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zebra Jul 2018
come to me
like nocturnes creeping
and wake me with sweet kisses
like a tongue of sapphire ash
and sharp teeth to drink
from hollowed throat willing
and we shall love,
and love,
and love
like melting candles blessed
Kate Jul 23
How'd I find myself here
In July
This winter lasts forever
and colours don't sing to me anymore
I tell the circle of trust
I don't want to 'be'
The sick theme of
Twenty Nineteen

I made promises to myself
that haven't come true
(because of you)
Katelyn Billat Oct 2017
Its name is sadness.
Violent sadness.
It's creeping up again
It is giving me anxiety
Because I don't want it
To crawl in my skin
Again and be comfortable.
With the anxiety brings depression.
It's always been there,
Never completely going away.
But I can ignore and it slows,
Grows smaller everytime
I smile and laugh.
But every time someone leaves
Me for someone shinier,
The sadness spreads like wild fire,
Like the mold on strawberries
I cannot eat.
I wish I was born thin like her,
Perfect like her,
Golden like her,
The one who steals them away.
As I watch the monster crawling
Towards me,
I analyze it.
I watch the way it moves slow,
Trying to not be discovered
Like the way I do.
It moves swiftly,
Not in pulses.
I watch it creep,
Pulling itself from
Whatever depths it came,
Like the way I do.
And that's the scariest part.
I watch it's iridescent
Nails crawl closer.
It has a diamond ring.
...
So do I.
Alyssa Underwood Dec 2016
O morning sky of endless blue
Tinged with purply-pinky hue
You tell me of His mercies new
Whose heart pursues my own

O geese in wingèd winter's flight
Your honking cries arouse delight
And lift my gaze to seek thy sight
As wooing from His hand

O softest breeze which skims my face
And stirs with such mysterious grace
My soul to reach for Love’s embrace
You brush me with His kiss

O snowflakes falling to the ground
You pierce my heart without a sound
To crave a purity only found
Beneath a bloodied cross

O setting sun in half-light glowing
Waning day’s last glorious blush showing
You paint with fire my spirit’s own knowing—
This life is fading fast

O stars of midnight’s blackest sky
Paraded forth, you pull my eye
Toward One Who speaks this ceaseless cry:
“I’m coming back for you.”

O creeping fog to dawn’s light clinging
You whisper, Love’s veiled message bringing,
With haunting echoes faintly singing,
“Lose all of you in Him.”
~~~

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world."  ~ Psalm 19:1-4a

~~~
Donall Dempsey Aug 2018
MIST CREEPING SLOWLY

The morning found
only blood & feathers.

The fox leaving
only Death

& its presence

& the gossip of the frightened chickens.

My uncle swearing
‘til the sky was blue

(early morning clouds that the sun shone through) .

An embarrassed ****
like a mad alarm clock

crying like a cartoon “****-a-doodle-do! ”

My uncle dispatching him
with a quick kick.

“Oh yeah, and where the hell were you? ”

I take in the scene of the massacre
& whisper:

“I sure wouldn’t like to be    a chicken! ”

*    *      *

All that next week
my uncle stalked the chicken coup
waiting for the fox

who was clever enough
not to turn up

until the eight day
driven by his hunger & his nature

she stared into my uncle’s cold metallic sight
& the evil acrid smell of a cartridge caught in flight

as both it & the fox(shot through the head)  
fell dead

at my uncle’s muddied boot.

My gentle uncle delirious with Death
the frosted air
stained with his breath.

His voice almost transformed
into an animalistic hoot:

“Hey boy, betcha didn’t know I
could shoot! ”

The good side of the fox’s face
seemed to still laugh
at the very idea of Death.

I whimpered:

“I sure wouldn’t like to be    a fox! ”

The countryside
brutal & Biblical

demanding

a life for a life

Yet all I could see
was Death...Death.

Priest-like...

I knelt & whispered
a quick act of contrition
to the fox’s carcase.

My uncle probably thought
I was barmy.

That night in celebration
my uncle wrung a chicken’s neck

(the chicken’s name was Patricia)  

& I declined the clean
white breast

still haunted

by the chicken & the fox’s

death.
Bryan Lunsford May 2018
With a rush of burning desires,
I turn your world, as I touch you, into a ball of fire,

With our sweat that falls (in this room of degrees creeping higher and higher)
I slip off your bra, and proceed to strip you from the rest of your attire,

As with a look in your eyes that's electric as a live wire,
The grip of my hands around the curves of your frame become tighter and tighter,

And there, with thuds of the baseboard knocking at the wall, here, I treat this moment ever so dire,

Where I pull you in close--in this room full of yearning fire,

And make love to you--
With my body full of rushing--burning desires
mariamme Jul 2018
they say the walls talk:
four, of blank off white,
plaster & wallpaper plastered
with whispered conversations
the years peeling like paint
& if you're silent like me,
you could hear the pain behind
& the pretty words too.
lovers from twenty years ago-
hear the flowers in their mouths
petals of lust against the grain.
stifled crying in the corner,
shadowed still & dusty
with months of neglect.
the past finds it's fingerholds yet,
creeping back into our homes
as though we had never left,
& neither had the others.
so many things are said
in the silence of four blank walls,
soon to be covered by
pretty things that cannot mute
the remembering of pain.
26 july 2018
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
O morning sky of endless blue
Tinged with purply-pinky hue
You tell me of His mercies new
Whose heart pursues my own

O geese in wingèd winter's flight
Your honking cries arouse delight
And lift my gaze to seek thy sight
As wooing from His hand

O softest breeze which skims my face
And stirs with such mysterious grace
My soul to reach for Love’s embrace
You brush me with His kiss

O snowflakes falling to the ground
You pierce my heart without a sound
To crave a purity only found
Beneath a bloodied cross

O setting sun in half-light glowing
Waning day’s last glorious blush showing
You paint with fire my spirit’s own knowing—
This life is fading fast

O stars of midnight’s blackest sky
Paraded forth, you pull my eye
Toward One Who speaks this ceaseless cry:
“I’m coming back for you.”

O creeping fog to dawn’s light clinging
You whisper, Love’s veiled message bringing,
With haunting echoes faintly singing,
“Lose all of you in Him.”
Laine Viv May 2014
You never
told me
you were
a ghost,
Dear,
creeping into
my mind
at night.
The inner growl Jul 2018
Ooooh my patience is so thin

I don’t even know where to begin

You say my voice is loud

But I think you’re the only one listenin’


I know that’s not true
But it’s like I’m painting in the wrong hue

To a colorblind audience
Who can’t even tell the difference

Burn the canvas or let the colors run?

Holes here and there from my tiny sharp blade
Colors bleeding in the fibers and leaving a stain

All of this is just contraction pains

I can’t wait for the fresh breath of this rebirth of gain.
Noel Oct 2013
The Circle of the Mushroom Ring:
Apocalyptic Sanctification

Feasting I wonder when the crumble will begin?
Alas we wait with our circle like friend.
Darkness entwined the vines where I sit
This shall be a night we gnomes won't forget.

History, mystery they all fall down
The human like creatures know nothing in town
for when we feast from this beautiful ring
all us gnomes will dance and sing.

Singing of terror in shadows they fall
creeping through forests watching them all.
I feel the time it grows too near
my senses feel nothing but their unwelcome fear.
Burn...

Fire to fire and dust to dust
Burn the village with pleasant disgust
Reap what you sow and scream what you plead
Ashes they fall, ashes they bleed.

Our minds are tuned with the ring of fate
We are the gods we create.
A mindless journey to tame the souls
to fill our empty heart-seeking holes.

Chanting and dancing we cheer through the streets
the wind of fire such a beautiful beat.
The cries of the children echo in flame
as I mock there howls with laughter of pain.

Steady I walk designing it all
Flooded by voices of the gnomes violent call.
Releasing the rage, spear-stick in my hand
right through the head, bold where I stand.

The village simmers but we do not
Tearing apart what we feel should rot.
The ground is no place for the blood of men
ashes to ashes amen to amend
The cravings wont stop, or my eyes will bleed.
for the fate of mankind is the mushroom ring.

-Do not forgive us for we have not sinned
We bless mother earth through our beautiful wind.-
Spenser Bennett Jun 2016
I feel like an imitation
Of my own reflection
Despondency creeping over
The rivers in my veins
Corrupted
laura Mar 2018
speaking to you as if i'm speaking to the dead
don't believe in any woman besides you
think and say i'm a disaster, you're probably right

first words spoken since i turned 16
wonder if i stayed home i wouldn't end up
like a longsword made out of dents

i'm moving quiet through the rain and the night
creeping but i'm not shy, just not interested
these days, just that my mom is the only woman
who can change me
zebra Aug 2016
on the first date
she confided in me
i have a chromosomal disorder, disorder, disorder
i need love and pain strangely mixed together
my elixirs
i suffer reality distoooorrtions
a ghastly Vatican of ****** compulsions
my soul is black matter
my **** a seething cauldron of despicable desire
my *** cries for homicidal cruelty

mold me into a *******
fold me like a two dollar beach chair
the wrong way
tear me to bits
unwind my intestine
eat me like a blood ******* ghoul
make me squirm like an anime victim

i thought oh finally a soul mate
with soul

strange as a Dionysian mad hatter on hallucinogenics
hot girl creeping
grimacing at me
meandering conjurations by ****** contortions
stunning impersonations of a Fellini impaling
shes a famous artist
keeps broodish bowels and blood tampons in stainless vitrines
spot lighted
ready for her debut at the
Museum of Modern Art

she blows torrents of snot like ****
her beautiful desperate tongue searching the upper lip
a salty runny viscoses snack
oozy
finding it finally with her frenetic tongue
feeding her gooey ****
with wet fingers
oh yummy yum goo
up her *** too

first smiling then hideous scowls
exposed teeth
posing with a knife
wana see me cut my self bad boy, she taunts
wana see my impersonation of pizza with extra tomato sauce

blood blood *** in the be in the bed
wipe it up with ****** bread

some how she miraculously bulges her eyes out
then performs, ******* lips as if a minnow in a fish jar

pointing to her ***
giving me that **** hurt me twisted look
how about a peanut butter jelly ******* sandwich
with a side of ****** feet
**** and **** on toes
its especially prized this day of the month
as her **** tears like a vampires mouth, a torrent of blood
pouting **** with white red stained thighs that break a mans heart
*** nothing at all she quips
just a little accident
do you like it?
as she glares like an invitation
to play slip and slide bare foot in her puddle of blood

oh she made me *****
my cherry red **** having a nervous breakdown
from apoplectic horror gasms
a dose of heavens hell

i want her
she is voluptuous like a dozen venomous snakes
copulating in warm soup dark water everglades
she is slither theater

curdling screams
then muggling *******
brought on by the first belly stab
falling to her knees
looking up shocked
mouth gaping
eyes wide
grinning
glance steady
holding holding holding
the belly cut
a cacophonous modern dance of agony
followed by rapturous convulsing *******
that went on and on and on

get a bat she implored

she is a real ******* movie star
the Greta Garbo of *****
a dark jewel
a must have
a hell wife
goddess of dread
a ******* *** genius
my best girl ever

fused by desire
we kissed like **** loving catholic priests
in adoration of their savior
young boy *** castrato hitting the high notes


she looked up with desperation
eyes with glittering tears
and said
are you my black knight?
do you know how to hurt a girl
are you my
Vex Mallus
Dr Satan
Marquis De Sick
Nick Nick
Dark Officer
Remus the Werewolf
Dom Sugar Daddy
Pit Bull
Tommy the Tummy Gutter
5 o'clock Shadow
London Cabby
Amputee ******
Uncle Surgery Gone Wrong
King of the Carpathian Vampires
my sweet kissy Kitten

ooohh yes i said
i am all that for loves sake
albeit twisted
i am what you crave.. your no taboo lover boy
your ******* licking foot slave with a razor in hand
a bubble of poison between my legs
your homicidal suicidal cockealiciousness

she said good,
now that we have that settled
can we go out for dinner
ill be dressed in a jiffy
if i can find my dead skirt
of soft white gauze
with that lovely motif of dread red
and my precious toe tag jewelery
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story, not judge me, although i admit to my paraphilias  
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about and then again  you may feel more complete some how if you do....I always loved that dark thing that sleeps with in me
Knit Personality Sep 2016
A shadow person's creeping near:
   I see him creep near by.
He chills me, fills my heart with fear.
   I wish he'd go! or die!

He's hanging, like a hemorrhoid,
   Around.  I don't know why.
(Or maybe I'm just paranoid
   And really really high.)

O.O
Lone Luna Dec 2015
Darkness is creeping into the corners of the room,
I wonder where the Christmas lights had gone?
And so are the bells and the jolly Christmas carols?
Is it over? Already over?
The night is still young
But everybody is fast asleep
The silence is ear-splitting
I am not use to this
No more gold, no more red
Just Christmas blues
Luna
Carter Ginter Oct 2015
Creeping through my late night dreams
I hear you calling out to me

Your eyes shine brightly ocean blue
and then I fall back down for you

Hold my heart and let it beat
Bump bump bee bump in the street

The streets of my brain echo loud
praying that you can hear the sound

Crashing glass as pieces fall
my heart is breaking after all

Cause I awoke and all I see
is darkness, O! twas just a dream

Screaming out at its last gasp
My heart is belting "Free At Last!"
King Panda Dec 2017
spark the flask—the vitality
of natured *****
and

tears (they fall again)

releasing the bloodied heron from
sleep—

yesterday,

I drew a lead around you
and harnessed your heart
like a dog and (for the first time)
you

were on your own,
schmaltzy from

daddy’s liquor.

this

blindfolded euphoria
creeping in channel 99’s

static—how

I’d drink you whole
until my toes swelled up

rough and one-rooted
v V v Feb 2011
I continue in darkness while
supposed light shines in the distance;

distant and unattainable
beyond a purple fog on its hands and knees
feeling its way through the night
like an angel of death.

Where is the light so many refer to?

I’ve died a thousand deaths but only seen
the purple fog nothingness creeping like
a rising river

tumbling over sand bags.

I have not seen light.
Published at Pyrokinection in January 2013
Cindra Carr Oct 2010
The slow creeping numbness crawls up my legs.
This is the little death.
The fading tells me I’ve lost something.
I am lost.
I drift down in the darkness every time.
I am lost.
My whispers go unheard.
I am lost.
I know my lips are moving because I can hear the words
Garbled and lost in the darkness.
I am lost.
The echoes of the words lose themselves in my fading mind.
There is nothing left.
Darkness reigns again and the numbness finished its journey.
I am lost.

cc2010
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