I latched on like breath
Assuming you would share
Using x-ray vison
You saw through my smile

The un-adulterated content
Blind sided you
As it had done to myself
Time and again

Beautiful intentions of yours
Please understand that I noticed
Your heart weeping my tears

A shock to your system
I should have foreseen
Having read the literacy of lows

The parasitic nature
Consumer of my relations

Digging all the way down
The filthiest of lovely
Covered in homemade mud
You pulled out box of silver
I confessed that is my love

I remember that day like it was yesterday.
What happened, you claim, was barely horseplay.
Will you ever comprehend,
That what you did, I didn’t “misunderstand”?

Perhaps you’d like to blame it on your upbringing,
Because your dad taught you to control a woman who doesn’t have the “right” thinking.
Mexican patriarchy is ******, but it is you who chose to comply with it.
So don’t claim you aren’t responsible for the sins you commit.

Today I speak,
For I refuse to be weak.
Today I’ll unfold the truth I never wanted to accept,
When I was just a little under 15 and felt completely wrecked.

I stand today to expose you **** as I’ve been,
A monster in full shape and form, guilty of ****** while you grin.
You’ve kept your eyes shut to my dreadful sensations,
But today you will listen to my crude allegations.

We were in your house in Mexico where you locked me in the basement.
You claimed you wanted privacy, but only offered me enslavement.
Maybe it really was my bad luck,
When I believed you when said you loved me, but didn’t realize you only wanted to ****.

A monster, you pinned me against the wall,
I hit my head and cried, beginning to feel like your personal doll.
Touching my head where I discovered that I bled,
I reached for your hand, but you only grabbed mine to throw me onto bed.

When I was five, mother told me monsters don’t exist,
But today I am a witness to the contrary, as I know angels and devils coexist.
You are a monster for what you did to me,
For you pretended not to hear my plea.

A monster, you tied me onto your bed,
And ripped my clothes until I was left with nothing but a thread.
I begged you to stop and pushed you away,
But you slapped me and pressing your body against mine, told me you were here to stay.

A monster, your tongue against my breast,
And I completely undressed,
I watched your face transform,
Like a caterpillar taking its new form.

You, a monster, a demon, and a coward,
Faced a broken soul who had not yet flowered.
You took your hands and forced my flower to bloom,
Though it did not unfold with pleasure, but with fear of ending in a tomb.

And like a painter facing an empty canvas,
You traced me from head to toe as I lay nearly dead on the mattress.
You carved your name onto my body and robbed me of my innocence.
A monster, you obliterated my purity, leaving bruises as evidence.

A monster, you watered my flowers with the filthiest juice,
Not with God’s purest waters, but your own waters of abuse.
I weeped and screamed and in that moment begged for a God to exist,
I even prayed, but found no angels to untie my wrists.

If you really loved me, then you would look past your lust,
But you never did and chose to break me with each and every ******.
Rocking back and forth I was controlled by you, a monstrous puppeteer,
Your *** danced down my legs as I watched you cold and with fear.

A monster, you carefully tamed me to satisfy your *** drive,
Never did I imagine I would go to Hell and come back alive.
Today I stand a witness of your repulsive proclivity,
Penetrated by a monster who awaited for the trophee he believed was my virginity.

It wasn’t just a simple “quickie”,
The way you threw me around and used me.
I may have stood still and allowed you to profanate me,  
But I always threw up once you finished touching me.

People say our dreams are reflections of our memories fused with fantasies,
But there is no magic in the nightmares I regard as tragedies.
I’ve spent four years feeling entitled to nothing but pain,
And stay awake fearing my memories will haunt me, crashing into me like a train.

I wash my body once, twice, and thrice to flush away the picture of your fingers,
Scrubbing and scrubbing to ensure I numb my skin from your smell that lingers.
Your colossal hands a million times larger than the girl they groped,
Remind her of the million times she was choked.

I only wish you could understand what it feels like to be someone’s puppet,
A doll you can pull, stretch, bend over backwards and play like a trumpet.
It’s difficult to accept I’ll always feel possessed,
That the monster who injected me with his poison jerks off to the thought of being caressed.

You are the reason I’ve sought the sharpest blade,
To slash my skin and mark your cannonade.
But I can’t slice you out of my body,
As slicing my skin with glass won’t provide me with an antibody.

A monster, you conquered my body with a single purpose,
You kept me in the darkness to guarantee your coitus.
I’m sorry my ******* wasn’t as **** as your *******,
I blowed as fast as I could to prevent a flatline on my Electrocardiography.

I’m sorry I had to fake an ******,
But I had to escape you once you threw me into a chasm.
Navigating in the maze where I was constantly abused,
Was difficult having no compass to pretend I was being seduced.

I spent years looking for an exit out of your maze,
Taking too long to realize this wasn’t only a phase.
Some blame me for being too oblivious,
For wearing a blindfold and perceiving you as chivalrous.

And perhaps you blame me for being too naive,
Because I wished for you to change on New Year’s Eve.
I sought a fairytale, forgetting Cinderella did not meet her prince,
But a wolf who impaled her with his claws and abandoned her since.

I was your slave for two long years,
And you, a monster, showed me each and every one of my fears.
But I have lived in spite of my trauma,
And today I stand to scold you for this drama.

I no longer fear the monster inside my head,
For I understand many others will dwell ahead.
But my monster will no longer haunt me in my sleep,
For now I sleep knowing I have my body to keep.

I am strong, proud and bold,
And I have found my place in this world.
No longer will I let you win,
For it is you who reeks of sin.

Does it make me sick to empathize with your situation?
To feel for your pain and share your deeply held frustration?
Is it you who is wicked for being a pervert?
Or me for wanting you to hurt?

How can I wish you the greatest agony,
When I would never want anyone, not even my monster to experience my tragedy?
I am being torn in different directions,
But I’m no longer tied down to successful erections.

Monster, I thank you for your rotten kisses,
For the hundred bruises and tight stitches.
I now know my body is a shrine,
And that I am my own lifeline.

No longer will I feel soiled by your hands.
For I have built new dams.  
I now look at my own reflection,  
And see a figure composed of fascinating lines shielding me from your infection.

I am on my way to finding my peace,
But need to put my thoughts together to find my release.
It may be forgiveness, prevention or punishment,
But no longer will I undermine my own torment.

It may sound funny when I say I wish I was a superhero,
So I would know when a girl is in danger of touch and close to Ground Zero.
I’ve lived my years carrying the guilt of watching women fall one by one,
Of never being able to prevent another unwanted son.

I now understand there is only so much I can do,
For I am an ordinary person with a big heart turned blue.
I only wish my words will inspire, the victims of this fire,
To embrace their burns and wear them as an iron attire.

My growth and strength came as a result of patience,
It took years and tears to show me a way out of complacence.
But in an effort to give you a lift,
I have found myself adrift.

I have tried to be a saviour,
Forgetting to save myself before and bring myself to shore.
Today is the day I become my own light,
And fight to stay bright in the night.

Monster, you may now live in paradise,
Walking around as the devil in disguise.
But I believe in divine retribution,
And live in peace knowing you will get your fatal conclusion.

You are a monster, and I was your prey,
But today, I am no longer in decay.
With these words I purge myself of your touch,
For I’ve released my demons back into Hell and no longer seek a crutch.

This is a beautiful "Barry Hodges" poem.*

Ah, sweet memories of that night in Blarney
In the stout-soaked suburbs of ould Cork City.
How clearly through the mist of alcoholic memory
I recall how we all piled out of Johnny's bar at closing time
****** as a load of proverbial ******* newts;
'Where to now me boys, which bar's still open?'
Shrieked spiflicated Sean O'Shannon
(that's notorious sixteen pints an hour Sean,
the man who won Strictly Come Boozing twice)
As he tottered over to his Pa's new BMW convertible,
Lucky ****** that he is to be son to a Fianna Fáil MEP,
And one not adverse to trousering a Euro or two.

'Sean, me oul' potato, de ye think ye should be driving
With that record-breakin' skinful o' stout
I just seen you put away down your greasy gullet,
Not to mention the quadruple whiskey chaser?'
Enquired loopy Liam O'Lephrechaun as he leaned over
And puked up another gallon of warmish Guinness
Over yours truly as I rolled helplessly in the Ballygrohan road
To the amusement of the gawping bystanders,
Bearing in mind there were a good dozen gobbets
Of half-digested pork scratchings in the froth
Which was causing havoc with my apparel.

So without another feckin' word being spoken
My dear drinking companions and ***** buddies
Left me prostrate and clambered gaily into the waiting car
And roared off into the enchanted Gaelic night;
Singing and smoking themselves silly simultaneously,
So full of the joys of life and the blessed bottle.
And then some ****** stupid American tourist
(doubtless dressed in hideous checked golfing trousers
with a backwards-facing baseball cap on his ugly head,
not to forget his overweight wifey crammed into the front seat
just like a huge white bloated fat-faced hippo),
Came round the next corner in a clapped out rental car
And the two of them got sent to Kingdom-sodding-Come
With a terrible metallic crash which destroyed them completely.

'Oh begorrah and *******, would ye just look at the mess
The feckin eejit's made of me Daddy's Beemer,
And it's his pride and joy so it is to be sure!'
Cried Sean O'Shannon in an alcoholic rage,
As he contemplated the largest insurance claim
In the County Cork for the past six decades,
(at least the largest legitimate one anyway).
Whilst I was trying to get my hipster pants down
To avoid filling them up with beery diarrhoea
Brought on by my involuntary bursts of joyous mirth,
(bejasus, 'twas the second time in the space of a single week
and my new girlfriend was getting a bit fussy about hygiene
bearing in mind she was thinking of taking the veil).

How fortunate old Father Tucker and Garda Sergeant O'Toole
Could both (when they'd sobered up sufficiently)
Testify later from their secure vantage point
In the rear compartment of a nearby parked hearse,
(where they were having a ******* with Deidre,
the filthiest wee **** in the whole South-Western counties)
That the accident was not dear Sean's fault at all, to be sure,
As the other stupid sober yankee ****** was driving at 75
On the wrong friggin' side of the ******' street
Or probably in the middle, come to think of it.
'Sure but Sean's the best driver this side of the Blarney Stone,
And there's no way himself would ever drive under the influence'*
They agreed sagely before going off for another jar or two
And maybe a double knee-trembler with Deidre's fat sister,
One up each of her gaping hair-rimmed orifices.

More addictive than heroine
I've tried them both
Something to marvel in
Created from loath

Can't imagine the pleasure
Can't imagine the fun
Till you've tried to measure
The pain of a gun

How long are the scars?
How deep do they go?
More numerous than stars
And you'll never know

What is your poison?
What is your drug?
Mine is a razor
I watched as it dug

And none must ever know
So never let it show

I am a *******
How long can I last like this?

The most degrading of sins?
Such terrible disgust?
Or the filthiest of wins?
My only true lust

straight from heaven itself..
we fell
just fell straight down into the darkness.
our angel wings were pure..
they slowly became engulfed into the filthiest black as we fell further with gravity
we fell through the trees
the sharp branches slit our skin and scratched the feathers of our wings as we fell
we shattered the earths surface..
we sat staring at the strangeness...
these gentle wings drooped downward around our bodies..
softly they brushed the cracking land we sat on with their gentle tips
..the tall trees hunching their claws over us whispering curses of deceit
we once shook with fear
but now this became our realm of comfort...
porcelain tears formed at the edges of our eyes
our tears never reached the ground
these hearts that once existed
sadly crystalized
our cold stone hearts stopped beating..
our eyes turned into glossy black marbles...
we could stare right through your soul if we wanted
we were
vulnerable
deepened with sadness
a sadness that was reflected through our eyes
an emotion so deeply piercing a rusted fork trying to stab through a rib cage in a repeating jabbing motion wouldn't even compare.
longing for something that we never found.
the maps to happiness were burned with the fire of hatred
hair lay over our black mirror eyes
our radiant halos diminished radiation
they dimmed to dullness..these delicate auras we cherished
yet they were replaced...
replaced with a black aura and a pair of distorted glazed horns
those twisted manifestations
I watched them arising from that pretty little head of yours as it ruptured your scull
we matched and it made me smile
I think I felt a certain beauty for these creatures we became
our eyes glossed and down cast
we do not look up to the sun anymore because it did not exist
the moon was my favorite, it spoke in tongues
take my soul and stash it 6ft under with the decay.
we manifest the lurid .
you and I.
imperfection must have a place to go with its own kind..
because nobody wants un-ordinary
you are the only one who understands what I feel...
because we feel together..
we fell together..
we are defected as two
but we can love each other..
we love each other in this distorted form of beauty.
this frozen air representing a noose choking the trachea
the thick fog blurring our sight from paradise visions
that loveliness that we are restricted to see any more
but, this vision of darkness suits my  emotions better.
we will call this place home sweet home.
this place filled with fear.
for we cast it like a spell upon the land.
this solemn forest of decrepitude
not just evil..but conniving.
we just add onto this darkness of confused, and mentally abused.
we will find more people and start designing their headstones with their bones like name tags.
you and I.
to create our own universe of this ugly beauty we define.
together we fell.
together we will fiend.

I love John, she said, euphemising me to play dead,
I said sure but inside my head I started picturing him in my bed.

Outside the filthiest room I sneakattacked and started to consume,
our lips began to fume and his smile erased the gloom.

Skipped the bread for some red wine, at least it wasnt moonshine,
couldnt walk any further on the line since it felt too ******* fine.

I knew it would be trouble as soon as I got stung by his stubble,
so we formed a brown and grey bubble, made the population double.

I find myself hiding, from all the decorous chiding,
we're foolishly sliding, in our bubble of bliss we're confiding.

Slippin by the sleeping moose, watch the penguins as they snooze,
No need to even zip the ***** since he's the drug I choose to use.

Inhale the scent of his collarbone, entering my safety zone,
watch him while he's getting ******, the smell of ****'s like his cologne.

Catching the sunrise, never knew that it could comprise such a beauty of that size,
but seein' it through his reddish eyes, makes me wanna demise the kingdom down between my thighs,
just give it away to this guy so I can keep on getting surprised by the Castlewood morning skies.

On the east end, there's a chamber
where the weak end barely
a cut beyond Ms. Short;
can you blame her?

Vigilant as hawks, there's a scent
that the crowd gawks over
on their way to pay for ******;
here the filthiest repent.

On the pavement, there's a clue
as to another payment made
by loyal patron;
we're left to wonder, who?

In Whitechapel, there's a tale
of crimson gravel split
by thick-skinned knees;
their owner has since gone stale.

The world shall fall as they fall
In their ruin, everything will follow
And so it ends

Bring in the seraphim
Tear the pure clouds, reveal the gods above
If doubt is a stronger virtue
Then I am its paragon

Women fall at lofty feet in a harem
Gorging on peasants' spines 'till faces turn mauve
Fear is the new moral breakthrough
A scale higher than the utmost echelon

The world shall destroy as they destroy
In their ruin, everything will follow
And so it ends.

The snake bite no longer stings
Calloused as a tyrant's compassion
The purest hands do grow relentless weeds
As they laze on the filthiest plots

Kings and hearts mount to slings
Foreboding most malleable deception
Blood spills bright on their letterheads
As truth gets set by red-handed bureaucrats

The world shall burn as they burn
In their ruin, everything will follow
And so it ends.

Marksmen are wealthier than diplomats
Golden bullets to the golden rule
The trend is to laugh at our silence
The principle is to break lives not dictates

There lies no purgatory for these aristocrats
On to the vile ember cesspool
Until then, they fawn in worldly omnipotence
And not one revolts, not even conscience

The world shall end as they end
In their sceptre,everything follows
And so it goes on.

One of Barry Hodges' (aka Edna's)  charming "Memories" poems

I was in the office with my colleague plump Bet
[totally one of the filthiest ***** I have ever met,
a woman so indiscriminate in selecting a bloke
that no one could be ugly enough to miss out on a poke]
When we heard the news about the Twin Towers attack,
And dear Betty was seized laughing, an aphrodisiac
So fervent it resulted in her gobbing out a lump of phlegm
Green and hideously noisome, a truly lovely gem;
"Splot"* it went onto the floor, lying there reminiscent
Of a frog hit by a passing ten ton lorry laden with cement.

I recognised the symptoms of her desire unfolding
Only too well; I knew that when she got really going
With a frenzied bout of combined giggling and regurgitation,
Only one thing could bring her back to cruel reality: mass copulation.
Thus you will not need to be a polymath to realise and know
That what fat Bet required was to be ******, fast not slow,
By at least half a dozen strong hairy men of lengthy measure
And preferably up her fat ******* for max sensual pleasure,
Whilst she doled out ******* to anyone who offered
To risk their ***** in her mouth so kindly proffered.

Thus it came to pass that I rushed through the corridors
And yelled out to one and all "Betty's got the ******",
Whereupon every red-blooded chappie in the office
[including the one-legged dwarf printer Smelly Boris,
he of the infamous wart-encrusted, donkey ****]
Dropped what he was doing and rushed to the fray headlong
Eager to get their hands on waiting Bet, without fear,  
To give her one up her quivering flabby rear
Before it got too well-stretched, with gape and sag,
Like an old, empty, recyclable, inverted shopping bag.

So, we turned on the TV set to keep an eye on
All the happenings in distant Manhattan
And to keep Bet's state of excitement on the ball;
Dear reader, if anyone ever asks me "Old chap, do you recall
Where you were when the WTC came down?"I can't forget
That, eager to get stuck in, I had just got my turn with waiting Bet,  
And seeing I was twelfth in line to give her a good poking
Her ***-hole was well and truly greased for action, O 'twas soaking.
In conclusion, my hearing was seriously damaged by her sublime
Multi-decibel screams of lust. Begorrah, but I had a grand old time.

i'm like a Dementor
i feed off human happiness,
and thus cause depression
and despair to anyone near me.

i infest the darkest, filthiest places,
i glory in decay and despair,
i drain peace, hope,
and happiness out of the air around me.


*~

I love John, she said, euphemising me to play dead,
I said sure but inside my head I started picturing him in my bed.

Outside the filthiest room I sneakattacked and started to consume,
our lips began to fume and his smile erased the gloom.

Skipped the bread for some red wine, at least it wasnt moonshine,
couldnt walk any further on the line since it felt too ******* fine.

I knew it would be trouble as soon as I got stung by his stubble,
so we formed a brown and grey bubble, made the population double.

I find myself hiding, from all the decorous chiding,
we're foolishly sliding, in our bubble of bliss we're confiding.

Slippin by the sleeping moose, watch the penguins as they snooze,
No need to even zip the ***** since he's the drug I choose to use.

Inhale the scent of his collarbone, entering my safety zone,
watch him while he's getting ******, the smell of ****'s like his cologne.

Catching the sunrise, never knew that it could comprise such a beauty of that size,
but seein' it through his reddish eyes, makes me wanna demise the kingdom down between my thighs,
just give it away to this guy so I can keep on getting surprised by the Castlewood morning skies.

she is the filthiest, her words profane
she offends me with rejection, her desires insane
can I ever find her? her - who is not hers anymore

Over several months, I have seen my name
Elongatedperforatedaccentedviolatedcelebrateddecapitatedcomm­emoratedannhilatedoverstated--
And there are too many –ateds for this simple poem to handle.
It interests me that my name is used for just about everything.
It is synonymous with the filthiest curse words,
Funniest jokes,
Heaviest insults,
Most beautiful sayings,
And oddest decrees.
I am most grateful for this.
My name is now synonymous with anything and everything.
It proves that I am much more than one
Or two
Or three
Or fifty-two
Or negative five things.

I Am Morgan.
I Am Everything.

I love John, she said, euphemising me to play dead,
I said sure but inside my head I started picturing him in my bed.

Outside the filthiest room I sneakattacked and started to consume,
our lips began to fume and his smile erased the gloom.

Skipped the bread for some red wine, at least it wasnt moonshine,
couldnt walk any further on the line since it felt too ******* fine.

I knew it would be trouble as soon as I got stung by his stubble,
so we formed a brown and grey bubble, made the population double.

I find myself hiding, from all the decorous chiding,
we're foolishly sliding, in our bubble of bliss we're confiding.

Slippin by the sleeping moose, watch the penguins as they snooze,
No need to even zip the ***** since he's the drug I choose to use.

Inhale the scent of his collarbone, entering my safety zone,
watch him while he's getting ******, the smell of ****'s like his cologne.

Catching the sunrise, never knew that it could comprise such a beauty of that size,
but seein' it through his reddish eyes, makes me wanna demise the kingdom down between my thighs,
just give it away to this guy so I can keep on getting surprised by the Castlewood morning skies.

There is so much you can give
until you run empty
there is so much you can give but
only if it's received,
accepted,
noticed.
There is only so much you can endure,
until your vessel overflows,
or filled till it cracks,
or broken,
or exploded.
" But i'm only human "
so is he
so is she
so am i
Then how is it possible to be excused of mistakes
merely over a factual statement?
Humans.
The most filthiest, demonic, heartless species
Destroying
Destructing
Damage
to the extent of the victim being
unfixable
humans destroy
then cries
and blame its own kind

( FAH )

you say that you're a mess but
all I see is beauty.
Your aura, intrudes these, dark thoughts to
flee off and bring the most incredible lighting and beauty
'cause you synonymous of these two things, it's truly **** glee that you
bring, I swear one heard the birds sing when our hearts intertwined and interlinked yet you,
pulled and held it back in because you,
believe that you're not worthy of being somebody's everything.
this breaks one but front we lead

you say that you're a mess but
your filthiest would be when you say a swear, word but
in a very weird way, it's still word with most poetry and potent waves,
you're away, away, so so away
way beyond our understanding and your lovely is immense as,
you always flee free as a bird
you're a beach I'd love to love and hold but
your hold on the shore and waves just letting go is
giving you so much burden - unnecessary - you could simply let flow
let our soul to soul take us, beyond where mortals know
let the water clean you up and make you whole .

you say you're a mess.
so what if you are?
and even if that is so, this is a mess I'd love a forever with
such beautiful melanin and aura to die for, my God, I'm flicked
it's literally lit in the, spirit and we could be warm and fiddle with
the norms and give them a little spin so we, create our own
only our own so, you feel more whole - I repeat.
and clean, as you see I'm more than happy to call you home
just pick up your soul and let's touch love road

you're a mess but
one I'd be honored and privileged to love and hold.

The  conversation between your fingers and someone  
else's  skin  is  the  most  important conversation  you  
can  ever  have.  Pleasure for  a  woman  is  connected
through  her  heart  and  her  mind.  Touch  those and
her  body  becomes  a  wonderland so don't stop until
she's a  shaking,  crying,  sweaty,  and  sticky  mess.

Touch her in all ways non physical. Give her intellectual
******* in multiples and allow temptation to drip from
her  ears.   Go  down  on  her   thoughts  and  taste  her
perception.   Learn  her soul  and she  will  fill  the void
of  your   filthiest   imaginations. . . .

I am going to undress you, touch you, taste you, because
I want you wet and hot for deep and fast and slow and
sweet. I want you under me and on top of me as well as
sitting  and  standing.   I  want  to  see  your  baby  blue  
eyes  when pleasure makes  you  light  up.

I want to hold you when you come down and try to find
your breath. I  want  everything with you  knowing  you
like a gentleman who  knows  when not to be gentle and
I   will   stimulate  your  mind  first and  go  slow. . .take
my time and make you feel my desire. . .and  let it build.

A delicate little being, slightly insane you are. Your soul
as dark as your heart is pure. . .but I wouldn't change
that  for  the  entire  world.
                                 ­                                         Jon York   2018

You're hiding all your sins in me. All your urges and twisted thoughts and deviance. You're trying to unleash it all on me, stain me with the filthiest parts of your mind, and blow off the steam and anger you try to keep so far inside yourself. You're taking all the scary, *****, unnatural parts of yourself and forcing them all on me, so you can keep yourself clean for her. So you can be her guardian angel, her knight in shining armor. Without blackened wings, or being covered in blood and oil. Stay the **** away from me. I don't need this. I don't, I really don't. You're trying to push all your darkness off on me, all the taints of lust and violence and anger and sadism that you don't want her to see. You can't do this forever. So keep adding to your own suffering. Have your shining little princess and your throne of ****. It'll all come down someday.

Tonight I’ll dream of lavender
Of fields filled with flowers
And a boy with ocean blue eyes
Who keeps his promise when he says he’ll never hurt me

It’s only at night that I allow myself to think of you
You are my filthiest thoughts
Of nights filled with laughter
Stolen kisses and sideways glances
I think about how badly I want you to touch me

Touch my hand in a dark room
Squeeze my knee in the car
Brush your fingers against my spine when we’re shopping
I don’t care what you do as long as you mean it

Tonight you’ll tell me that you love me
I’ll wake up before I get to answer
The sun shining through my blinds,
a reminder of what will never be

In my dreams you ask to kiss me
Your voice thick like honey
I say yes, sweet as sugar
I wake up and still feel the ghost of your lips on mine

Tonight I’ll beg for a nightmare
Anything to keep you off of my mind
I can’t keep loving you deeply
Breaking my own heart is a daily occurrence
I don’t have enough in me to keep from falling apart

cards on the table
no games
no pride
no protections
i love you
everything about you
and buddha knows you are not easy
i want to always be challenged by you
to fight with you about whether anger is right to express or not
to make the sweetest filthiest soul shattering love
Which neither of us can speak of

I have sunk to the deepest of depths,
walking among the lowest of the low,
along with the filthiest of the filthy,
wading through mud, trash, dirt, and ****.
I am going under,
plunging into depths no man could think desirable,
to places I never thought I would go.
But through all this falling,
I am also rising,
descending to ascend
to mountain tops,
to climb into heights no man could think imaginable,
to places I never thought I would go.
Such as with a broken bridge,
through the swift current below,
I must go under to go over,
or else never get across.

Those he met say his eyes
     Would freeze his victims’ tears
And the windows of his diseased soul
     Mirror only rabid ****** and chaos.

The currency of his homicidal
     Delusions of dominion?
War crimes that russian pens
     Helped etch into global law.

His dreams of a cleansed russia
      Need no lengthy search.
To find the filthiest part to scrub
      All he needs is a mirror.

Slaughter, lies and treachery
     Fill his curriculum vita
And his country’s patience
     Has outreached its vanishing point
Say a contemptuous goodbye
     To the butcher of Moscow.

I'll write a poem about you
and when I'm through,
I'll crumble it up,
round file it,
and set the whole thing on fire
way before anyone sees it

I hate you because you shame me
Every time I think about you
My stomach churns
Every time I scribble out a few sentences
I'm embarrassed about those written words

I'm such a liar anyway
and all I ever do with poetry
is betray myself with that truth
All I ever do with stanzas
is demonstrate my
complete lack of couth

My meaningless mouth mixing metaphors
with grit and grime
and words that
send serious shivers down the filthiest sailor’s spine

Even when I try to behave myself
I **** it up somehow
and write you wrong
I mean I'm so ******* clever man
Really
Sometimes I say **** that
makes me want to slap myself silly
And for what?
A couple of likes and kudos
from friends and strangers
that get fished in for friendship
that may or may not be real

You feeling me?
I'm glad somebody is
because I'm not
I'm glad you're here, because I'm lost
I'm hooked on some fleeting feeling
I'm hooked by some frail fallacy
of who I'm supposed to be
Vs
who I really am

I gotta be honest though
I really just don't know
My hands are in stick up mode
I surrender
Please don't shoot

At the end of it,
I guess I'm just me
so that's who I'll be
Don't pull the curtains just yet *****
I'll figure this mystery out soon enough
...you'll see

Touch her in all ways nonphysical...  
Give her intellectual ******* in multiples
  and allow temptation to drip from her ears.  

Go down on her thoughts and taste her perception.  
learn her soul and she will fill the void of your filthiest imaginations...

Never start with the hands...