"excretes" poems
a black bat
hangs upside down
digesting a fly
his face almost human
a flying Frankenstein
he excretes
puddles of guano
like miniature buttered popcorn
a dark and wavy goulash
gods gift
to beetles and worms
dizzied overheated men look on
to an uproarious variety hour
of song and a high heeled kicks
inspiring
a tempest of throbbing
whisky drenched
folded ***** and cash
trouser trout fish,
undulant
sexed up
tape worms for love
pulse the night
egging on bunny **** pom poms
devout finger puppets of Eros
for
shimmering ****** lipstick twilled vibratos
sequined tassel spinning areolas
and lavish come **** me dance girls
bring down the house in flames
making hearts apostate
clamoring
and melt men like steaming everglades
the bat
hangs from the chandelier
licks his black lips
and looks on to panorama of hieroglyphics
hearing music
a thunderous nonsense
witnessing visions
of
flies, tasty white winged moths
and the thrill of screams
while biting the head off of another bat
in a claret stained red velvet cabaret
Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
My mouth excretes flowers on top of my mother's grave,
im still cold;
waiting for the vision of Carnero.
There are some hidden palaces
blooming their sa(n)dness
at the polluted delta
that caresses my soul.
And im letting go
the blue balloon
of your
surface.
Tomorrow at night
we will have our last dinner
with the poison spilling from red violent lips
to sacred concerto stunning fingers.
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
Butterfly wings, gently flapping
As soft as lashes against cheeks;
Delicate like sheets
Stained with ink
And a sleet of memories,
That melt and freeze.
Heat excretes from feelings,
Numbness takes you from me.
Everything turns icy, and clings
To skin and muscle and cracks in teeth.
Discreetly missing
What makes us incomplete,
Continually wishing for the perfect piece.
A slab of meat
That's shaped like me,
Whose flaws perfect
My insecurities.
A heart that fills the hole,
Half of an old soul.
The glitter that scrapes
Against fool's foiled fates.
The tongue was meant to taste
And our bodies meant to waste
So let us decay, with haste
As we breathe in a new day;
Unsure when time will wait
To help us find our way
Paved in faith, and naysay
A thread we strain as we stray
Against the grain of our brains.
Our shadows,
On the ground we paste
To stick and stay-
An eternal grave,
An ephemeral stain;
That night overtakes
And light washes away.
Still, in the rays
Dust floats with grace,
Like a butterfly
Gently flapping its wings;
Against the cheek of the sky
Our skin shall meet,
And disappear in a sigh.
-SLuR
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 3:23 AM UTC
hazy Bubbles masked with sugar fluff,
Cancer heart beating,
Will you ever not care?
Please stop pouring for blurry faces,
Your heart is too pure to strain
smiles fade to Alaskan rays,
resembling waterfalls, or maybe linen
You are loved and e n o u g h
My ghetto symphony, Dear,
joy excretes from your cowardly shell,
all you are is misunderstood...
but I understand you, Melanie.
Mending souls, fighting for acceptance.
Hmm, aren't we all?
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 2:29 AM UTC
Young love,
Sweet as honey, yet leaves
a bitter taste lingering
rendering you unable to forget him
Leaves your core coiled
in knots
leaving you bereft of butterflies
that once fluttered
Excretes voluminous tears
that never before existed
Young love,
every void filled
but as barren as land
you run miles & miles
until your heart succumbs
just to call him your man.
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC
A sigh from the hallows, we hear a last call,
Before the stars drift down as the heavens fall.
Yet the heat remains beneath the pavement,
Wanting to melt the pain of those who had created it.
A mind is distraught, and there in its canopy
Lies this surreal thought, a drawn up fantasy.
*He kisses me until my lips fall limber,
Each flake suddenly burning, as if it timber.
I draw a breath, and finally meet life
Enlightened, I climb from my strife.*
A silent exhale excretes this delusion,
Consumed, I now rest in a frozen seclusion
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
When morose cloud mourns
why it showers heavy rains
it sheds tears of melancholy
to me why it hurts and pains
when the uncle sun is furious
why it excretes red fireballs
its heat scorches all creators
every one prays for rainfalls
when stars glimmer in darkness
why their smile is so ecstatic
avid children behold them fervently
since naughty smile is so fantastic
when aunt moon shines at night
why it strews hue of its moonlight
cosmos is enthusiastic to shower
and enjoys an amazing delight
when the flowers bloom in valley
why they tempt with its fragrance
all creatures dance enthusiastically
and adore its eternal perseverance
when bumble-bee kisses a flower
it falls in love and gathers honey
then jocular bumble-bee flies away
but their love story is so funny
when nature has blessed us all
with so beautiful and catchy gifts
why it happens that human life
takes so many turns and twists
(By Kishan Negi)
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 3:35 AM UTC
The Game of Life...
Is A Tough One To Play...
If You Are Not Wise...
In The Moves That You Make...
From Finding A Wife...
To... Having A Child...
It Is NOT A Game... !!!
Because People Are Strange...
And Can Have Some...
...... Strange Ways....... ?!?
So Don’t Be Too Quick...
To Just Think You Can Link...
With Any Tom Harry...
**** Jane Or Young Sally...
Whose Lives Are An Act...
When It Comes To The Facts...
About How They Behave...
In The Cold Light of Day... !!!
And How They’ll Betray...
When They Don’t Get To Play...
The Game of Dismissing...
Because You Won’t Listen...
To What They Envision...
To Be Best For You...
They’ll Quickly Give Proof...
That They’ll Change Up The Rules...
of The Game To ABUSE...
And Then Choose To Make Moves...
That Are Those of A Baby...
Both Childish And Shady... !!!
Some People Are CRAZY...
And Can Make Your Life Seem...
Like A Nightmarish Dream...
When They Choose To Be Mean...
Demean And Then Treat...
You Just Like The FAECES...
That Their ******* Excretes... !!!
Life Has Proven To Me...
That In Our Human Breed...
Most People Are Weak...
And Are ******** That Wreak...
Pretty Much When They Speak...
And That’s EVERY Last Creed... !!!
And The Game of Life Leads...
People To Concede...
To Pulling DARK Deeds...
So That They They Can Be Seen...
To Have Made BIG MONEY... !!!
But This Brings Jealousy...
And Problems With Thieves...
Whose Game of Life CHEATS...
So Of Course... Honesty...
Is A Rule They Perceive...
To Be One They Can Leave...
In The Trash Like A Heap... !!!
While Lies Are Compiled...
To Play The Game Like...
A Fox That Is SLY... !!!
And Cunningly Plies...
His Trade To Win Games...
WHATEVER IT TAKES... !!!!!!
The Game’s INHUMANE...
Do You Get What I’m Saying... ?!?
To Cross Finish Lines...
And To Get That Cash Prize...
Some People Will Do...
ANYTHING To Survive... !!!
And Will Walk OVER You...
Just To Maintain Their Pride... !!!
Man Woman And Child...
Can Switch Up Their Style...
In The Blink of An Eye... !!!
And Won’t Even Look Back...
If You Do Not Have Cash...
To Pay Them For Favours...
They’ll Think of You LATER... !!!
Like Movers And Shakers...
And BIG Money Makers...
Who Like Today’s Vader’s...
Are People Enslavers... !!!
There Are Some Good Sides...
To The Old Game of Life...
But Before You Capsize...
You Need To Be WISE... !!!
And See That Some Smiles...
Like Most Talk Just Provides...
A Suitable Guise...
For People To FLAUNT...
And Of Course Hide Behind...
If You Play Your Cards Right...
You Can Have Some Fun Times...
Find A Husband And Wife...
Who’ll Stand By Your Side...
Til’ The Day That You Die... !!!
But In These Days And Times...
You Need To... RECOGNISE...
That It’s Really NOT WISE...
To Trust ALL Human Kind...
Cos’ Now JOKERS Run Wild... !!!
In This... TOUGH...
.... “ Game of Life “....
Sep 30, 2021
Sep 30, 2021 at 6:43 PM UTC
this world is full of lonely people
some of these people are surrounded by others
some of them are surrounded by no one
there are a lot of lonely people
i think that the world just excretes loneliness
and it comes to us like a disease
after that it doesn't go away
it stays, and it travels like the common cold
we are all reeking in the fumes of our loneliness
and there's nothing we can do about it
except sit, smile, and get used to it
we're all lonely people surrounded more other lonely people
we just don't even realize that we are
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 8:44 PM UTC
Music in its truest and purest form makes you believe that in the end it's alright, that there is forever. It quells uncertainty, shuts downs fear, heals the pain and feeds the soul... And your psyche excretes delight and you shine the light. You are born from wombs of worlds unkown, be it the void, the mist or the passion; you shine and you live.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 9:58 AM UTC
Darkness is black
but what lurks within is
dreams that will never see the light of day
Im not afraid of the dark,
i envy the unforseeable fate of a path not chosen
of dreams that will never see the light of day
Theres no blurred lines between light and darkness
The fear of what lurks within
propels me
to respect the distance between I and my dreams
Fear is a silent terrorist
An unknown enemy for the most part
a master of masquerades
That feeds on the flesh of sanity and excretes paranoia
That leaks into the streams of the heart of hearts and veto's dreams out
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
The bus whirrs and shakes and brakes and errrs
and I think of you.
It stinks and clanks and clinks
and I think of you.
Its silence is screaming, its distance is gleaming
and I think of you.
I'm far away and exhausted and the bus excretes exhaust
and I think of you.
I burr and shake and brake
and I think of you.
and I think of you.
and I think of you.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
Flower,
oh so pretty
bright and colorful, indeed pretty
plus a bonus
exudes freshness and fragrance
Gardener
that looks so shabby
clothes are worn, hands are *****
with a callus
excretes sweat and is smelly
But to know this
you must
the flower might be
a pretty sight to see
but the gardener
was the one
that took care of it, heartily
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 1:20 PM UTC
Radiance
by Michael R. Burch
for Dylan Thomas
The poet delves earth’s detritus—hard toil—
for raw-edged nouns, barbed verbs, vowels’ lush bouquet;
each syllable his pen excretes—dense soil,
dark images impacted, rooted clay.
The poet sees the sea but feels its meaning—
the teeming brine, the mirrored oval flame
that leashes and excites its turgid surface ...
then squanders years imagining love’s the same.
Belatedly he turns to what lies broken—
the scarred and furrowed plot he fiercely sifts,
among death’s sicksweet dungs and composts seeking
one element that scorches and uplifts.
Keywords/Tags: poet, words, delving, farming, sea, moon, tides, love, metaphor, earth, roots, plot, radiance, pitchblende, uranium
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 4:41 AM UTC
___the place where i am is kinder than that of outside.___
here, it has no shade of light—where i cannot be seen naked with all these wounds and bruises, all these incarnadine lines in both my wrists, thighs, and all that there is that became my canvas to paint away the heaviness in my chest out of crimson patches.
here, it smothers the gray smoke my skin excretes—hiding the rousing fume of my melting and clawed body.
here, i don't have to peel off my skin to expose all the decaying layers under it—stretched throughout my forlorn body i've been hiding behind poem bandages.
here, i don't have to fold myself to hide the most disgusted fragments of me—my body and bones perfectly fit in the soil delineated by the chrysanthemum flowers—waiting to be buried.
sometimes being here made me want not to be saved and let my body soaked in too much dark euphemism to decompose. besides, any place outside here that has light only unveil all of my deformities.
___any place outside here is tormenting.
any place outside here is cruel.
any place outside here is a curse.___
darling, any place outside here
makes me despise myself more
and just want to disappear.
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 9:27 AM UTC