"glutted" poems
consider O
woman this
my body.
for it has
lain
with empty arms
upon the giddy hills
to dream of you,
approve these
firm unsated
eyes
which have beheld
night’s speechless carnival
the painting
of the dark
with meteors
streaming from playful
immortal hands
the bursting
of the wafted stars
(in time to come you shall
remember of this night amazing
ecstasies slowly,
in the glutted
heart fleet
flowerterrible
memories
shall
rise,slowly
return upon the
red elected lips
scaleless visions)
10k
Desperate, so agonisingly glutted with yearning,
Yearning to hear my voice and to know that it resounds,
So roundly that I am all at once myself, And so much myself that I remember my eyes,
My eyes that have long been forgotten in cruel glass.
Cruel, cruel glass! I have long been abandoned, and long been a veil,
But such a thin veil that always would wane,
It's falling slowly now, like a prophecy fulfilled,
Get ready to see, get ready to be seen.
Aug 24, 2022
Aug 24, 2022 at 5:45 PM UTC
my loneliness is larger than me
heavier, too
my loneliness the thick blanket
good for hiding under
my loneliness shields me from demons in the dark
but provides no warmth
my loneliness a cold fire I still sit beside
palms upturned, craving peace
my loneliness the war that rages unending
bodies left in a ****** wake
my loneliness the vultures swirling
I have never been very strong
my loneliness knows this, as she knows
all my other bitter secrets
my loneliness licks her smiling lips
opens her screaming maw
my loneliness is larger than me
deadlier, too
Nov 27, 2019
Nov 27, 2019 at 11:00 AM UTC
Pressing charge,
unplugging the worth you have in my heart,
_Wicked, and deceitful,_—would I seem saying,
"I love you with all my heart"
What haven't I loved long before you,
I've loved another; or rather a better
taste of you. Cloying; to a degree of natural ecstasy.
Scented ravenousness, so sweet by the first brim of
open lips connected.
I've had an affair with her, over the plain;
that seemed to be what we once had.
But still I could never start my day firstly without a
hint of you; yearning yourself down throat.
Enkindled by you both; though as the latter
proved herself, only in the first few times.
My bladder full to breaking point of a glutted
water balloon; hanging on a thin string.
_The effect she had on me..._
The effect of when I picked a latte coffee
over my traditional black brew.
Jun 15, 2022
Jun 15, 2022 at 3:28 PM UTC
At the edge of morning--broad sky fine
And soft as peach skin--
The sun, a round, sweet skinless half--
Rilling water washes through gullied gorge,
Cresting fig root and tongue of cobbled stone,
Lazing into lacquered lake or placid pond;
Squat and pooch-bellied on flatly floating leaf,
The idle toad croaks his great guttural,
Glutted belch.
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 8:35 PM UTC
****** a self bone love
where only crystal skulls *****
in morphine harbors of youth.
Penetrate the gentle pink dawn
of dead days hanging -
moon rising red mouth, half-open.
Savor the metallic ******* ragtime
of cold handsome lips.
Razz the fluid glutted
plop of fossil *****
Slip the light, hot licks, squid squirm
tight snarl back to spread-eagle rising.
Gnaw at the fresh goose-pimpled flesh
in tribes of sweat crossing.
See the green railwayed eyes,
half-smile sprouting.
Urge spasms to go slack, end-to-end
like hair bellies over, shudders run-
down one foot flutters, fluid waves drop.
Flash on the swamp cypress relief
as the **** sputters out
and faded pink curtains heave.
Allow the bring down roll.
The two planes, silent park
like some ***** bed repose.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 12:45 PM UTC
Waiting a charade for a lifetime,
that does not cease to breathe or reap,
that merely glutted.
Gloating away in chagrins
of Purple apples and Silver grapes.
Enwrapped, uncertain, and detached
there's no more thread to be broken any more
on the sweaty rope that my life hangs onto.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 7:23 PM UTC
Hercules,
My hero, my idol
How I adored you.
You set my heart to fluttering
My words dripped with sweetness
So pure it made eyes water.
How I swooned and brought you
Offerings of the words from my heart
Lit votive candles to see you smile
And came to you ****** with a panther’s pelt
To cloak you in.
You glutted yourself on praise,
But still it wasn’t enough.
How gently you took your sacrifice from me
The words stop and please don’t wouldn’t leave my throat.
Clever or cruel you left no bruises for me to cry over
No wetness to prove your body touched mine
Not even a kiss to pretend that I wanted this, that I asked for it.
You left no evidence you ever existed.
Now I creep into the temple that was built to your charm
Smash every offering to pieces
Tear apart all the works of beauty dedicated to you.
Realize with eyes cleansed the rot that surrounds me.
The floor slick with blood
Of those faithful before me who found out the price of you.
The gentle votive candles that once only gave gentle warmth
now incinerate the wood of your temple
Devouring and devastating all in their path.
Four months later the inferno has become a bonfire
And one day it will be only dead embers.
The day I find the strength to turn my eyes from the blaze.
When I do not feel marked by the ashes of our friendship,
The day I forget how much I still want your blood on my hands.
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
Feeling unparalleled
Uncomfortably disconnected
Baffled in one's own still reality
Sitting in a chill hollow theater
A sharp lit lantern glistens from above
Frying the lid of the huddled mind
Sore eyes glazed over
Watching a hushed movie called life
The characters known and their euphoria
The whole story just seems absolute
Only to one's imagination glasses
Seeing the whole kindled screen
The still beating heart can tell something is missing
Cheerless eyes start to wipe off the fake
Each drive of coral to the heart
Opens truth's glutted box
The one watching is the missing
The story was never whole
For the characters were embedded in life's credits
And the one watching was forgotten
Jun 12, 2012
Jun 12, 2012 at 9:43 AM UTC
We met in the winter of our lives
Drawn together by the warmth
And promise of kinship
That helped us brave the season
To usher in the spring
When poisonous fruits sprouted
Hiding behind showy blossoms
Their once sweet fragrance now cloying
As they fought for a last hurrah
In the unforgiving heat of summer
And now autumn is upon us
Who have glutted ourselves on a Judas feast
Filled us full up with the mettle necessary
To take on winter once again.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 7:40 AM UTC
Alien, welcome art thou not
Depart anon, hence.
Move along now, clear thrown
Thy like's not recognised!
**** saps, with heavy mortal curtain
And suffer their dismal, moral drapery
If only universal context was embraced
So much would harvested rewards be to fit.
But this roundabout lack of courtesy
Somersault delusions fall too cruel
Heavy price exacted; red and spitting moon
So telling on bedraggled souls.
Thy disheveled mind has trod so wrong
Thy mien shod in disrepair; sadly unsaddled
Gorged thus, on fawning ego-laden charges
Thy glutted, overgrown web may implode.
High-handed claims to own such elements
Whose power canst be wield by none!
These petty trips inside the mind
Merely trifling paper boxes rattling on....
Whip away the welcome mat
And shut the door abrupt
Close the windows of the keen spirit
Deaf and blind to soft rain upon the earth....
Cradlesong swopped for craichy flags
Go then, hoist high thy boastful banner
Whilst, all the while, the world will watch
See thee teeter, totter in disgrace.
Yes, the alien has felt the hand of slights
Do spectres then, have not emotions, too?
See the fruits of thy blighted labour:
And this soul now softly tiptoes out....
Star Toucher, 20 February 2013
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
I am a monster.
I could be nothing less.
I murdered for three nights.
I glutted on the blood of my victims. Their throats torn away in my need. Bodies left strewn in the gutters, alleyways and back rooms of the brothels.
Young or old. As long as their souls were black and evil....I fed.
I cared not for their pleas. As I did not enthrall them. Their screams and fear sweetened the wine.
I am covered in their gore. Head to toe, I reek of the rotted stench.
I have no idea the count. Only the recollection of freedom! I reveled in my glory and monstrosity. I was overcome with the very nature of my being. I was intoxicated by the moon and the mortal beasts needs.
Yet, I sit here, quill in hand. Waiting impatiently for the next full moon.
~Lord Kellington
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 3:10 PM UTC
The path was long and arduous
And night began to veer
O’er trees, and lanes and rusted gates
Its' shadows breeding fear
Unbridled Wind wisped ‘round
Tombstone crosses where
Hissing its’ frustration
Loudly in despair
It sought to nourish fears
The shadows did create
Searching everywhere to find
It’s soul-less night-time mate.
Moonbeam light kissed the Night
Claiming shadows as their child
Together then in lock-step
They bent on running wild
And there, where he awaited
Their cold inspiring touch
With doctrines of all Evils
Firmly in his clutch
The blackness in his heart,
Thumping ‘neath his frock
Soon it’s rancid maladies
The Wind would there unlock
Thoughts of what’s to come
Then twisted lips to smile
Revealing stained and yellowed teeth
Trapping breath so rank and vile
‘twas then The Prince of Avarice
Rose and stood *****
The world would soon be his
To ravage and infect
His eyes of snake, both bespake
Behind their reptile lids
The embrace of the doctrine
For no Evils it forbids
The Wind increased its’ howling
Icy fingers pushing fro
Arranging fallen hopes
Into a dead rouleau
And you and I so un-suspect
Of pending alchemy
Believing we were safe inside
Cocoons of normalcy.
Our naiveté so firmly grasped
Caused us to belie
The chaos we knew not …
‘twas there, and drawing nigh
As Wind fingers touched him
He yelled out his decree:
“ The Prince of Avarice shall reign
And destroy Democracy!”
His school of ghouls, dunce and fools
Clamored to his side
Greed having won the day
Was about to take It’s ride!
Greed, first blessed the banks
And Wall Street did rejoice
The Prince of Avarice then silenced
All protestor ‘s voice
With lies and propaganda
All fabricated well
Then all the bankers rang
The borrowers death knell
Morgan Stanley, AGI,
Then ‘twas Goldman-Sachs
Raking in what Greed gave out:
Billions in green-backs.
Glutted bankers,
Through laughter Greed had honed
Uncaringly showed the world
A prediction - their prodrome
Of broken dreams, foreclosure schemes
Insuring that which failed
But jobs the cost, as homes were lost
And not a banker jailed.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
Humility comes with self-loathing
You don't want to walk in my shoes
Let's beat the messenger
Until he or she is black and blue
Equal rights means equal fights
Said the Quarter to the Spoon
Set the heat to highest degree
And I'm sure you'll be here soon
Whistling like the wind through canyons
These men on bars ought do
Fine women, fine dining
Are not in-line for you
Staring at a plate
Far too full for my hunger
Go away, you glutted fool
I desire you, no longer
A lover's kiss,
A gentle touch
Things I do not feel
Unknowing
Confused thoughts
Are things that are too real.
Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 5:31 PM UTC
o t d w to FRIDAY harbor w s
h e i a o
i a I n t s r
s y t t
of
gorgeous
a peeling ember of light
pomped and glutted
serenely basking
a fleshless
glove of light
all over the bay
and twiddling
my skin
between the little shops
i was
and i was
Apr 9, 2011
Apr 9, 2011 at 12:30 PM UTC
Softly sprinkled dew falls from the sky
Strangely not dark; as true her lies.
So quiet and quaint; can't comprehend.
Like a puzzle; twisted like the river bends.
Beside it lays a monster; glutted in pain,
Scrambling in silence under the rain.
Not looking to notice the peculiar conditions,
Runs under cover without recognition.
As that morning dew continues to fall,
Water begins to leak from the top of his wall.
He hurries to try and stop it from bursting,
But burst it does, leaving him on the floor cursing.
Cursing the gods and cursing his life.
Getting beat up in his own little strife.
The monster is going mad; tearing down his house,
When suddenly, he is surprised by a little mouse.
"I've been with you through thick and thin,
Why must you destroy yourself from within?
We've been torn apart and now you're alone,
Or so you thought; look how much we've grown.
We've been through so much together.
So much it's like we've been here forever.
I've shown you my love, but you never respond.
And one time, I had thought you'd moved on.
But when you came back into this house,
And you saw more more than just a mouse,
I wanted to give you my everything,
Just know that it's not just anything."
There was silence for moments as the house went down.
Nothing was heard, nothing but a sound;
A slight snicker; followed by a smile on the monster's face.
Then a tear ran down and twisted with such innocent grace.
Then softly sprinkled dew fell from the sky.
No, it wasn't dark; it came from his eye.
Whistling down, like a bomb to hit the ground.
And when that tear hit the ground, there was not a sound.
When the monster looked up, the mouse was gone.
She wasn't there, but now stood something so wrong.
Not a mouse, but a woman; Smiling softly.
How could this be? Just moments ago she was just nothing.
So she took his hand, and held it tight.
He looked up at her, here eyes so bright.
"You're not a monster in my eyes."
The monster couldn't help but cry.
For just that moment, he felt so alive.
The pain had been lifted, now he could strive.
The monster was gone, and nothing was wrong.
Only leaves one to wonder, for only how long?
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
The words are gone, the parties cracked glowsticks spilling their blood on the sidewalk.
The minutes that felt all mine, personal, a glove around space-time that I dictated -
now they’re standardized to measure the effects of real disparities in theoretical constructs.
But my fingers twitch, my teeth find skin, the coffee keeps coming but the world doesn’t slow.
And someday I’ll LOSE IT and bike naked through my new streets and claim it all back, the dark spangled world I used to inhabit, that evaporated in the false lights of the city.
Give me back the yellowed bricks and the pensive dizzy walks home. Running through the forest with the vultures up ahead and the cracked pavement underfoot, woods rising like spectres, autumn crackling on all sides, loneliness lifting up my steps and fog curling around my neck. The songs all say the cities are exciting but the outskirts are alive, the outer places plead, they love you with a desperation those glutted urbanities won’t understand.
They’ll call us home someday. That dark earth, the gnarled tree. Empty fields and brick-husk-buildings will welcome us with fireflies and curving mist and the quiet dramatics lost to the souls beating their spreadsheet hearts, with space budgeted x for family and y for ******* and the bullet-to-the-heart z (complacence). They’ll call us home, remind us the world is made of ghosts, the bones of trees, the bodies of clay, and the dust of flowers. That bluebird chirping is the only true sound you’ll ever hear. The pine needles and the wind are saying something important, and I live in a world of windowpanes! The fog is lifting, the sun is rising, and all the ghosts are going home. The waterfalls keep falling, but they fade from memory. The rocks jut towards the heavens, just as always, but my appreciation fades. Now I’m left -
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 12:13 AM UTC
SCENE 1: Park’s Parlor
It was a sunny Saturday morn
A busy week of lectures, classes, briskly worn
Liam, in a grey city short and blue polo shirt
Disregardantly laid on a campus park bench
Enjoying the warm summer breeze
As it plunged his advertence into a mild slumber.
He was then awakened by the sound of footsteps approaching
He glanced
And there she was, walking down the descending footpath
Taunting every living creature she passed by
With her stout, curvy frame sculptured with intricate exuberance;
He knew her; She knew him not
SCENE 2: Classroom Debacle
It was a dull Tuesday after-morning
Liam was running late for a lecturer
As he entered the classroom, there she was
Setting in the fifth row North
Wearing a silken Darthmouth-green cloth.
He gazed about, looking for an empty chair
And only one remaineth, next to her
He hesitantly approached the seat
Trying to dodge the stern cold stare from the lecturer
Moments passed, his body laying cold-death with fright
He then was startled by a gentle voice saying
‘Hi, I am Amy’ ” ” ‘You can have my today’s notes’ ” ” ‘ ‘:
She knew him; She knew his intentions not
SCENE 3: Hostel Civility
It was a noisy Friday evening.
Liam was resting in his wooden bed
And the echoing jubilance of the half-drunken students
Glutted the air like a summers-end park amusements.
Certainly, his drifting mind was brought to a halt by a little knock on the door
“Come on in”, He answered
Amy entered while wearing a hunters-moon grin
‘I have come for my notes’ she said
Liam feignly offered her a cup of coffee, pretending like he didn’t hear her
“The night is young, let’s go out and grab a bite”, he continued
She gallantly stood up: He expeditiously grabbed his coat,
And they shut the door behind them and disappeared into the radiant dusk
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
I am consumed
Fed, bulging
Bulbous
Splitting at the seams
Engorged with You
Satiated by your tongue
Glutted, packed
I am full
Apr 8, 2025
Apr 8, 2025 at 11:55 AM UTC
It's true that in my brevity of life, I was censured for trouble. Constantly considered the desponding mind of a normal boy, and why or how did I become what I am. My answer to them has always been the same, since I was just a child, your deplorable young blood has been ripped up. Thrown to the side for the gibbet by all the wrong scrupulous attitudes, and I'm running out of deference to give. The prodigious lies brought me here, and I'm glutted throughout the mind, soon to be forever blind.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
Necro night, obsessive polish...
smooth as a piano's torso.
A man profanes the vested
interests of his body with starry
eyeshot.
Stuffing the pig of non being
with a star's nonlinear light.
The rapid fire vexations of a
king invade him, unspecified
bidding must be carried out.
He sees the world scurry,
sevitude's hand and foot--the
glutted pig of his non being
belches tremulously.
The horror of full emptiness
drives him from star to star, his
subjects multiply to appease
the royal malcontent.
He tears into curses cast at God,
the king blacks out.
The night sits encased in a man's
room, ants of darkness crawl on
him...he lets out a sigh...then begs
sleep.
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
I was buried in a pleasant cemetery,
Beyond the walls of the city,
Near the banks of the Mississippi,
When my body was stolen from the Ground.
I died as I lived, languid and cold,
My corpse interred beneath stone too old,
My heart placid, as hard as gold,
When my body was stolen from the Ground.
At my funeral, you were first to attend,
The last to leave at the bitter end,
My lesioned heart you tried to mend,
When you stole my body from the Ground.
Warmth floods through glutted veins,
As you cleanse my soul of its pains,
I am bound to you, my love my chains,
When you stole my body from the Ground.
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 3:56 PM UTC
i’ve become star-flooded.
my mouth’s overrun with sunk stars,
stars studding my cupid’s bow hollows,
dripping onto my hands and the high pile carpet.
their waxy-hot gloss is scalding and sharp,
white rust still engulfing my tongue in unpolished
supernovas and sparks
sparking metal-doused cinder and oxygen darkness.
i’ve become star-glutted,
my star-clotted lungs are heavy,
stars twine through my breathing like the sweat of a
cigarette-blotted miasma,
eroding the chasms, the veins of my shivering fingertips stretching
tips reaching for stars, for star-bellied galaxies,
fingertips stretching towards cavities, onyx skies flashing,
for stars with their clashing and golden-scorched glow,
for a star-buried secret
i lost long ago.
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 2:13 PM UTC
hands seek the
blue ribbon--
the flutterer
in butterfly
scars.
catch it.
please. This too cannot
go to god.
The heavens
are glutted with
joy.
Mar 28, 2025
Mar 28, 2025 at 3:55 AM UTC
A full stop right there,
to that thought of happiness, which hurts
cause it's too pretty, too dreamy, too delicate
It almost feels like a myth
too many lenses, too many tales
some broken, some taped, some flawless
Well, it's in the vein of the sideral
a beauty too cruel to the blue-green marble
the witches mirror
I have no desire to enhance my beauty on
to bleed in a portal
glutted to blood fae and shadow reavers
Why is it?
that the most terrifying demons
Veil the utmost beautiful faces
like the forgotten slice of time
When I fell for the beautiful beige love,
only to unveil the demon inside
May 5, 2025
May 5, 2025 at 5:30 AM UTC