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A lonely child,
child of neglect

I see you.

Night it befalls,
lonely child met..

You meet me.

Peeled round waist from belly to back,
four pieces do a belt of babe make;
stitched and branded.

Lonely child of neglect,
I bathe in your warm fat.

Clouds they roll, stream cotton-frayed sky.
Mother's light peeks to say goodbye, to you;
-the lonely child whom had to die?

I transform.

AWHOOOooo!

eah, hah-hah, hah-hah, hah-hah...

<>...Hunt...<>
          C
jonni inferno Mar 2017
waited
for your calle todaye
when it did not come
i kurst'
this cold and
krewel daye

oft played
are the games
of love and lyfe
skillfullye laide
are the snares
and traps
we playe the hunter
we are the baite
be it known to alle
we are the prey

and i
knowinge the price
of painfulle lessons learned
forsooke that knowledge
which thru livinge
alle mustte earne
and thought
to safely
lure you in
withe
mine open hearte

yes
i kurse
this bryghte and sunnye daye
shoulde not the skye
be fulle of kloudse an' fey ?

'twoulde match my moode...

.
.
Pic Poem
http://oi65.tinypic.com/dq2i48.jpg
.
.
added link to the pic/poem
zumee Jun 2018
You **** Sapiens; us neanderthals
exist together
in separate contexts:

You
Move mountains of meaning with the swipe of an opposable thumb,
Fill your coffers with shiny, expendable treasure.

we
gather bundles of metaphor to keep warm
hunt ferocious words to survive
scully Aug 2018
I am not testifying my emotion with the poetry, I am
atoning to it.
I write about God like a friend but we
Haven't been speaking.  
I confess my sins to
Whoever will play the part.
When I write about how quiet the moon has been,
I am saying I'm sorry.

My lack of honesty is writers-block.
I crave all of the hurt. I
Torture myself into unhappiness.
I have this habit of starting things I don't
Finish and they're usually letters
Bursting with nameless blame.
I shut down in the middle of
My emotions because they are too loud, I substitute
all of my connections for a painless quiet.
I am cold because it is easier than being warm,
Than getting burned, than being honest. I am cold
because it is easier than saying that
I am selfish in love. I drain, consume
devour everything that touches me and I
Don't know how to stop taking.

When I write about how I am scared that
Love and violence sound the same from an empty bed, I am saying I'm sorry.
I am not presenting my pain with the poetry,
I am conceding to it.
I can't take a pen to paper without punishing myself with the ink.

When I write about a fence with vines encasing the wood,
About neglect, about a garden full of overgrown weeds and
A cold house, I am saying
Forgive me.
i wrote this for my boyfriend and i hope he understands what i am trying to say.
Nigdaw Aug 30
We will come to you in the end
On our hands and knees,
To worship at the altar of nature.
When money has become worthless
Cars are chunks of useless rusting metal,
And all the technology in the world
Hasn't saved our sorry ***.
Val Graz Jun 2018
****** up on cough syrup again,
This wasn't in the plan,
But they all want too much,
And I can't seem to give enough,
So I numb my pain,
In any way,
Just so I don't have to remember,
Except now I remember,
So I'll try to forget,
Numb the pain again,

I hate you and your guts,
I'm sorry about your luck,
But you're a monster now,
And monsters get put down,

****, ****, I can't think,
It feel like I'm gonna sink,
Into the past,
No not that,
Someone help me survive,
And stay alive,
Because I can't go back,
I can never go back,
To the basement,
Because I hate it,

I hate you and your guts,
I'm sorry about your luck,
But you're a monster now,
And monsters get put down.
Lady Ravenhill Sep 2018
The darkness recedes
Gale forces swirl around them
The eye spies it's prey
©LadyRavenhill 2018
Haiku 59
Äŧül Oct 28
I'm a treasure plundered by romance,
I'm a long forgotten dance,
I'm a lost chance.

A young hunter found me,
She is my real destiny,
Now I am happy.
My HP Poem #1785
©Atul Kaushal
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
Hanging on the wall, next to my bed post,
A friend of the forest looks surprised, most.
Oh dear, she did not hear the gunshot near,
Nor tree nor hill nor her fawn shed a tear.

Over there, the finest hair of the hare,
Cute and fluffy hopping into my stew.
It's seat is sweet and hard to beat I swear,
Though his hide is gamey and tough to chew.

A sow, a cow is how I eat for now,
I feast on the beasts with the finest meats.
Fresh flesh on my breath, fresh blood on my brow,
Slaughtered, like their daughters; fair market treats.

I feel nothing for these creatures I hunt.
Would you rather feast on the yeast they shunt?
Peter B Aug 17
I won't be happy,
until I **** the hunter in me.
Hungry hunter, he's hunting
having no mercy on anything.

Nothing matters to him more than the prey,
blinded by instincts,
born to ****.

I won't be happy,
I will not be free,
until I **** him,
before he kills me.
Even though
I don't like you
anymore,
I still want to
please your
eyes.
Time after time
you draw me
back,
and I'm left
feeling absolutely
helpless.
All I want
is to hear you
say,
"I love you,
and I always
will."
Lake - I look up to you
the hunter and the hunted
the drunken victims
that never last
more than a single evening
how can we break our ties to the past
when all of this reactivity
is only based on circumstance
when lucifer broke the eternal name
he gave a piece of light to his twin flame
she danced upon our streets
covered in his shame
her face never to be
completely portrayed again
in its limitless heat and wonder
Robert G Page Jan 2012
by
rgpage

face down she rests her naked form
head turned from her lover's glance.
eye's closed she lies and knowingly waits,
(a) loving touch starts passion's dance.

his huge hand moves across her back
with strokes the touch of butterfly wings.
upon her creamy skin so smooth
its path now set toward splendered things.

his pace a slow deliberate score
her passion's breath he brings,
from touch so soft, igniting sparks
with love her breath now sings.

his steady course she knows so well
with yet every touch as if it's new.
her sparks of passion love's embers light,
love's embers loving hue.

down past her rear with feathered touch
just knowing where to go,
behind her knees his fingers dance
to passion's steady flow.

their hips now in synchronic dance,
love's voluntary ride, she feels his
passion grown so hard,
now pressed against her side.

he cups her breast so gently
as if it were a flower,
its ****** earlier soft and small
now hard with passion's power.

and in her ***** great sparks erupt
her soft and pleasured flesh.
with juices flowing, desire's high
to meet love's natural crush.

now she turns to meet his lips
her passion running high.
with savage hunger she pulls him in
her hunter now the prey.

tables turned their urge well matched
desire holds the pace.
she takes control and guides his love
with feminine stealth and grace.

to places only she could know
where sparks ignite
small streaks of light,
that illuminates her soul.

together they fend love's tempting end
to stay their lover's dance.
to take control and reach their goal
the essence of their romance.
ymmiJ Mar 22
Really guy? Everyday the same old same
You open my gate and I enter head in shame

What'll it be today?  left right then left again
How long should it take, it really is insane

You always hoping " I got him this round"
But I am what I am and set my nose to ground

A look in your eyes you think I aim to please
Let me put on another show
How hard you hid the cheese
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