"demonically" poems
I am not single
I am haunted
I am not in a relationship
With you
I am haunted by your
Touch
As this will make my
Skin crawl
In the good way
I am haunted by your
Love and your loving
As we make love
Again
And you bury your face into me
I become demonically possessed
I become haunted again
I am haunted by everything you do for
Me as you do me sweetly and wanted do me again
Tell me that you love me
To exorcism my demons of love
And of passion
As we lock lips
Please free me sweetly
From my haunted state
As you haunted me
Body
Mind and
Soul
I just hope
That I haunt you as you
Haunted me
Let me be in love and fall in the fire of your love
Let the flames lick my skin
As you ravage me sweetly
Make love to me
Sweetly
It is the only way
I can get out this insanity
Jan 4, 2025
Jan 4, 2025 at 7:29 PM UTC
If, as they say, the cells
of the body are replaced every seven
years, then I'm a new being
since my sons were newborn.
I have died and been reborn
neither better nor worse yet remembering
feeding them while dancing to Moment's
Notice, as they attended with new minds.
Having died, as such, I find I do not mind
quiet living with the purpose of a cell
unbound by minutes or moments
as men know them. There are seven
deadly sins, seven ways of remembering,
seven stages in which to have been or continue being.
None of them recur after one's reborn
and none are known to us from before we're born.
Of the two young people to whom I was born,
one has lately died. I do not so much mind.
Although I do not, he believed he'd be reborn
and who can say what happened to his soul or cells?
Perhaps in Christ we continue being,
or with some other deity, as the churches claim monotonously,
momentously,
demonically and deviously. It seems about as relevant that
seven
rhymes with heaven and rhyming's a mnemonic device (for
remembering).
But remembering
what? To go to the daily discipline to which you were born?
I fought seven forest fires, took seven
lovers, my sons are seven, and my mind
is the sole owner and subsidiary of these memories and
moments.
Unless I am to be reborn
they disappear with me. Masefield's poem continues to be
the most honest and chilling assessment of our souls' and cells'
disbursement. I can imagine stem cell
research may lead to a cure for dementia, loss of memory
about who you are and where you've been.
If one's not been born
this doesn't matter. But if you're being reborn,
in the sense of "he not busy being born is busy being reborn"
(Dylan),
then it is best and most correct to consider your last moment
of a continuum with moments endless and entirely in your
mind.
The mind is made of cells and moments, seven billion of them.
Remember to be born and reborn, early and often.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
Broken damnations in the form of prayer.
Handicapped nation known to glare.
Captured by an enraptured stare.
The peering eyes fulfilling a dare.
Scripture spoken in an illiterate tongue.
An angelic chorus line demonically sung.
Flying fragments of a cancerous lung.
Left heaped in a pile of excommunicated dung.
The wishful watch, with rose-colored eyes.
Their habits accompanied by universal despise.
Made to long for their own demise.
The result of some rather heinous lies.
Became fractured with a loss of vision
Despair followed, relieved of decision.
Left aimless in an act of derision.
The root being your basic long division.
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
Dive bombers, black wings spread,
satanic angels: Two crows attacked another
broken on the long grass,
consumed by grappling weeds,
unable to fly and imprisoned within
the soft melding soil as if caught
nesting; I watched from afar; a spectator at an accident
unwilling to intervene.
Darting beak, defending itself with desperate
protests: they swooped again and again-
stukas in the old war, squarking demonically
wings flapping like black pistons geared up for death-
again and again they drilled into the world of men
boring down until
in the fading light, head bowed,
the damaged crow surrendered
and vomitted out its last stored-up breath,
shining ebony slashed, in a flurry
of dangling flesh, its life hacked away-blood
dripping from its bill-
hacked away in the cold air,
its brothers, like brothers everywhere,
gorging on its flesh.
By then, I had had enough,
I refused to watch anymore. The bird
a meal for its own kind,
soon just scattered feathers
repositioning the light.
Its darkness, once a threat,
with its suggestion of forboding
now merely signalling innocence,
the victim of misrepresentation.
I left a scene that did not truly
embrace reflection, an unusual
carnival of life and death in a city
that rejected both.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
by Arcassin Burnham
Illegal substance in your mind,
High on fractured life experiences,
One life to live,
And a pair full of circumstances,
*but although you are an actual angel,
From star spangleds,
Fell hard for you,
As you hit the ground dead,
In a straight demonically crafted angle,
Wings as bright as the lights, when the ball drops,
Illuminated entrails to set sidewalks to flames,
And make your heart stop,*
Or make it skip a beat with her smile,
Touch your soul with hers eyes,
Even though you won't see her for awhile,
In your heart , her words lie,
Get it.......
Life Saver.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC
When the hand which writes takes a rest
it seems to me demonically transparent;
beneath its skin, veins like a few plants
in a fishbowl — and the blood
flows within and floods
the silence; its murmur through time
the unlived life of the ancestors
rushing into the light of my eyes.
Dumitru Chioaru, from It Might Take Me Years
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
Darkly atmosphere,
Wind of despair,
City of sitted sorrows,
Ruptured hearts of agony
Deeper than wounds.
All gone,Hope lost,
Fortunes,wealth of treasure harvest,
Painful pleasure,sacrificial pains of no reward gained.
Seasons of labour gone with the wind.
Minds of men darker and blacker full of horrows.
Even the devil pauses in marvel,
savagery of no salvage,
demonically many about creativity,
land full of mines,traps of dug pits.
Foes Upon woes,
Land without pity,city of no mercy.
Harvest of doom,gathering of of woe.
End! End! End!
World's End.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
Who am I, too write?
picking up the holy pen
scattering words, demonically
some literary, sin
Surrounded, and out gunned
talent, reigns supreme
cowering in shadow, dark
poetic, is the dream
Each scrawl, blood from sword
each quatrain, an open wound
loathing every writ, and thought
all questioned, and impugned
The pains of art, not often seen
product talks, for all
gleaning what the artist means
as epiphany a fore
the fall
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 7:59 AM UTC
I Fell In Love With The Fire (.)
I Always Try But I Never Tire,
I Won't Confront The Purest Liar (.)
Sat On The Point Of A Churches Spire.
I Won't Listen To His Hate Speech (.) I Think Of Comets 'Cause I'm Out Of Reach,
He Bristles When You Question (.)
'Cause These Thistles Have No Answers.
Prickling Up But Steadily Firing Missiles Up,
Tickles My Gut Preaching Biblical Love,
These People Are Vessels That Jesus Won't Touch,
Whilst Holding Their Crosses It All To Much.
I Won't Drink The Holy Host (.)
I'll Char That Flesh Like Toast,
I Won't Feast Upon Your Doubt (.)
Because The Beast Knows I'm About.
Satanic Child So Demonically Wild,
I Set The Scene & Keep Them All Riled,
4 Sets Of Talons But I Had Them Filed,
Compared To The Devil I'm Certainly Mild.
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
America they speak of you so demonically
America wasn't it you who separated the dark humans from the light?
I lay wake sometimes for no apparent reason watching television
I'm useless in most situations I can't control
**** you and you ballistic missiles!
America when will miss Liberty start showing justice for all?
When will you stop hiding the fact
you're not all white ?
When will you stop trying to fit into societies demands ?
When will you acknowledge the fact you are not always right ?
America why are your libraries filled with wove lies?
America when will you help without showcasing your "good deed"?
Your greedy and I'm tired of it
When can i cash my paycheck without it being yours to begin with?
America you do know you and I are a team don't you?
Your produce is too much for me
You make me want to fast like your Christian leader "Jesus"
There has to be a way to come to an agreement
Don't talk to me about College !
Colemon went overseas as a chef I doubt he'll return it'll be sinister,
I refuse to lay rest my poetic passions
America I know what I'm doing stop pushing !
Immigrants should have freedom too
ISIS started in Syria or Iraq or In the CIA
America when are you getting an exterminator?
America when does your spring cleaning begin, when you fall ?
America when will you take off your clothes?
There seems to be a confusion with gender is why i ask
Can you distract me with more propaganda
i seem to have spilled some tea
The white house is back to being the "white" house it's ancestors intended
America I use to be darker as a baby I'm not sorry
I haven't listen to the news in months, everyday someone is murdered
America can we throw away false beliefs and false idols
America can you send me the money printing machines that gets you out of debt ?
I tend to get drunk occasionally and make a fool of myself
My love life comes and goes like the L train
America I haven't told you what pain you've cause my future children
I'm talking to you
Do you really want another war?
Does everyone really want what we have or is it the bipolar opposite ?
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 9:04 AM UTC
.
... alien song
Invades the cookie cutter lovers
And their poems
.... ) •
Shape shifting their slimy bodies into
The demonically sub human forms
We see around us and in the mirror
••
Softly we lie down in silly little words
Concerning some form of twisted cookie cutter
Reality
,,,
******* and ***** and **** like that !
Tossed about like some inanimate objects
Alien toys !
Stuck on us simple to give us some deluded
Diversion !!
////
( I'm compelled to write this cause I've just been
Reading some of the " winners " of the DAILY
And my soul is puking !
////
the arrogance !
:::
All the experts on love !
And the great wisdom !
PAIN IS GOOD !!
( well .. **** you too ! )
•
The sweet sweet song
She was true to her human birth
She was still " unique "
She was still able to
LOOK AND SEE !
the beauty that she called
EVERYONE
.
We have lived together for 1000 years
///
Growing slowly together
( maybe someday we'll get married ! )
"""
Once we are free
From the cookie cutter religious folk
And their cookie cutter priests !
;:)
The day is long
The road is straight
Everybody
Hey !
LET'S GO HOME
.
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
the bright lights
dance in the rain.
a dark figure
is in the shadows.
it's large body
dances with the
lights,
demonically.
im scared,
but it cant hurt
me
behind these bars.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 12:50 AM UTC
there are in this place so many words
of wonder, regret, unbounded faith and hope
resilience and surrender... so much piety
and lust.... forgiveness and grace
they all fall perilously to their fields of purity
and offer the readers eye a ballet of sumptuous
journeying to all places remembered not
yet known... some simply discarded
ever sure we may get tripped up we
scale these walls these monuments of
other worlds and ways of navigation
in plain anticipation of revelation
or confirmation... how did I do that
would I do that, can I say that
how rich and clever or demonically
unnerving or so delicate a palette of
consonants and vowels stringing
along our hearts our minds
our landscapes our escapes
our bodies... our homes our desires
park your dreams steady your
innards zip your pants
tidy your workplace... make ready
your smiles and screams are waiting...
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 5:50 AM UTC