"deveined" poems
*I pour my heart in ink on paper
In shades from black to red
From darkest shadow's deepest demons
To a soul laid fully bled*
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 9:09 PM UTC
The black little letters
Fall off the black block of a word grater
Inbetween the holes
Are the slices of the ink splattered
They pile on a plates platter
And a story forms the matter
Food for a face fatter
A paragraph buffet scattered
Have a seat and flll with laughter
It's a recipe for actors
Each scene a new chapter
Stirring in the plots factors
Little black letters
Walk across a books chedder
And you'll remember not to forget her
All her words rendered
Cooking in warmths splendor
Each page read was a new ember
Igniting the next pages paper
Fire in an authors blender
A purree of black letters
Drinks a tall glass of readers
Mouth breathers fill theaters
And spend millions to see her
Little black letters
Falling of the scripts
And entering gutters
They drain into alphabet ocean
And wait for a new arranged stoich
He dont know it but these
Words will find their way into the poet
And on this page I show it
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
A lonesome threshold,
yesterday was light as confetti / from a wedding that
bled in thirty litres of martyred roses / How long are
three hundred steps from a church, to stucco walls
the colour of sorrow?
Soil, the tint of blood,
ichor of mountain Gods, deveined for lost embrace
of roots / Wind whistling away regrets in the dust of
liberated souls / Would it sing for her, embalmed
in the bowels of earth’s sanguine hum?
April heat, weighted with a dirge
of tears salted in ocean / rusting the trumpet
and violin strings / Who will tune the piano for mass,
now that those musical men sailed before her,
in paper boat memoirs?
The Goliath tree rooted in bones,
a giant on such sustenance / gatekeeper of souls
tethered to fleshy sinews in beds of solitude /
Will she be interred in fruit, as he suppers
on her animated putrefaction?
Suffering, twice a child,
once a lady, she didn’t stay long to be swaddled
in linens of pity, cottons of commiserations /
Where will I store the enameled chamber *** for
when I grow up to be her likeness?
Nightshades, funneling viscous memories,
trumpeting in a pastel wilderness, alkaloid racket
waiting to sound in the poisons of prayerful echoes /
When will they bloom, toxic with grief of a swelling past,
so I may sleep as soundly as her?
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 6:18 PM UTC
Разблюто’ — это когда тебе разбили сердце, и ты после этого очень сильно напился, до тошноты. Вот тогда в организме все разблюто.
I am sorry
But, you stumbled in your lies,
and, you hurt me with goodbye.
And, I am sorry-I cant lie,
your words were more deveined,
back when I told that I can hide,
under these layers of pride.
That I have built up over lives,
of people who have affected me.
In more ways,
than I can describe,
but I can no longer
stand side,
to the words that I prided to never lie of,
Under the blood vessels that rumble
Of empathy and our dalliance
Of words more than humble
through my razbliuto of you.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Lingering anger.. perplexed reminders..
love in danger.. a destined timer..
careless words..endured..deveined..
warped mind.. evil.. deranged..
fake illusion.. brain contusion..
on a stage of untrue.. black curtains.. cover you..
stagnant water..unclear view.. jumping in without a clue..
changing sequence.. me on defense..
waiting for the hidden demons..
extreme caring..left to rot..
realizing what I thought was real.. was not..
distractions overtake you.. then I start to hate you..
I swear it always happens.. every single time..
entangled in you.. yet you're separated..
by your choice.. not mine..
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 5:17 PM UTC
Seeking embrace of the azure expanse,
A dreamer sought warmth, the value of trance.
With wings of hope, towards the sun he soared,
Seeking a freedom so deeply ignored.
Ambition seen sinister, but yet, of youth's call.
To rise above, and never to fall.
The heavens wept, for they knew his price.
For a flight too close to their own paradise.
The mournful sea watched, as his feathers deveined.
Embracing a dare, courage unrestrained.
A tale not of folly, but of a spirit so free.
A reminder of hope against fragility
In his descent, I see my reflection.
A shared desire of unbridled direction.
Not a tale sinister, nor of scorned flight,
But a hymn to the ones still chasing the light.
♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 4:18 PM UTC