"incubi" poems
Curling tendrils of darkness
Grasp hold/ties knots
Around vulnerable
Fluffy girls
Whispercreep
Up veiny esophagus~
Choke hold on slimy tongues.
Spread to limbs
Phalanges like spears.
Envelop whole spirits
In pacts of starvation~
Death is fun.
Bones are beautiful,
Sharp lines and creases~
Curves don't compare
Such incubi (leeches)
Munch on self esteem
Unzip their skin bags
And leap out
Leaving nothing
But carcasses
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
Boastful cat
Saturn rain
Night is dull
Dull blades still slay
City craves rustic sway
And these white houses
Are the grave
(Thunder brings a night of lust
Christmas lights are empty trust)
Should've been a raindog time
But the clouds had fate for eyes
Someone shot a feverish arrow
And laughed as I went blind
*Pink room
Red womb
Blackened heart
***** spoon*
Opened my eyes -- The mirror fooled and did tricks on me -- Pelicans and temporary ghosts -- Like a pleasant phantom come to visit -- Until it reared its ugly head and showed its face -- It took all my grace -- Swan lake -- Sky high -- Pace and word -- Makes clear as it distorts -- No war and peace -- Foes and cohorts -- Just everything you've adored and everything they'll abhor -- And nothing more -- Should have put thoughts on paper -- Couldn't hold a pen -- Three days of geometric chaos -- And a lifetime of no symmetry -- Should have never reentered the cave -- Shadows on the walls -- Filled with tattooed luck -- Now I'm Cecilia in a bathtub -- Waiting for the inevitable -- With demons on my shoulders -- Incubi atop me -- Genies above me -- Elves behind me -- Dirt below me -- And cult claws on my walls -- Stuck in symbol-land with constant mock cymbals -- TV laugh-track plays every step I take -- Sterile and over-sensitive -- Can't ever get numb -- Screaming babies and French sirens -- Eureka's ball court -- Xibalba's darkhouse -- Doomed to rot -- Would've aced the other tests -- Eating glass -- Metnal mental -- Raggedy Ann -- .Extravagant *** -- Yellow wallpaper on every face -- Painted blue for sacrifice -- Puppet overnight -- Trying to gut truth -- But so far the mystagogues have webbed tongues -- And the angels all have angles --
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 1:44 AM UTC
I hold this in the creases of my palms;
The book of a creature who
eats the glittering horns of a devil.
I’ve witnessed the trees
weep where she will rest.
I’ve watched the stars
cascade from the sky
and rupture into her eyes
the morning she was born;
The same hour morning gave birth
to a sea of her whispering fragrance.
The moon is where she folds
and envelopes the secrets of a prayer .
And we all will wait,
We all will wait
Where she takes her ***** and breath.
Cities ablaze and words ignite.
From underneath wounded heels
the world weaves a shrill tremble.
Fate twists and collides like
an eclipse shackling death.
And her flesh, her flesh is where the
violent pomegranates erupt nectarous words
Of forbidden languages,
Silent soliloquies of poetry
echo from between the arches of the
gothic cathedrals carved into her deathly collarbones.
Her breath melts the blood of man
For she is what holds the sun
And teems forth the spring of truth
From beneath the land of cinderous lies,
Where the starving incubi fornicate
And sit heavy upon the hissing
nightmares of beautiful women.
Men helplessly comply to the
catharsis in her brief passing.
The mouths of women bleed
and spines erode to her paralyzing current.
There are those who wish to tear her poetic guts
and wear them as victory crowns and armored robes
Those who dream of bathing in their triumph of her death
And those who desire to drain the mysteries of her sky
A sky of roses made of stars
A sky of birthing constellations
A sky of dawn goddesses
I wish for this to rotate vagrant and mangle
The ill hearts who wish to rip
heavens body in one syllable.
-Arizona
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
she kneels in a fire place
******* off a midnight entity
of deformed shadows
and hinged erections
rickety tickety tin
sang clutching muffin
in Neolithic fires
caressing
tinker toy femurs *** deep
a dark heaven chants
**** ghosts and gorgons
while sea witches and dwindling waves
like goat steps
edge twilight princess
Zex depraved lord
and lick my lips
crucify her spread wide
coiling vacant maidens
yielding angel hemic tides
in rituals of **********
skinned on scarlet pavement
as she is dragged
on her knees
where moaning thighs perch
on nailed sticks
like white picket fences
and invisible doors burn
she communes with oracles of lust
that incinerate rafts of solitude
windows slam shut
like shuddering robes of thunder
and a headless god
pours her glistening tears
over his arterial bludgeon
resurrection of eros
in the Golgotha
of swarming incubi
she called to hell
i am prey
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 12:28 PM UTC
Onyx in your ears, I thought I heard hell speak climbing out of your vocal chords.
Impish muttering while your caregiver delivers silver accented colloquialisms.
If only they could see you now.
If only you could impart some kinder wisdom
Instead feeling rushed, victimized. Not allowed caffeine anymore, not allowed fresh greens anymore, not allowed to be in the company of other residents as long as you are coughing: letting tiny Incubi voices flutter in your words.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 5:12 PM UTC
no more
i can't do it
you can't understand
how much strain i put on my mind just to make you happy
and in the end
you only make.......
see?
i'm afraid to even say how i feel
on a poem you may never read
because if you do
you may find out
and resent me
that is much like our conversations
filtered again and again
watching my every word
just
to
make
you
happy.
i'll do it a million times a day
and yet it doesn't make me feel any better about myself.
no more
i can't do it
i'm willing to do anything for you
that doesn't mean i should.
if i did what i should;
would i let you do what you want,
much like the incubi of my past?
would i silence myself,
just to hear a bittersweet sentence from your mouth?
would i sacrifice my time, my precious time, which i had promised for life's responsibilities?
no. but i don't do what i should, so it's okay.
or is it?
...
no more
i can't do it
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC
Un nuovo Papa
Una nuova speranza
Addio a Papa Francesco
Chi ha fatto un lavoro meraviglioso come Alto Clero
Come sappiamo, l'età non crede alle dinastie
Veniamo, andiamo e ce ne andiamo come un bacio
Ogni tanto c'è bisogno di sangue nuovo
E naturalmente è naturale; Non è un crimine
Novum papam habemus
Novum spem habemus
Abbiamo una nuova speranza
Abbiamo un nuovo Papa
Un nuovo leader per la Chiesa cattolica
L'indagine è conclusa, le elezioni sono concluse, la controversia è finita
Da diversi decenni ormai nessun uomo o nessuna donna è eterno
Gli ultimi Papi sono stati gentili, umili, sinceri e universali
Spero che questo pontefice sia migliore del precedente
(Non è uno scherzo) Chi siede in Cielo
Per archiviare e firmare i tuoi documenti
Dove innumerevoli angeli cantano sotto le tende divine
Il mondo oggi è precipitato in una situazione disastrosa e maligna:
Menzogne, crimini, corruzione, espulsioni, discriminazione e impunità
Cavolo, è un eufemismo
Tuttavia, il mondo intero anela a:
La pace, la pace e la pace
Vogliamo che tutti gli incubi finiscano:
Ingiustizia, guerre, ipocrisia, razzismo, intolleranza e povertà
Habemus novum spem
Habemus novum papam
Abbiamo una nuova speranza
Abbiamo un nuovo Papa
Che Dio benedica il nuovo Pontefice, la natura e l'umanità!
Copyright © 8 maggio 2025, Hébert Logerie, Tutti i diritti riservati.
Hébert Logerie è autore di diverse raccolte di poesie.
May 10, 2025
May 10, 2025 at 4:58 PM UTC