything becomes consumed.
sitting
                     in the quagmire of her self contempt
                     a flame ignites beneath
                     the blackened caldron


like
                      a frog
                      set to cook in a *** of tepid water

she
                      was clueless
                      she was being devoured
                      from the inside out
the things we do to ourselves...
Radhika Lusted Aug 2018
Someone help my soul reprieve
the damage has been done
I tried to love
But all i lost
is now what i've become
A poem i wrote when i was younger and had my first heartbreak. It literally felt like it could not escape the damage
She's this insatiable urge
gaining on me,
like a herd of horses
galloping in the treachery of the wild,
their muscles brushed to a shine
rippling down their calves
to embrace the ground
beneath their ironed hooves
shaking it up, tormenting its calm,
whipping up tremors
that know no chains and travel far.

When she's around
dust and sweat break free
with muscles aching in symphony
the heart is all worked up
like a boiler room in heat
pummeling all of its adrenaline
in one fleeting indulgence
which the universe with all its hatcheries
is itching to contain
before the raging tides in
and floods my world.

She's the elusive horizon
used to passionate chases
and the sly azure lunging at it
for one sweet glimpse of the cleavage where it conjoins with the earth
looking for Elysium that never is.
Ah! But that is what it is
for the tamed to think of love
is an impossibility
for it grows in the wild
separated by a hundred chasms
and a million mazes
waiting for a fool to cross over.

When she isn't around
the rumpled sheets tell our story
for it has seen the storms
that raged in the cavernous nights
and filled up balmy noons
with the savagery of love
still crackling like embers of fire
which have seen better days,
and, light up still, with a death wish
to tell of our smouldering lives
that thrived in spasms of our last breath.
Marco Buschini May 2017
Zeus catapulted the Earth,
Into the chasm of fire.
A cluster of stars,
Collapse under their own gravity.
The pillars of heaven,
Swirling, deep beyond.
Into the darkest depths
Of the black hole.
Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto,
All ravenously consumed.
The merciless wind,
Blows Jupiter, Into the sun.
Uranus and Neptune collide.
Colossal is the sun’s roar,
As Zeus casts Mars Far and wide.
The whirlpool of timeflow gathers!
He slumbers.
Falling, vanishing,
An eclectic disaster.
The sun meets its death,
A gasp, a burst of laughter.
A requiem for the galaxy,
A solar system, ever after.
B L Jul 2018
Doing a dance,
to wear a mask,
To play a game that you can’t stomach...
Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you,
The way you recoil from reflections of yourself.

You’d forsake your happiness, your health —
                                                  You would burn it all.

To do a dance, to wear a mask
To play a game you’ll always lose.
                                                  To look in a mirror...
             To tell an image that it’s anything but you.

But it's in that moment, that you'll find
                                you tell the unfamiliar truth
As you bleed and feed your own obliterated youth...

To feel, and then
                          to lose —
Just like the loss you always knew
                          you’d find in disappointment.
Like an unholy anointment
                          of your least desirable possessions
That retire from the heavens
                          Back to you.


To betray, and to amuse
                                                          A­lone.
The ides of irony rejoice!
               For they’ve found their lamb... or
their ever-dying muse.
                 Forsaking life itself, you clamor
To see others just like you.

And maybe, one day, one will choose
           the path that you can’t leave,
As it reciprocates to thee —
            Two partners in misery, fated to excuse
the waste of each other...
            until they find there’s nothing left.

To feel the flame within its breath consumed.

Wearing a mask,
To live a lie,
                And die a death,
                Whose dance you six-times misstep


                              And on the seventh, betrays you.

just like popcorn -

those soft, incredible clouds
appearing from what
once was

solid,
golden,
rock -

my thoughts are formed.

out of nowhere,
another pops into my mind,
joining it's fellow corns,

only to later

be consumed,
rearranged,
and discarded

by people who

aren't
even
me.


- v.m
i was eating popcorn, then this happened.
Raven Jun 2018
He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry
Marco Carlos Jul 2018
Hair, looping about, intersecting through one another, locks, like a sea of being.
Smell, scent from an unseen utopia, lingering, waiting to be consumed by my roaring lungs.
In and out, it controls, to the point of complete isolation, eyes become obsolete, lids contract, breathing in slowly the calming breeze.
Like a sea shell, the ear witnesses the origins, beat after beat, separated by intermissions of quiet, her inner mechanisms at work. I feel our souls coming alive.
Bandmate
Belittle me
We Been too mad to practice
Yeah there you go
Back in your casket

Clip them lips which you been
Flappin'
Keep Searching for better aspects
Here's some magic
How do you react when you learn what your mad at?
Bet it's dramatic
I'll bet you beg God to grant us a crumb of laughter
Cné Sep 2017
Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being

Vulnerable, ****, my heart exposed, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me

I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone

I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn

Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets

Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs

Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips

How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss

Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine

I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide.

Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness

Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress

Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night

Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight

Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy

A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy 

Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix

Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics

Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours

Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure
~
A Collaboration with Jack Jenkins.
https://hellopoetry.com/jack-jenkins/
Helena Abondano Aug 2018
I'm a shameless liar
Thoughts
lost in translation
(Softly)
consumed by the fire
Trying to see through the haze
exhaling is dire
I was counting on you to find
My Telephone wire

But don't worry, love
Any words I could have said have been said (before)
So sorry if I seem quiet tonight, love
the trembling in my voice
Shaking lips and broken words
Are worth the itching in my tongue
Jordyn Oct 2013
It used to be delusion
It used to be confusion
That consumed my mind

It used to be razors and knives
It used to  be thoughts of my past lives
That devoured all of my time

It used to be anxiety and depression
It used to be lack of another mental impression
That made happiness so hard to find

But now it's music instead of voices
And now it's love and my own choices
That make make this happy world, mine
Cné Nov 2017
he once said to me...

                 “I would blow warm
                         moist breath through
                                          your toes...
                           I would do all the
                  wonderful things
                to your big toes
                  that you do to me.
                      And most certainly
                         all the tension would  
                             drain onto me...
                               I would draw
                                every last drop
                               from your toes
                          with little messages
                         along the way of my
                      charted course
                         to come up
                      your inner channels.
        Resting in the sensitive eddies  
      behind your knees
  we both breathe fire
    wafting up and down
                         your thighs.”


.... like drips of seduction off his tongue.

And he lingered on, saying...

                   “Flaming lips wafting
             together with desire,
       reaching and pulling
          with firey licks.
       As I slide
   my wet tongue
    on up and hover,
           breathing
                     you in
                           deeply...
                           through my nostrils
                         filling my *** senses.
                       Drunk on your fumes,
                I'm consumed.
           Circling the tip
       of my nose
   around
your hard,
   pearly knot
       feeling the heat
             from your butterfly wings
            my parted lips surounding
          and easing the warmth
     of my soul onto you
with wet hot breath.
   And I ease the length
          of my tongue to rest
      completely over
    your fire breathing wings ,
               warm capable and ready..
                   leaving you in suspense.
                      Sliding ever so slightly
                           and slowly up your      
                              slick silky lips,
                     tightening the tip
                   of my tongue -
                      flick flick
                             flick flick...
             And I look deeply
           into your eyes,
                  into depths
                    you've never known.
                       And then I'll take you
                        all in, with a suction
                           you'll never escape
                             or ever want to.
      Never breaking eye contact
my tongue slides from bottom
        and presses, emphasis
         at the top slowly
        over and over
            settling you in.
                We fall into
                   a oneness
                        and find  
                        our groove.”


And I said...

“I wish I wasn't
still irritated with you
so I could fully
enjoy your seduction.”


It’s my 100th poem and thought I’d do something different. Be kind! XD
B L Jul 2018
In a wakeful contradiction, it lays fact between my fiction,
Tangling subatomics, it unravels as its tricks spin
deeper toward the outward...
                                      it won’t let up, 'til I give in.

Over matter, lay my mind…
I tell a lie to pass the time...
But there’s no reason nor a rhyme --
                                            Less still, a purpose?
I search for something to remind my mind
                     that there’s truth that isn’t worthless…

But as always, failure appears;
                              in a sort-of amnesic continuity.
And my reality lies to my own mind
                              Just as well
                              as it succeeds in its futility.
With destruction as its manifest,
It tells me that I stand my tallest
                              Upon two buckled knees.

And just as faith will find one’s doubt --
                  a search within has left without.
It seems that an answer, once sought out,
                  will be left lacking its question.
My truth divides itself,
                   as a product of infinite misdirection.

I try to substitute a reason for a rhyme.
But with no lies left to pass the time...
                              I swallow a dose of ignorance.
It goes down smoother than the truth.

In a war that started with a truce,
This world betrayed my faith to show me:
                                 that I'm only tall enough
                                 Once I’ve been
                                                         cut
                                                             down
                                                                ­     slowly.

A pill too large to swallow,
                I think I’m choking on myself . . .
Or the irony of asking,
                     “How could I be so careless?”
Here I stand, Barely standing,
                   Consumed almost entirely
By my own dry-heaving self-awareness...

Left to fight the fears that my nightmares create;
I’m still running from my past,
                          yet, haunted by my fate.
They walk beside me always,
                          shadowing wholeheartedly —
Existing as a duality, both apart from,
                         and a part of me.

These ghosts have taught me very little...
                                    Aside from what I hate.
But, I've come to learn not to fear
                                    The forceful hands of fate.
For I shudder not at the thought of destiny,
                                    Or the inevitable in time...
Instead, I fear the eventuality of the choices
That were solely, and entirely, mine.

I fear that my will may be of enough influence, alone...
That fate itself may collapse beneath decisions like my own.
Or that I, myself, might be constructing
What destruction I will find
Among my shattered spirits and convictions,
In these depths to which I climb.

The Dragon steals the waters of life,
The Dragon steals the waters of life,
  The Dragon steals the waters of life,


a Hydra eats those who lie.


This is the story of
                          Darr-en Gunn,
His life was a
                             short-en-ed one.
While hunting some snakes
                                           having no lucky breaks.
Found himself consumed by a
                                                               ­   gi-ant one.

Was warned of one snake,
                                           the seven-headed Drake.
Found himself consumed by a
                                                               ­  gi-ant one.
In Old Foggie swamps lies a place
                                                           ­      he haunts.
With a hunter digesting in a
                                                               ­ Dra-gon!


The Dragon steals the waters of life,
The Dragon steals the waters of life,
 The Dragon steals the waters of life,


a Hydra eats those who lie.


All children should learn  
                                                         ­                    of a swamp that churns.
In a place where they say
                                                                 the wa-ter burns!
Hy-dra is originally Sy-dra. 'Sy' meaning 'thief' and 'Dra' meaning water so the Hydra is a water-thief. IE: it burns up the waters of life. 'Dragon' in Proto-Indo-European(the first language) was spelled 'Dher Ghen.' So "Darren," is Dher Ghen with the 'G' silent.
Neen Dec 2016
Lord, I need some devine redemption
Because I move like a heathen through the night
Depart some solemn words of wisdom
Deliver your blessed sacred rite

My god your wrath is so sweet
I am consumed by it's salvation
Let me offer myself to you
And save myself from your damnation

My wickedness will have me burned
I make a covenant to you from this day forth
Enter me and make me clean
Fill me with your righteous seed

Command me down on my knees
I'm praying with my mouth to please
I offer myself as your possession
To use whenever at your discretion
grace snoddy Dec 2017
a new beginning starts here.
when we let the absence of words
sink in our skin and flow through
the red and blue veins.
to let silence become apart of us as a whole.
and to be ridden of awkward
and gently colored with tranquility.
when we are consumed with the most
heavenly stillness,
we appreciate the things
that normally don’t come to eye.

a new beginning starts here.
an interconnection manifested in the
deficiency of conversation.
an ambience that is better than any
formulation of sentences.
our unspoken vowels and consonants
playfully roll around
in the quiet rest of the atmosphere;
it speaks louder than your steady heartbeat
and collected breathing.
I’m a soldier
in a war
sold to the highest bidder
Biding my time
getting high
but not getting
anything out of
life

A lifer
a loser
lost his way
was on his way
on a journey
was earning
a living
was living
a life
in spite of
spitting in the face
of all I was faced with
Couldn’t face up
to the need
I was feeding
A hole
from which
my soul
was bleeding
Unknown reason
harboring this treason
give it time
it will season
Belief system
the Devil
finds pleasing

No matter
how much I tried
and from everyone hide,
including myself,
what was
deep inside
If I went
and made
an attempt
a fool I'd be,
wasted time spent
A lament
at controlling
the tide
And each day
from the next
more and more
of me died

There was a time
when all my efforts
went unheeded
and instead
succeeded
But these courtships
did not breed
or plant the seed
Instead was seething
to be
leaving
Escaping from me
with each breath
I’m breathing

A horrible time
indeed
Unfamiliar,
making me ill
Not having free will
Undeserving
and not for me
to get
Must get angry
and upset
Breaking steps
So many
missteps
I’m falling
more than I’m standing

Steps I’ve climbed
mostly blind
by my blindfold
Its knots
I bind
the moment
I ‘rise-and-shine’
so that
in time
when rising
like yeast,
the hiding
inner self
self-defeats

Every hand folding
as I’m
raising the bets,
doesn't make sense
From where
did I get
this invisible pet
Originally set
and previously molded
in the early stages
of the morning
in a story
that’s boring
and been told
time and time again
with
lost love ones
and friends

A friendly reminder
that a
“stitch-in-time”
is not
a time saver
if the referenced ‘stitch’
relied upon
was built upon
lies
Consumed
from others
that we
self tie
but mostly
force fed
by the very hand
controlled
by my head

It’s a numbing thought;
reasons sought
Elusive?
‘yes’
but pieces
caught
My peace disturbed
by actions
brought
from a desire
to numb
so that these thoughts
will be
forgotten

Decayed
and rotten
left for days
in a
wrought iron cage
Anyone
with sage
too afraid
to consume
but 'In-Doom'
I trust
and with full ******
my smile
displayed;
Forward I go
for sins
I pay
and lie within
this bed
I've made

Not night;
thick of day
No difference displayed
Skewed indifference
to the
different
paths
that have been
laid
like the path
of destruction
from this day
back
in my wake
Bindings
can't brake
A life's mistake
Lay me down
my soul
to take
Lying in state,
a viewing,
my wake
My mind
now awake
-
Cruelty's laugh
makes me
an ***
A crass reminder
of a life
that's past
Written: July 14, 2018

All rights reserved.
Jack Jenkins Feb 2017
I believed I was immune, invincible;
  to the scorching heat of your surface.
  That I wouldn't be burned up or
  consumed by the fires you stoke.

I was not strong enough to endure
  and turned to crystallized glass
  and fell into your atmosphere,
  shattering into sparkles of dust.

I fell apart in your atmosphere,
  shattered like a comet across
  the scorched plains of your
  heart and soul.

& in the darkness of your being
  I look up to your skies and I
  see your Aurora Borealis &
  I know everything is okay...
//On her//
To be wounded by love is the sweetest pain I have ever known...
ryn Jan 2015
I can't write...
     I have a stash of twenty drafts, bearing a couple of lines each
I can't crack...
     Every draft seem to have developed a shell I can't breach
I can't gather...
     My thoughts so I could nurture these drafts to fruition
I can't think...
     The clatter in my head meant only to deafen
I can't fathom...
     What went right from what had gone completely awry
I can't find...
     Much needed sanity to let soar and fly
I can't cry...
     The tears I've beckoned for so very badly
I can't scream...
     Only muffled gurgles of notions drowned at sea
I can't see...
     The bigger picture...that consumed us both
I can't hear...
     Except for the dreaded voice of reason that I loathe
I can't piece...
     Together one decent little write

I can't breathe...
     I can't breathe...*I'm losing this fight
Walking through the woods at night
Not sure where I’m at
The darkness I’m looking into
Is  overpowering
A faint light from the sky
peaks shyly through the blackness.
But not sufficient for me
To see where I am going
Paralyzed with fear
I don’t know what’s
Hiding in the darkness
Eerie silence all around
I’m gasping for air
Because I can’t breathe
I’m consumed by the fear
of what I don’t know.
That lies ahead

Copyright 2013
All rights reserved
Joseph Miller Dec 2017
One glorious moment
God said to me
"I am here"

Tears of joy
washed away my fear
as he lifted the veil
revealed his face
radiating the essence
of all things
a cosmic oneness
filled with love
beyond imagining
the mystic sees
the infinite connection
of the ultimate power

But I a mortal being
consumed by form
it seems
God withdrew
left me standing there
in a world separate
where matter divides
and boundaries form
to close the mind
and hide the truth

Yet I am blessed
to seek the light
and find myself
witness to God
true story
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