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"exorcise" poems
There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other. Something comforting. It is a comfort only very damaged people understand- the tacit agreement to cause pain, and to receive it. Pleasure is for people who have what they want. But for those of us who are starving, ours is best peppered with suffering. Being with someone who understands that carries its own worth- I don't want you to make me feel good. I couldn't stand it if you did. I don't want you to touch me gently, or ask if I'm alright, or stop to look into my eyes. I am starving, and so are you: I want your teeth. I want you to make me hurt. And I want to hurt you. I want you to hurt me because I'm not him, and I want to hurt you because you're not her. We want to see each other suffer because we are starving and we need to feel that someone else is. Don't hold back. I want you to lower me because I'm too good for her. Don't love me, don't caress me. Dig your nails in. Drip candlewax on my stomach. One step down from torture is all I can stand in the way of human connection, when it isn't her. Punish me for looking at her like a baleful puppy tonight, even as you waited in my room with your soft skin and your sharp teeth. There is nothing you can do that will be too violent, too brutal, too sadistic. I don't want to be loved right now. I am too raw. I want to be touched. I want to be ruined. Leave marks. Smear lipstick. Lower me because I am Too **** Good for her. Let this heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs don't matter. Help me **** it. Help me pin my demons to the bed and make them writhe, and I will do the same for you. Let's exorcise our loves tonight and banish them to hell. Let's tell our skin that it is irrelevant. Let's say **** you" to the things that bind us. I will cut your heart out for him. I will kiss your scars, not to heal them but to remind you that when you put them there you fought for something, something we both fight for now. Hurt me. Fight her. Do it for her. Do it for her because I'm not good enough to hurt. Do it for her because I'm TOO good to hurt. Crush me. You could boil me alive and it wouldn't make up for her, so at least leave me bruised.   I will give you what you need, and you will give me what I need: not love, but contact. Please, Let my heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs Don't Matter. There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
0
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 3:55 AM UTC
I HAVE NO DESIRE TO BE BEAUTIFUL, IF I AM TOO BEAUTIFUL TO TOUCH
There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other. Something comforting. It is a comfort only very damaged people understand- the tacit agreement to cause pain, and to receive it. Pleasure is for people who have what they want. But for those of us who are starving, ours is best peppered with suffering. Being with someone who understands that carries its own worth- I don't want you to make me feel good. I couldn't stand it if you did. I don't want you to touch me gently, or ask if I'm alright, or stop to look into my eyes. I am starving, and so are you: I want your teeth. I want you to make me hurt. And I want to hurt you. I want you to hurt me because I'm not him, and I want to hurt you because you're not her. We want to see each other suffer because we are starving and we need to feel that someone else is. Don't hold back. I want you to lower me because I'm too good for her. Don't love me, don't caress me. Dig your nails in. Drip candlewax on my stomach. One step down from torture is all I can stand in the way of human connection, when it isn't her. Punish me for looking at her like a baleful puppy tonight, even as you waited in my room with your soft skin and your sharp teeth. There is nothing you can do that will be too violent, too brutal, too sadistic. I don't want to be loved right now. I am too raw. I want to be touched. I want to be ruined. Leave marks. Smear lipstick. Lower me because I am Too **** Good for her. Let this heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs don't matter. Help me **** it. Help me pin my demons to the bed and make them writhe, and I will do the same for you. Let's exorcise our loves tonight and banish them to hell. Let's tell our skin that it is irrelevant. Let's say **** you" to the things that bind us. I will cut your heart out for him. I will kiss your scars, not to heal them but to remind you that when you put them there you fought for something, something we both fight for now. Hurt me. Fight her. Do it for her. Do it for her because I'm not good enough to hurt. Do it for her because I'm TOO good to hurt. Crush me. You could boil me alive and it wouldn't make up for her, so at least leave me bruised.   I will give you what you need, and you will give me what I need: not love, but contact. Please, Let my heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs Don't Matter. There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
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42
Something lives below my skin, It’s burrowed down, deep within It burns my body, wearing me thin And that ***** won’t ever give in It scrabbles and rives, as I tear me apart With nails like knives, so close to my heart I claw at my limbs with fingers that seek To split open my flesh, the tissue so weak Blood busts forth as I tear at the itch As I work hard to get rid of this ***** My nails dyed red, I can not stop now The need so strong, to exorcise it somehow Covered in scars, scabbing and sore As I cry with the pain, limbs ragged and raw I pause for a moment waiting to see If it is no longer residing in me Holding my breath, maybe its gone If I can’t rid myself of this wrong This dark demon will drive me insane But it comes crawling again and again Something lives below my skin, It’s burrowed down, deep within It burns my body, wearing me thin And that ***** won’t ever give in
0
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
My Itch
It's a new dawn as the sun kiss the grounds where wet dew penetrates the green grass fresh happenings opens like a lotus flower giving some purity from the murkiest pond Ohh gentle wind of this pristine winter embrace me in the song of the unborn day let the disuse be the productivity that I long let the grieve be the rebirth of new hope Ohh gentle warmth of the sun ray stroke shine the light and guide me in the day let the vision of my happiness unfold let the rocky cliffs clear to never return Ohh gentle rain from above the clouds wash the stained fuelled thoughts today let the pride of life don the paradise let the joy of life exorcise the yesterdays
0
Dec 26, 2016
Dec 26, 2016 at 5:42 AM UTC
The New Dawn
Going on a road trip Something for my soul It's gonna take a while But, it's gonna make me whole I'm going to cross the country But, I'll start on both the coasts I've been in too many bottles Have to exorcise some ghosts Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where the dream did end Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where I'll start to mend Greyhound bus out of the east From the Maritimes my son I'll venture through Quebec as well This is journey number one I'll stop and meet the people Get their stories, of the man I'll find the ones who met him Try to learn just what I can Adversity, I've had my share Always tried self medication Now, I need to find myself This will take some dedication I'll head on through Ontario On the Trans Canada Highway route And I'll try lose my demons Give my devils all the boot Brick by brick I'll bring down the walls That over years I've built Bricks made up of hate and rage by love, and fear and guilt From the west, I'll make my way Do the highway he could not Through the rocky mountains Every mile is hard fought I'll learn about the person Who he was and who I am I'll come through the fire stronger I'll be a much better man I will bus across the prairies Through the Manitoba cold I will focus on my endgame I'll learn from what I'm told Two journeys I will travel Neither one from coast to coast But, both are to be ended by that famous mile post Maybe I can find the answer Join myself, go through the door As he joined a nation So many years before Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where my journey ends Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where I'll start to mend
0
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
Marker Three Three Three Nine
Going on a road trip Something for my soul It's gonna take a while But, it's gonna make me whole I'm going to cross the country But, I'll start on both the coasts I've been in too many bottles Have to exorcise some ghosts Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where the dream did end Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where I'll start to mend Greyhound bus out of the east From the Maritimes my son I'll venture through Quebec as well This is journey number one I'll stop and meet the people Get their stories, of the man I'll find the ones who met him Try to learn just what I can Adversity, I've had my share Always tried self medication Now, I need to find myself This will take some dedication I'll head on through Ontario On the Trans Canada Highway route And I'll try lose my demons Give my devils all the boot Brick by brick I'll bring down the walls That over years I've built Bricks made up of hate and rage by love, and fear and guilt From the west, I'll make my way Do the highway he could not Through the rocky mountains Every mile is hard fought I'll learn about the person Who he was and who I am I'll come through the fire stronger I'll be a much better man I will bus across the prairies Through the Manitoba cold I will focus on my endgame I'll learn from what I'm told Two journeys I will travel Neither one from coast to coast But, both are to be ended by that famous mile post Maybe I can find the answer Join myself, go through the door As he joined a nation So many years before Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where my journey ends Mile Marker Three Three Three Nine That's where I'll start to mend
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56
[Crime-scene. Time ceases to exist for YOU, the necrophile. YOU are on top of the corpse.] YOU: Cadaver, corpse, a body's just a body and yes, I'm guilty, sleeping with the dead it loves me, then it doesn't love me.                                                               [Beat] The rosary you must! To rest in peace, so transfigure me baby while warm on my bed. Cadaver, corpse, a body's still a body. Indulge me; martyr to your livid beads please intercede for me, oh, please I beg for it loves me, then it doesn't love me.                                                               [Beat] Now shall I exorcise you; set you free, from the purgatory found between my legs? My body, yours a corpse, but still a body, And when your sinews loosen, skin erased by time who shows no mercy for the dead, will you still love me then, or won't you?                                                               [Beat] To resurrect is daunting, but you shall have the body that my kiss declares undead. Cadaver, corpse, a body's just a body, which loves me, 'til it doesn't love me.                                                               [Exeunt]
0
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 3:03 PM UTC
The Necrophile's Soliloquy
Its a phantom in my conscience that haunts my evenings often but is gone when the sun arises where the tortures remain constant I am not what you see these were not my dreams a cartoon buffoon for you to point and laugh with glee This isnt why I did this I didnt know the expense I put my heart for all to see to verify my existence Trying to exorcise my insides by the tears that I cry but it doesnt wash away the pain within my mind When most of these people only see me for my alter ego they want the struggling of my soul searching to always remain feeble So sorry Im untrusting all I wanted was a friend yet again when I have nothing theyre all gone with the wind Hollow another bottle heres another ***** be our joker of sorrow expose your madness some more Youre here for our amusement you have a gift so use it split your personality give us the one that self abuses Why are you so quiet? its not the Jeremy that I know isnt it time to riot? where is your red nose?
0
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
Clown
I can’t get to sleep at night for fear of what I see, There is definitely something strange happening to me. I see Demons in my bedroom dancing round my bed- Devils on my inner lids poisoning my head. Beelzebub is running riot driving me insane, Demons just won’t let me rest-they’re causing grief and pain. I’ve tried taking tablets; I’ve tried counting sheep But nothing ever seems to work I still can’t get to sleep. ‘Cause there’s Demons in my bedroom, screaming and a prancing. Every time I close my eyes I see the Devil dancing. Weir wolfs howling all night through, Old Nick running riot. Perhaps it is the food I eat, I’ll have to change my diet. Sometimes I sneak to bed real late and try to be unheard But in the cupboards they must wait, I know it sounds absurd. As soon as I turn off the light and snuggle down to sleep I get the most enormous fright when out they start to creep. They just won’t keep from out my head- Moonlight wakes the living dead. Demons dance and weir wolf’s scream; I know that it’s not just a dream, ‘Cause I can’t get to sleep at all Sometimes it drives me up the wall. I toss and turn and scream and shout, The neighbours ask what it’s about. But I’m afraid to ever say They’ll think I’m mental straight away, What normal person sees this sight? When off to bed they go at night? I don’t know, I can’t explain, I know it’s driving me insane. I’ll ask the vicar round for tea, Then ask him if he’ll stay with me To exorcise these hellish visions; He’s sure to make the right decisions. He shouldn’t ask or be judgemental Even if he thinks I’m mental. Surely there must be some hope, If there’s not I just can’t cope. I ask, could you sleep safe and sound To know your bed has Demons round? Answers truthfully, please don’t lie. No You Couldn’t! Nor can I.
0
Dec 9, 2009
Dec 9, 2009 at 9:53 AM UTC
DEMONS IN MY BEDROOM
I can’t get to sleep at night for fear of what I see, There is definitely something strange happening to me. I see Demons in my bedroom dancing round my bed- Devils on my inner lids poisoning my head. Beelzebub is running riot driving me insane, Demons just won’t let me rest-they’re causing grief and pain. I’ve tried taking tablets; I’ve tried counting sheep But nothing ever seems to work I still can’t get to sleep. ‘Cause there’s Demons in my bedroom, screaming and a prancing. Every time I close my eyes I see the Devil dancing. Weir wolfs howling all night through, Old Nick running riot. Perhaps it is the food I eat, I’ll have to change my diet. Sometimes I sneak to bed real late and try to be unheard But in the cupboards they must wait, I know it sounds absurd. As soon as I turn off the light and snuggle down to sleep I get the most enormous fright when out they start to creep. They just won’t keep from out my head- Moonlight wakes the living dead. Demons dance and weir wolf’s scream; I know that it’s not just a dream, ‘Cause I can’t get to sleep at all Sometimes it drives me up the wall. I toss and turn and scream and shout, The neighbours ask what it’s about. But I’m afraid to ever say They’ll think I’m mental straight away, What normal person sees this sight? When off to bed they go at night? I don’t know, I can’t explain, I know it’s driving me insane. I’ll ask the vicar round for tea, Then ask him if he’ll stay with me To exorcise these hellish visions; He’s sure to make the right decisions. He shouldn’t ask or be judgemental Even if he thinks I’m mental. Surely there must be some hope, If there’s not I just can’t cope. I ask, could you sleep safe and sound To know your bed has Demons round? Answers truthfully, please don’t lie. No You Couldn’t! Nor can I.
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42
i once thought how easily i could compare my love to my eating disorder sometimes i want all of you to devour you hungrily consuming you with greedy hands only to exorcise you out when i feel unworthy other times it sneaks up on me your name humming in the dark leaving me starving for nothing will satisfy but you if only i could let myself have a single taste to press my teeth upon your heart and feel your blood rising to meet mine then, once all i could taste was you once you kissed every corner of my honey soaked mouth i would spit you out before i could swallow you whole before the hurt came and ruined me entirely.
0
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 6:44 AM UTC
ravenous
A tease, a tease, oh how I am a tease, for I write poems of which you shall never ever read! I eke, I eke, these thoughts with blood as ink, on gasping pages drowning in the anguish that I bleed! I speak, I speak, of demons I've yet freed, solely expelled for exorcise, whose omens I must take heed! I tease, I tease, I do not aim to please, for I write poems of which you shall never ever read!
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May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 10:54 PM UTC
Tease
After the milking's done, Farmer gone to house and bed, Rag-tag tabbies, half-breed furs, Assemble by the milking stool Yowl a bit, then settle down to purrs. Rosined up, a straw-boned bow Emits a violinic fiddle's skirl, And one by one the mousers Stand on twos to take a matted floor. Come, let us see you pirouette, You puissant pouncers. Lightly spin those furry toes; Sheath deep those claws to put Perfection in your prances; Balance on your tails, and spin; Exercise or exorcise in cattish dances The feline feelings you are in. Dance happily and furiously... Or sinuously and slow... Whatever moods mouse- Murderers can feel or know. Enjoy the dance, ye half-breed cats. Never mind the jealous schemes of mice, Nor terroristic plots of leagues of rats.
0
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 1:15 PM UTC
Barn Dance of the Hairball Beggars II
U no, eat sins two mee, u guise knead two loose wait sew hear, aye woosh two offal ewe sum add vice Ewe can star art **** ditto menation aunt u knead too exorcise Moove eat, keep mooving moove mulch;  doe nut **** down two mulch, move you’re ***** inn smell poorshuns Ant walk two da shups in stayed off you sing da carr Dee impotent ding hiss da wheel four wear they’re’s a wheel, they’re’s all weighs a weigh goad lick loose wait anne stain hell tea
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
add vice un loosing wait
Flashbacks of a juvenile burning curiosity like the charm of a snake, outside looking in...And all the setbacks between the two sides luring the tediosity to take some straight on the side while school is in. Big ups, the cotton wool is pulled over our eyes, how do you shape-shift between freedom and destruction?? I pick you up through the rotten like a fool even though I know inside I can't escape a stiff one, while you lead them down that path of destruction. The comfort of Noah being a drunk is naive, I delve in your chemical name called Spirits. That's why you're a demon drug like how Eve and Adam were beguiled into this subliminal game and lost the Sphinx. Master of inebriation, you're probably the cause of an Old Man's flaws or the reason why we lost our Love for...The Answer to Liberation, seeing Old Timers and Mentors slip and fall on odour tavern floors... Excuse me and watch your step, tomorrow they might think I'm on drugs coz' of your transgressions. Exclude me and watch you're back, you never know...they might just think I'm a **** coz' of your aggression. Exorcise in solitude and stop disturbing the peace between families and friends. Our Sisters are now exercising fortitude in the fog, curbing their dreams by imbibing in fantasies and trends. Pains to see Good Men possessed out of success and in denial... But then again Real Men will profess out of such stress and be the Lion. Hear that...craziness cunning hard for a kiss of *** "You wanna forget your troubles?" I say Cheers to that blaziness coming hard...you can kiss my *** "Give me another double".
0
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 5:27 AM UTC
Liquefied demon
Flashbacks of a juvenile burning curiosity like the charm of a snake, outside looking in...And all the setbacks between the two sides luring the tediosity to take some straight on the side while school is in. Big ups, the cotton wool is pulled over our eyes, how do you shape-shift between freedom and destruction?? I pick you up through the rotten like a fool even though I know inside I can't escape a stiff one, while you lead them down that path of destruction. The comfort of Noah being a drunk is naive, I delve in your chemical name called Spirits. That's why you're a demon drug like how Eve and Adam were beguiled into this subliminal game and lost the Sphinx. Master of inebriation, you're probably the cause of an Old Man's flaws or the reason why we lost our Love for...The Answer to Liberation, seeing Old Timers and Mentors slip and fall on odour tavern floors... Excuse me and watch your step, tomorrow they might think I'm on drugs coz' of your transgressions. Exclude me and watch you're back, you never know...they might just think I'm a **** coz' of your aggression. Exorcise in solitude and stop disturbing the peace between families and friends. Our Sisters are now exercising fortitude in the fog, curbing their dreams by imbibing in fantasies and trends. Pains to see Good Men possessed out of success and in denial... But then again Real Men will profess out of such stress and be the Lion. Hear that...craziness cunning hard for a kiss of *** "You wanna forget your troubles?" I say Cheers to that blaziness coming hard...you can kiss my *** "Give me another double".
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9
walked along the beach barefoot, blinded by a sun that refused to rise and a past that refused to set the ethereal glow of the twilight burned violet reflections off of the ocean and the sand raised a hand to cover the glare of the sun exploding sprawling out against the horizon sun rays over the water laid out toward me like avenues of heat and radiation stretched out in endless highway or perhaps fingers caressing tendrils of light that lover you knew but never touched the violet sunrise stretches over the ocean lapping your feet tearing at them the beggar grasping at the ankle, pulling soon knee deep the violet seeping through the shore recedes as station to train and the journey continues waist deep violets bleed to orange and ****** red the sun is up yet the past still haunts with failing eyesight hindsight is still twenty twenty and the water is cool there is a breeze from the sea chest deep the avenues open up divide and collide all roads lead toward one destination the tendrils on that golden hand beckon me closer who was that lover? she once had a name neck deep and the sun is up so high up so high where are the clouds? there was supposed to be rain today water is up to the eyes and rising failing eyesight and hindsight remains twenty twenty unfortunately but for the first time it appears that I can see where I am going as well as what is behind As I submerge I feel the past close up behind me it bottles up as hot air as the demon forever clawing at my neck exhale and exorcise the sun sets violet hewed with crimson growing colder the water gets deeper reflections through the waves spears of violet jab at seaweed with failing eyesight there is no past to see there is no future there is only the sea
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
Inundate
walked along the beach barefoot, blinded by a sun that refused to rise and a past that refused to set the ethereal glow of the twilight burned violet reflections off of the ocean and the sand raised a hand to cover the glare of the sun exploding sprawling out against the horizon sun rays over the water laid out toward me like avenues of heat and radiation stretched out in endless highway or perhaps fingers caressing tendrils of light that lover you knew but never touched the violet sunrise stretches over the ocean lapping your feet tearing at them the beggar grasping at the ankle, pulling soon knee deep the violet seeping through the shore recedes as station to train and the journey continues waist deep violets bleed to orange and ****** red the sun is up yet the past still haunts with failing eyesight hindsight is still twenty twenty and the water is cool there is a breeze from the sea chest deep the avenues open up divide and collide all roads lead toward one destination the tendrils on that golden hand beckon me closer who was that lover? she once had a name neck deep and the sun is up so high up so high where are the clouds? there was supposed to be rain today water is up to the eyes and rising failing eyesight and hindsight remains twenty twenty unfortunately but for the first time it appears that I can see where I am going as well as what is behind As I submerge I feel the past close up behind me it bottles up as hot air as the demon forever clawing at my neck exhale and exorcise the sun sets violet hewed with crimson growing colder the water gets deeper reflections through the waves spears of violet jab at seaweed with failing eyesight there is no past to see there is no future there is only the sea
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98
at the navel part me with your tongue lickstrip the human until primal claws my soul undone a shuddering peak of milky peach carnal prowess rippling beats thru me marking territory in teeth and cream latching onto every inch of salted slick tentacle binding your swell into my deep I drink your being coming raw shaking thighs exorcise leaking all I'm not in glisten streaks we pry the edges and escape our bones worlds parting at ripe lips surrender me in drip glitch haven where your every eye roll, **** and murmur sends me further than I ever knew I could go
0
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 9:53 AM UTC
unzip me
Find me Medusa, wrap her snakes around my waist, they nestle into, the buzzard bee, form skulls, refusing my escape hornets haven, seeing the, ringlets form, I am reminded of those, serpents you took from, me all for your own gain, shame, pass me the apple, tainted love to wish upon despicable me my head caught, clouded feathers fuss, entwine with those branches carrying, devils food, just one crunch of that apple, killing me bearing forbidden fruit, exorcise the red demon, succulent, free shoot me with, those golden spun, oppressed, distressed, eyes of an angel, wilting within me or am I the, enslaved a figment of myself, I view daily, without, marking my skin, to know I am alive, is this me rosary beads, pray to a, Holy Spirit, keep the memory form a rosette a noose, around my neck. © Sia Jane
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Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Fruit (forbidden)
Pity for the whole world now. I wasn’t enough suffering. And when I’m in, the little things become sun. They shine in my direction and they are so strong and they are so meaningful and they are so blue and noticing them is my tragedy. I can feel the smooth wind hurting my face, why are you so gentle? You are joy of sadness, my simple need to cry out all the thorns inside, to exorcise shadows, to forget the wounds, even if they are not cured. Because when I’m in there is a grieving unknown, I can smell her, and I can see her, and I become so desperate, and I take her for me, and I like her for a moment. Then I regret it. I feel different now, I feel repelled, I feel blind, deaf and mute. I just feel us I pity the whole world now, I pity her I have to leave it for a while because I’ve just forgot the wounds. For how long? 05/2011
0
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
Yelling Cry
You had sung of grapes too and transposed curious waves of hair. But the icon grafted next to namesake had borne no resemblance. A spectral fire (you). I exorcise the evidence and tear down your temples. A different current caught you another foreign wave.
0
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 7:00 PM UTC
From words not meant for me:
And the knowledge of the hedgerow plant, I found embedded in leaf veins ... like in mine, etched along blue lines of a notebook. In the ripples on the remnants of water that pooled, before the mudflats claimed them are the striations of  ol'butot near  Naivasha. His stories tell of caves, a gleaming obsidian of a pre historic introspection. Do forty day fasts suffice to exorcise the springs of sulphur or the forced baptism of a flash flood washing six souls to Hades ? The sun glinted at me through a narrowness of fate, a gorge of interminable seconds and I marvelled at the strata of time in a warp, for it blurted out a moan. Love spoke in nuanced layers of molten flow that crawled to stillness. Can I not say that stone speaks? A couple of hundred years back in time, self titled discoverers  had seen land that had not been unseen by the thousands who lived for thousands until then. So yes, the strata spoke to me, like the striations in the leaves and the lines that were everywhere telling stories of interminable seconds. Time grooves like a death valley in an engraving, etched like a memory of that which has never been, ripples on sand, circles on water,
0
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 10:49 AM UTC
Lasting Ripples
strange isn’t it how memories pique our moods like mountains bursting through the stratosphere only to be sent plummeting to the depths of an abyss darker and deeper than Marianas Trench at the flip of a switch subtle triggers found in the way someone laughs or when a co-worker grins out of the corner of his or her mouth i see you in the characters of the literature and films we used to critique over coffee hiding in the vestiges of Daenerys Targaryen or Mélanie Laurent you are France an entire country unto yourself the smell of the sea clings to your skin cells in ways i only wish i could you are in every solitary letter of Helvetica whispering softly of things that were of things that are and of some things that have not yet come to pass you float in the carcinogenic smoke of cigarettes a silhouette corporeal particles i exorcise with equal parts relief and regret every night that i paint the town in neon colors of vibrant life i write your name when i vandalize and fantasize that you are somehow with me maybe floating happily in the molecules of aerosol spreading across the concrete you’re in every song by Brand New like the residue of dew drying on the leaves in the mid-morning light lingering even as the sun calls you home the way i lingered on your doorstep to make sure that you made it safely back inside your home i’ve come to find that i am equal parts melancholy and blithe and i think that i can finally say i’m getting better but to borrow a page from Vonnegut i’d be lying if i said i didn’t still catch myself feeling sorry about the things that no longer matter
0
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
slaughterhouse
strange isn’t it how memories pique our moods like mountains bursting through the stratosphere only to be sent plummeting to the depths of an abyss darker and deeper than Marianas Trench at the flip of a switch subtle triggers found in the way someone laughs or when a co-worker grins out of the corner of his or her mouth i see you in the characters of the literature and films we used to critique over coffee hiding in the vestiges of Daenerys Targaryen or Mélanie Laurent you are France an entire country unto yourself the smell of the sea clings to your skin cells in ways i only wish i could you are in every solitary letter of Helvetica whispering softly of things that were of things that are and of some things that have not yet come to pass you float in the carcinogenic smoke of cigarettes a silhouette corporeal particles i exorcise with equal parts relief and regret every night that i paint the town in neon colors of vibrant life i write your name when i vandalize and fantasize that you are somehow with me maybe floating happily in the molecules of aerosol spreading across the concrete you’re in every song by Brand New like the residue of dew drying on the leaves in the mid-morning light lingering even as the sun calls you home the way i lingered on your doorstep to make sure that you made it safely back inside your home i’ve come to find that i am equal parts melancholy and blithe and i think that i can finally say i’m getting better but to borrow a page from Vonnegut i’d be lying if i said i didn’t still catch myself feeling sorry about the things that no longer matter
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Can I pick your brain Off the record I got the blues But it's not cause I don't have green Don't knock it till you tape it You see I couldn't exorcise a demon But I entertained an angel He warned me of the secret destroyers But without a name, a face How do we keep the facts straight God can land in any body at any time And so can his other half The dark master in white Lays a thin-veiled canopy Turns day into a moonless night Had a lethal conversation With a top-hat man In a public place And I can't get his smug grin Out of my mind Nostalgia's just bitter Intoxicated by the trees And these god-fearing people Make it feel like voodoo Religious machinery And sunburnt souls I'm so lost What is deep and what is death What is bottom when it's cold liquid Not rock Amnesia Cruel euthanasia It came It conquered It had my eyes for a moment Then it was gone I just want to go to the place Where there is no truth Cause there is no judge One-legged animals That somehow get around
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Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 12:39 AM UTC
To Moth (III)
I stand Corrected. You were right. It was all my fault. It was my fault I couldn't handle The demons of your past While trying to Exorcise my own. It was my fault I couldn't slay The dragons Surrounding your tower And save you from yourself. It was my fault I couldn't swoop in And pluck you From the depths Of your Hell's fires. It was my fault I couldn't save you. It was all my fault Because I couldn't see Past the end of my own nose. It was my fault I learned to cook and clean And pay all the bills When I was eight years old. (You were "sick" on the couch.) It was my fault I learned self defense And how to slid a knife Between a man's ribs When I was twelve years old. (You threw me out on the street to fend for myself.) It was my fault I learned the sweet taste Of the siren named Whisky And her silken embrace's escape When I was fourteen years old. (You put the first bottle in my hand.) It was my fault I learned the power Of Death And became his closest friend When I was sixteen years old. (You said you'd never wanted me to begin with.) It was my fault I learned the truth And had to choose Between me and you And I couldn't choose you Because I had finally seen The real view: It was all my fault That I so blindly Trusted Adored Worshipped Loved you. It was all my fault. And I stand corrected.
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Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
My Fault
If only I could summon the will to banish my daemons; Exorcise the rot that for too long has brought me low; Waged a war unseen and unheard by the outside; Inside, a mutinous cacophony of a ****** battlefield; Where the parts of me unfouled by corruption, weep; Tears of crimson blood run down as flowing rivers rage; Anger, that the current refuses to change its course; Sadness, that I was the one who had diverted destiny; Swept away by tides no mortal man can hope to shake; Trapped, like mighty Atlas, beneath the weight of fate; An unfortunate purgatory of endless indecision; A fear to see myself beyond the scars I have caused; Calloused, my pessimism knows no boundaries; There can be no going back to brighter days; When days are comparable only to the blackest night; Sunrises carry the gravitas of the setting sun, reversed; Life, loses the beauty that once inspired the muse; Leaving me feeling empty, lost on 'oft forgotten seas; Praying for Charybdis to churn and drown my daemons; Finally setting me free from this self imposed slavery; Shattering the chains holding my past to my present
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Jun 15, 2024
Jun 15, 2024 at 1:21 PM UTC
My Daemons