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"impaled" poems
Thinking of you, wishing you were here reminiscing about your lips the sweet scent of your hair our tongues touching my mouth, breathing in your air our bodies so close; temperatures so hot, we melt the air as our flesh mesh       distance disappears I can feel your heartbeat, the feeling insane, two bodies becoming one as you take me in vein Your body paralyzed by my tremors I whisper your name you pulling me in closer deeply impaled by my frame your pleasure is mine its ours all the same two soulmates together we remain.
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Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
Touch.
Her eyes so bright; Do you ever wonder where the sun goes at night? The rain, dancing on the pavement in no specific arrangement. Luminous flames eat away at sharp skewers, Her eyes silver-grey, clashing with the tables of steel. Barbecue roasting, impaled through the middle The pain paled in comparison to watching you smile. A toast to me, myself and I, a glass of sweet solitude. I watch tall wine glasses clang drunkenly together, alone. A pin drops in the distance; no silence to accompany it. Unnoticed it goes, by the arrogant lords and goddesses. Pick a flower, compliment her hair; devil may care. She's walking away, I tell her 'Ma'am, have a nice day' Left alone to stumble back home, sipping champagne royally; Mockery. Spilling champagne and it swirls down the drain I tilt my head back, laughing carelessly all the way.
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Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC
Stains and champagne.
I. Neptune’s Theater A rock spins through the universal tumbler and its warm blue pools calcify as turquoise Neptune in his cloudy blue bath bath builds a lace castle with his fingertips Sculpts a submerged eden of crimson and emerald where painted parrots chat up cardinals butterfly and angel fry sway with wave pulse and foliated coral fingers beckon from arched windows. Neptune’s children are flat and bright, spined and notched free yet entangled in lace mesh ecosystem beneath an array of bioluminescent stars as a gangly pretender watches and blows bubbles. II. Sapien Siege The hot acidic hand of death grasps the mesh rends and tangles the ecosystem shattered reef’s loosed children scream beneath planet’s stars. Butterflies impaled cyanide-swooning damsels mesh-tangled angels hauled heavenward coral to potash, corpses to coal. The pretender to the throne blinks rubs blurry lenses, kicks plastic fins and moves on to the next show Unseeing and unaware of the luminous filament in his wake. Self-appointed divinity, deus ex machina. ******************************************************************************************* Ann says: All of the animal and human characters in this poem (except Neptune and The Pretender) are named after coral reef fish. Coral reefs, one of the most diverse ecosystems, are expected to be largely extinct within one human generation. Deus ex machina is Latin for “God from the machine.” Copyright 2013 by Ann Marcaida.
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Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
Children of the Reef
Reconstituting globalization to re-imagine democracy. By throwing out scale we the economizers are forced to turn into misers and the satisfisers might rid themselves of their pacifiers. It's all about story and consuming someone else's turns you into an actor, an automaton. Was it prescribed? Were you imbibed? Then you are impaled on an un-truth and living out a script that is not your own. Time to get ruthless and cut those strings that lead us to, plead us to buy, buy, buy (and cry, cry, cry). Of course, we might find a guru to lead us to promises of promised lands but this ain't the way to Yahweh Unlock the path that lies within. I'm talking 'bout multi-spectrum bridges resonating in frequencies that ring true for you: this is the story of Power Geometry re-constituted
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Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Power Geometry
The tavern roof was smokey with a pall of blueish ash. The juke box was a- booming as it played "The Monster Mash". A giant puffed a burning witch whilst smoke rings he exhaled.... While victims of our neighbor, Vlad...on stakes were all impaled. The Faceless Man was grinning... from ear to missing ear. The hanged man turned his twisted neck to sip a mug of beer. The Headless Horseman shouted for an aspirin or three. He popped them down his gullet where his head was meant to be. The zombies waited tables and the werewolf tended bar. Mothra was the carhop and took orders car to car. Godzilla worked the griddle and served burgers ala carte. Dracula complained about the steak caught in his heart. Ghosts and ghouls were dancing with abandon on the stage While cyborgs did "the robot" 'cause they thought it was the rage. The mummy came unraveled as we took him for a "spin" As Frankenstein played tuba to contribute to the din. Igor brought "the monster" and then Freddie brought his claw. Jason brought his butcher knife and his buddy from "The Saw". The guillotine was working and the raven refereed So nevermore would pardons be allowed to intercede. The pendulum was swinging to the beating of my heart. I hoped that I would wake up soon... then did so...with a START! Halloween is coming.  So, I guess I should prepare. Watch out for bars with men from Mars... 'cause BEASTIES party there!
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Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
The Tavern of Terror
I am the catalyst of this cataclysm the catastrophe that impaled the atmosphere of this vagabond heart that is shaped like a sphere and an uncertain future being build out of fear that gets bypassed product of my cynicism.   Secluded in my lab concocting a potion for this illness and when all else fails call me the alchemist nothing more than an angst-ridden antagonist my apologies to the pessimist, my excuses to the optimist I was born to be a ********* with a heart made of silver.   Buried in my bunker trapped in someone else's lore which in turn makes me the catalyst of my own downfall I was baptized a Catholic without ever being asked turn me into a Cyclist and I'll pedal real far turn me into a Scientist and my lab coat will leave my side turn me into a labyrinth and you won't be able to find traces of me, of who I was or who I never came to be.
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Dec 26, 2009
Dec 26, 2009 at 3:00 PM UTC
"The Catalyst"
Me, I feel like ice cream. I melt at your touch, loving your great taste. I drip, you move too close to me. You moved close to me a while ago. You fed my head with strawberries and laid my head beneath the trees. You saved me from the rippling breeze. My body you kept so warm. You were charming. I was calmed, after many storms. The breeze turned into a raging gale, as on a branch my heart impaled. You said you loved me. As we stroked the sapphire dragonfly, passion before our eyes. I melted, a pool of slush. My heart a remnant, in a pool of soggy sticky slush. As a fool, now I drown. I drown in the tears of the poetic clown. (C) Livvi
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Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 6:40 AM UTC
ICECREAM
--- Once upon a time In a land so far away There was a wretched kingdom Were a vampire held sway He was very ancient Handsome as a knave Dressed in black and silken garb Was said to be quite brave But such a cruel creature He devoured the towns The soldiers were all petrified Would not defend the crown So the King of the castle Searched both far and wide For mighty men of valor To defend the countryside Finally up north He found a daring band Of golden headed Vikings To defend his failing land The company of Norsemen Could not be laidback They rallied their army And decided to attack! They put no garlic round their necks No ash stakes did they carry They knew not the vampire ways And so they were not wary But oh! What valiant men! They made quite a sight! Scaling the vampiric castle walls - IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT! The vampire, Vlad the terrible, Made a crimson flood Destroyed every one of them And feasted on their blood! It was before morning The darkest witching hour Vlad finished dispatching them His countenance was dour Then a light came streaking From the pitch black sky - It was a Valkyrie! She made a fearsome cry! "You! Vlad the terrible!" The ghoul looked up, aghast! "You feasted on my Norsemen - But I am here at LAST!!!" The mighty female warrior Shook back her golden mane "You've killed many villagers But won't do it AGAIN!!!" The brilliant armored woman Faced off the evil lord He laughed, "You cannot slay me! No! Not with that sword!" "And for all your armor What do you suppose? Your sweet delicious throat Is slender... and EXPOSED!!! The Valkyrie laughed She threw back her hair She let fly her sword It scissored through the air!!! The dreaded Vlad was impaled But NOT through his chest Through his very garments The great sword came to rest To a TREE the monster stuck Like a fly caught with a pin He could not free himself! And he saw the rising SUN!!! He struggled against his cape He'd have none of THAT! But Vlad could not break the sword So he became a bat! Up he flew to escape his fate But a ray of sun broke through With an arc he burnt to spark IT DESTROYED VLAD AS HE FLEW!!! The Valkyrie, triumphant, Cried out, "it is I!!! For when there is a battle, I decide who lives and dies!!! I decide the outcome! Tis not by happenstance... Won't see you in Valhalla *You never had a chance!!!* So ended the battle The Valkyrie WON. The outcome was decided... ...Before it was begun!!! SoulSurvivor 5/6/2015
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
Vampire VS Valkyrie
--- Once upon a time In a land so far away There was a wretched kingdom Were a vampire held sway He was very ancient Handsome as a knave Dressed in black and silken garb Was said to be quite brave But such a cruel creature He devoured the towns The soldiers were all petrified Would not defend the crown So the King of the castle Searched both far and wide For mighty men of valor To defend the countryside Finally up north He found a daring band Of golden headed Vikings To defend his failing land The company of Norsemen Could not be laidback They rallied their army And decided to attack! They put no garlic round their necks No ash stakes did they carry They knew not the vampire ways And so they were not wary But oh! What valiant men! They made quite a sight! Scaling the vampiric castle walls - IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT! The vampire, Vlad the terrible, Made a crimson flood Destroyed every one of them And feasted on their blood! It was before morning The darkest witching hour Vlad finished dispatching them His countenance was dour Then a light came streaking From the pitch black sky - It was a Valkyrie! She made a fearsome cry! "You! Vlad the terrible!" The ghoul looked up, aghast! "You feasted on my Norsemen - But I am here at LAST!!!" The mighty female warrior Shook back her golden mane "You've killed many villagers But won't do it AGAIN!!!" The brilliant armored woman Faced off the evil lord He laughed, "You cannot slay me! No! Not with that sword!" "And for all your armor What do you suppose? Your sweet delicious throat Is slender... and EXPOSED!!! The Valkyrie laughed She threw back her hair She let fly her sword It scissored through the air!!! The dreaded Vlad was impaled But NOT through his chest Through his very garments The great sword came to rest To a TREE the monster stuck Like a fly caught with a pin He could not free himself! And he saw the rising SUN!!! He struggled against his cape He'd have none of THAT! But Vlad could not break the sword So he became a bat! Up he flew to escape his fate But a ray of sun broke through With an arc he burnt to spark IT DESTROYED VLAD AS HE FLEW!!! The Valkyrie, triumphant, Cried out, "it is I!!! For when there is a battle, I decide who lives and dies!!! I decide the outcome! Tis not by happenstance... Won't see you in Valhalla *You never had a chance!!!* So ended the battle The Valkyrie WON. The outcome was decided... ...Before it was begun!!! SoulSurvivor 5/6/2015
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My first gLove Lost on the bus Absentmindedly Or In the street Parted in the snow My stolen gLove Taken whilst my back Was turned My fleeting gLove Impaled by a stranger In the street On a spike For all to see My forgotten gLove Left lonely For too long My worn out gLove Threadbare From years of absent Emotion My Christmas gLove Ill fitting but warm And worn For a day My lost summer Lost summer Lost summer gLove Didn’t make the suitcase Home My gLove for life Soft yielding And strong These are the gLoves I have loved and lost
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Feb 5, 2011
Feb 5, 2011 at 3:56 AM UTC
Poem about lost gLoves
Ah, paled and faded leaf. of spring agone, Whither goest thou? Art speeding to Another land upon the brooklet's breast? Or art thou sailing to the sea, to lodge Amid a reef, and, kissed by wind and wave, Die of too much love? Thou'lt find a resting place amid the moss, And, ah, who knows! The royal gem May be thine own love's offering. Or wilt thou flutter as a time-yellowed page, And mould among thy sisters, Ere the sun may peep within the pack? Or will the robin nest with thee At Spring's awakening? The romping brook Will never chide thee, but ever coax thee on. And shouldst thou be impaled Upon a thorny branch, what then? Try not a flight; thy sisters call thee! Could crocus spring from frost? And wilt thou let the violet shrink and die? Nay, speed not, for God hath not A mast for thee provided.
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4.2k
Faded Leaf Of Spring
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Infinity's Mirror by Nat Lipstadt Two mirrors, set in opposition observe created notional blending, a reflecting pool of bonding's of unglued, contrary compositions. Mirror to mirror, his imagery, fuses to Sylvia's images, hers, faintly recollected, now living face, face to face, with his past insurrections, alters his future visions. From cold water lake she's drawn, impaled by refracting regrets, retrieved, drawing her words upon him, an awakening slap to drink, beloved, tragic magic, infinitely captive. But this old man's tiddlywinks, land-locked words, blunted instruments, needy for release & salvation, are neither silvered or exacting, just stains on a dulled, tarnished brass spittoon, except for the brunt'd bunting of lines across his roughened terrain'd face, black and white, pen and ink etched illustration of howling agitation. His words worn down, hardened, red faced, purloined speckled pellets, damp to roll on down her rutted, almost ancient, tear streak paths, disbelieved superstitions, sacrificed for one of her living morsels of words. Man, here to her, pledges allegiance, audaciously defiling her poetic sanctity, a visage endless repeated, delivers her shiny poem-poised countenance, even though no forgiveness from time can a mirror afford for either, from her words, confession born, terrible truths beyond, beyond the finite. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mirror by Sylvia Plath I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. What ever you see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful--- The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 4:17 PM UTC
2016 Infinity's Mirror by Nat Lipstadt/Mirror by Sylvia Plath
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Infinity's Mirror by Nat Lipstadt Two mirrors, set in opposition observe created notional blending, a reflecting pool of bonding's of unglued, contrary compositions. Mirror to mirror, his imagery, fuses to Sylvia's images, hers, faintly recollected, now living face, face to face, with his past insurrections, alters his future visions. From cold water lake she's drawn, impaled by refracting regrets, retrieved, drawing her words upon him, an awakening slap to drink, beloved, tragic magic, infinitely captive. But this old man's tiddlywinks, land-locked words, blunted instruments, needy for release & salvation, are neither silvered or exacting, just stains on a dulled, tarnished brass spittoon, except for the brunt'd bunting of lines across his roughened terrain'd face, black and white, pen and ink etched illustration of howling agitation. His words worn down, hardened, red faced, purloined speckled pellets, damp to roll on down her rutted, almost ancient, tear streak paths, disbelieved superstitions, sacrificed for one of her living morsels of words. Man, here to her, pledges allegiance, audaciously defiling her poetic sanctity, a visage endless repeated, delivers her shiny poem-poised countenance, even though no forgiveness from time can a mirror afford for either, from her words, confession born, terrible truths beyond, beyond the finite. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mirror by Sylvia Plath I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. What ever you see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful--- The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
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I'm going tell you what you mean to me I want to swim in your divinity Emotions flow in unity Recreating our reality You would be my only wish Eat you like my favorite dish Raw or cooked just like fish Tasty wisdom of Ganesh Through darkest night be my sight Battles for you I would fight Marching to increase my might In passions flame my love ignites Overcome an army for you my treasure Hell or heaven cannot measure Pain I feel it..gives me pleasure Will worship you at your leisure Soul reflected in your eyes Impaled forever between your thighs As energy we begin to rise You and I super size Simple in our complexity Illuminated for all to see Acquired this ability To tell you What You Mean to Me. .
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 7:42 PM UTC
What You Mean To Me
Midnight encroaches like a Lion. As Darkness swallows the Light. Temperatures soar to new Heights, on a Cold and Wintry Night. She treated Me to Her Velvet Kisses, and traced Her Lipstick on My Chest. Her lofty Passions kept pouring. On My Body, that was full of Zest. I speared Her, with My Desires, as She impaled Me, with Her Lust. She Moaned away My Whispers, at the end of every Golden ****** We woke up at Dawn, next Morning. As the Sun showed up it's Head. The Sun, was a bit jealous of Me. Coz at Night, I had the Moon in Bed.
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Jan 14, 2023
Jan 14, 2023 at 10:36 AM UTC
The Night I had, the Moon in Bed
The waves crash against my body, As the tide pulled me further out. I screamed, salty water filled my lungs, No one… heard me. I am alone. Dying. The laughter of the waves in my ears. The gods looked down upon me, They see me in pain, they do not care. With a final crash, I slipped under. I am drowning. Darkness surrounds me. Sinking deeper and deeper, Vision growing blurry. Knives impaled my stomach, My last breath escaped my lips.
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Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC
Drowning
I cultivated the land Make offerings of grass to god No reward from above My brother gives him a lamb Receives holly reward Abel come to field I have something for you Violence is rampant Media highlights deaths Killers makes history Fingers are pointed Desensitized people This is our culture of violence Rise up against me Talk out of place I will destroy you, your family, your place You are just 1 more impaled I take pleasure from you pain 80000 dead Viad rules you Violence is rampant Media highlights deaths Killers makes history Fingers are pointed Desensitized people This is our culture of violence Take them from their land Whip them make them your own I am your master sitting on a throne Thousands will die to see the light Mr. Lincoln slavery is our right Your blood is needed time to fight Violence is rampant Media highlights deaths Killers makes history Fingers are pointed Desensitized people This is our culture of violence Now go and shoot up the schools **** innocent children Lets look at the problem Violence has been normalized Indifference to death Shots ring out, who cares, one more is dead Violence is rampant Media highlights deaths Killers makes history Fingers are pointed Desensitized people This is our culture of violence Stop all the killings This is our culture of violence Stop all the killings This is our culture of violence Stop all the killings This is our culture of violence ------------------- Written By Victor Timmons
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Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
Culture of violence
Haven't felt it in a while That tearing inside and out The feeling of an impaled heart The breath coming to a halt As your name and message Flashed across the screen
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC
'Friendly' Texting
A Valentine's Card dressed With Steve Buscemi's face, photoshopped onto a child, disturbing and hilarious, tattooed on the inside with once-true truths. Flammable. A severed chunk of 35 mm film, cut in a rhombus, or trapeze or whatever, highly flammable. A piece of cloth I brought with me, And the part of the belt I had to cut off so it would fit my skinny *** Flammable, slightly. A dead and dried up leaf, Impaled on the bulletin board, From a tree I don't even know what, That sometimes crinkles with the wind, If she were alive still, She would comment on the Cold thumbtack spear In her abdomen, and Sniff regrets at the sweet, Artificial Vanilla waves below. I keep my wall of flammable memories Above a lit candle, Every day, I wish the flames Would reach a little higher, but Every day, the wax sinks, low, low, lower still.
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Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
The Dead Leaf and the Thumbtack
Infested, impaled, slaughtered meat, and brimstone candy Slumped on a throne with a pirate's dagger under a skeleton key Drowning children in a gaping gutter of godless servitude Putrid streams dripping puddles under the disemboweled Drink the fornicating disease, backmasking a kaleidoscope clown Forget me not as my ship docks, I will surely help you drown
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Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 4:43 AM UTC
Pillage & Plunder
i'm a sick **** i like to hurt girls some i know love it even more than pearls some like the knife wanting to bleed death turns them on and cry for the deed others the gun a bullet will do right in the *** after one they want two then some  love fire please cook me they beg love to be soup or boiled like an egg some love to be drown cause the bathtub is fun bend them over and **** them till the water is run some beg to be impaled thats what i like til there breathing has failed as i drive up the spike no matter the method be it poison or glass they often lose there bowels and **** out  there *** i always love it real ***** fun there such good sports my **** is there sun and then one day one came to me and said hey honey would you drink poison tea i thought for a while it wasn't my thing but for you my love hmmmm when it goes down will it sting? oh yeah it will hurt you'll cringe and you'll die then my ***** will squirt and i'll bite off your thigh well i love you for sure a small price to pay i would do it for *** or even for a lay she said i love it i like the knife and gun hurting you like that will be lots a fun then she said, a problem i have i need pain too have you ever played the game hurt me and hurt you what a great idea i can hit you in the head and before you fall you can shoot me with lead o my god its ***** i can **** you in bed wont it be **** we will soon be dead well hold on a minute i want to lick your *** kiss you all over before i pass oh that sounds good ill swallow your **** you can cut me open **** me with a stick i'll poke you with holes and make a big mess hurt you real bad and relieve my stress please use a drill I'll bleed like a sieve ow what a thrill i'm sure i won't live let's get in the bathtub all naked and stripped and hurty each other i love that you're ripped we cut and we shot beat each other to death each other we loved til our last ****** breath :)
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
SWITCH : A POEM ..nasty dark erotica ...explicit
i'm a sick **** i like to hurt girls some i know love it even more than pearls some like the knife wanting to bleed death turns them on and cry for the deed others the gun a bullet will do right in the *** after one they want two then some  love fire please cook me they beg love to be soup or boiled like an egg some love to be drown cause the bathtub is fun bend them over and **** them till the water is run some beg to be impaled thats what i like til there breathing has failed as i drive up the spike no matter the method be it poison or glass they often lose there bowels and **** out  there *** i always love it real ***** fun there such good sports my **** is there sun and then one day one came to me and said hey honey would you drink poison tea i thought for a while it wasn't my thing but for you my love hmmmm when it goes down will it sting? oh yeah it will hurt you'll cringe and you'll die then my ***** will squirt and i'll bite off your thigh well i love you for sure a small price to pay i would do it for *** or even for a lay she said i love it i like the knife and gun hurting you like that will be lots a fun then she said, a problem i have i need pain too have you ever played the game hurt me and hurt you what a great idea i can hit you in the head and before you fall you can shoot me with lead o my god its ***** i can **** you in bed wont it be **** we will soon be dead well hold on a minute i want to lick your *** kiss you all over before i pass oh that sounds good ill swallow your **** you can cut me open **** me with a stick i'll poke you with holes and make a big mess hurt you real bad and relieve my stress please use a drill I'll bleed like a sieve ow what a thrill i'm sure i won't live let's get in the bathtub all naked and stripped and hurty each other i love that you're ripped we cut and we shot beat each other to death each other we loved til our last ****** breath :)
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So I'm a "fly" white guy, with "Jet" black tendencies, Try to be a nice guy, But somehow end up the enemy. I'll treat you like a princess, But I'm a fort, You can't get into me. It makes no sense to me. How did this knight in shining armor, Get slain by the dragon? So once upon a time, I was a hero, Now I'm a has-been. Last in the castle for I belong with the Pagans, Slaying distressed damsels, Giving hell to the angels With strangers wrapped in mangers, Destined for greatness. Trapped within this labyrinth of my cranium. But when it comes to blame, My pigmentation begins to change, But this time it's not my shame. 'Cause you play the same game That the dames did before you. You're no different. You're not worth a fortune. Fortunately, you revealed your horns for me. It's torturing how for me it ended horribly, and you moved on to the same dude you ******* before me. Love's supposed to be patient, Love's supposed to be kind, Instead it's a battlefield Filled with landmines. You say it's false, that nice guys finish last? Well clarify why I'm starin', At taillights from my past. They say when you have everything, You give nothing back. So I guess that explains Why your feelings for me lack. You're like "You're a white guy, That tends to be black. Well how in the hell Can I get used to that?" That's ******** You're afraid of commitment. That's why you had to end it, Before it could begin with. You're a cynical, sinister, Hypocritical minister, Angelic sinner sent to incriminate innocence. Evil's equivalent, Yet as sweet as carcinogens. If heartbreak were a game, Girl, you would be winnin' it. If my soul were a food, You would've finished it. I had a confident conscience, but girl you diminished it. Listen kid, I get you're immature and **** But don't go and slander my name When you used to worship it. Love's supposed to be patient, Love's supposed to be kind, Instead it's a battlefield Filled with landmines.
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Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
Repercussions Of The Impaled Soul
So I'm a "fly" white guy, with "Jet" black tendencies, Try to be a nice guy, But somehow end up the enemy. I'll treat you like a princess, But I'm a fort, You can't get into me. It makes no sense to me. How did this knight in shining armor, Get slain by the dragon? So once upon a time, I was a hero, Now I'm a has-been. Last in the castle for I belong with the Pagans, Slaying distressed damsels, Giving hell to the angels With strangers wrapped in mangers, Destined for greatness. Trapped within this labyrinth of my cranium. But when it comes to blame, My pigmentation begins to change, But this time it's not my shame. 'Cause you play the same game That the dames did before you. You're no different. You're not worth a fortune. Fortunately, you revealed your horns for me. It's torturing how for me it ended horribly, and you moved on to the same dude you ******* before me. Love's supposed to be patient, Love's supposed to be kind, Instead it's a battlefield Filled with landmines. You say it's false, that nice guys finish last? Well clarify why I'm starin', At taillights from my past. They say when you have everything, You give nothing back. So I guess that explains Why your feelings for me lack. You're like "You're a white guy, That tends to be black. Well how in the hell Can I get used to that?" That's ******** You're afraid of commitment. That's why you had to end it, Before it could begin with. You're a cynical, sinister, Hypocritical minister, Angelic sinner sent to incriminate innocence. Evil's equivalent, Yet as sweet as carcinogens. If heartbreak were a game, Girl, you would be winnin' it. If my soul were a food, You would've finished it. I had a confident conscience, but girl you diminished it. Listen kid, I get you're immature and **** But don't go and slander my name When you used to worship it. Love's supposed to be patient, Love's supposed to be kind, Instead it's a battlefield Filled with landmines.
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68
A white dress stained in red Mute eyes waiting for death Monsters lurking in the dark Making their way to her head She weeps in joy All her life destroyed Staring into an abyss A smile that's too coy And with tears she writes on stones Every step is so alone Cries of solitude Her every broken bone Her fate , did she deserve A question to ponder till eternity Her memories preserved She can only whisper their banality An act of hate Bestowed upon from the clouds Never to be seen No one to scream on and shout And tell her about What she did to deserve her fate She loved with all her heart Than why did they hate She's loosing sanity Her wounds runs deep now She's falling abruptly Nothing to break her fall now She's falling down In herself , in Tomorrow She cries for help 'save me from marrow ' On a tree , forgotten Speaks the dead sparrow A Cupid lies on the ground His heart impaled by an arrow And she searches for love And now there is nothing but hate in her heart Anger in her eyes Pain behind her smile every moment reminds Her wish to **** that god Who brought the hell down on her And made the icicles fall That impaled her to the ruins In from of the blue moon A witness to it all But mute with fear of the night His only friend Scared of the bright A story he can't end And she walks to sunrise In a hope to seek revenge Her every tear and scar To be avenged Doused in anger Now she's all drenched Becoming a stranger Her thirst will be Quenched She'll feed on 'em gods Every one of 'em who ignored her plight On her way to revenge she'll dine with the devil Tonight
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 1:02 AM UTC
Dine with the devil
A white dress stained in red Mute eyes waiting for death Monsters lurking in the dark Making their way to her head She weeps in joy All her life destroyed Staring into an abyss A smile that's too coy And with tears she writes on stones Every step is so alone Cries of solitude Her every broken bone Her fate , did she deserve A question to ponder till eternity Her memories preserved She can only whisper their banality An act of hate Bestowed upon from the clouds Never to be seen No one to scream on and shout And tell her about What she did to deserve her fate She loved with all her heart Than why did they hate She's loosing sanity Her wounds runs deep now She's falling abruptly Nothing to break her fall now She's falling down In herself , in Tomorrow She cries for help 'save me from marrow ' On a tree , forgotten Speaks the dead sparrow A Cupid lies on the ground His heart impaled by an arrow And she searches for love And now there is nothing but hate in her heart Anger in her eyes Pain behind her smile every moment reminds Her wish to **** that god Who brought the hell down on her And made the icicles fall That impaled her to the ruins In from of the blue moon A witness to it all But mute with fear of the night His only friend Scared of the bright A story he can't end And she walks to sunrise In a hope to seek revenge Her every tear and scar To be avenged Doused in anger Now she's all drenched Becoming a stranger Her thirst will be Quenched She'll feed on 'em gods Every one of 'em who ignored her plight On her way to revenge she'll dine with the devil Tonight
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Me, I feel like ice cream. I melt at your touch, loving your great taste. I drip, you move too close to me. You moved close to me a while ago. You fed my head with strawberries and laid my head beneath the trees. You saved me from the rippling breeze. My body you kept so warm. You were charming. I was calmed, after many storms. The breeze turned into a raging gale, as on a branch my heart impaled. You said you loved me. As we stroked the sapphire dragonfly, passion fore our eyes. I melted, a pool of slush. My heart a remnant, in a pool of soggy sticky slush. As a fool, now I drown. I drown in the tears of the poetic clown. (c) Livvi
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 4:19 AM UTC
Ice Cream
Your hands feel the cold stone of this textured tower wall. You look up and see an arched, hollow window gaping like a moaning train tunnel, darker inside than the moonless night sky. Instead of a door there flutters a rose petal, dry, crispy, impaled on a thorn that succumbs and disintegrates into the cold wind, leaving the skeleton of the thorn bush without its last memory of sunrise. This chilly autumn air pierces the bridge of your nose as you turn your hooded head away and take a muddy step back toward the woods you braved through on this chilly, moonless autumn night. As the impending fog before you thickens the last touch of almost starry night disappears with the resounding click of a tower door in the distance that never existed on this chilly, moonless autumn night. [First draft] Your hands feel the cold stone of this textured tower wall. You look up and see an arched, hollow window gaping like a moaning train tunnel, darker inside than the moonless night sky. This chilly autumn air pierces the bridge of your nose as you turn your hooded head away and take a muddy step back toward the woods you braved through in this chilly, moonless autumn night. As the impending fog before you thickens the last touch of almost starry night disappears behind the rolling black clouds. Even the dry, crispy rose petal impaled on a thorn succumbs and disintegrates into the cold wind, leaving what’s left of the thorn bush without its last memory of sunrise.
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Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 6:45 PM UTC
This Chilly Moonless Autumn Night
your daughter is infected; writhing as she sleeps in too-thin-skin, afraid the already permeable peach might catch, impaled by some night terror inching out under her eardrums and eyelids. any other orifice blackened with rot, and skin crawling with creeping creatures, cutting comfortable dugouts and sleeping quarters in her heels, beginning to pull and tear as one-by-one pests patrolled her leg bones. cauldron of guts, blood, oil, trouble and toil, stirred to churn, to gurgle; Out from up her hip bones the maggots marched, All her demons expurgated, Slithering out and flicking forked tails, Winking kisses with blind eyes
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
Wilting before womanhood; Rotting, really.
So what of love, Hearts burning fire, Impaled on the horns of pain and desire, A villain made true; honest man to a liar In wretched quest for an abstract that’s higher And if, perchance, they should vanquish their need, Will he or she to true love concede Or never quite sure of heart’s fine intention Smother such dreams with stifling convention Then, dastardly torn, twixt right and true Sully their soul with transitory muse In fear of the power that thunders within And a promise once made, to never give in For the Poet’s dilemma in this miraculous life Is that when blessed with love, ‘tis oft coupled with strife.
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Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 5:06 PM UTC
Scylla and Charybdis