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"infests" poems
I'll beckon the flames to rise again, Brush off the dust that infests. Temperature growing with my breathing, I want every spec of darkness within. Show me the being you hide inside, Sadistic and thirsty for pleasure pleading. Destroy the rage inside my soul, Dissect what's left for you to soil. I'll bow my head in understanding, Lick my lips as you **** me. This labyrinth of love inspires me, Hide and seek in fields of flowers... They say the itch will go away, I'm raw from anticipation. Come quickly into my embrace, It's really the safest place. Destroy the rage inside my soul, Burn all that was ever soiled. I'll bow my head in understanding, Scream out loud as you **** me.
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May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 2:43 AM UTC
Third Degree
She bares her soul to no one — a façade for each mood that infests her thoughts like the plague; reticence stalks her every now and then, as she tries shying away from her darkest secrets ripe as cherries hanging from the bough… a charade of whims planted mysteriously on her sealed lips.
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
Masquerade
Her folly lies in her capacity to love dangerously, For she loves in many faces, in many words and in many tongues. She lives inside her love, mutating her heart ever so. Relishing, perilously, in the daze of its endangerment. And for the fragments of her heart she is so terribly loved in return. But only for a moment. For she holds too much insanity in her sorrowful bones. It infests her blue veins and plays with her hair. It kisses her in the darkness of hidden longing, And traces her skin with wistful desire. Her insanity holds her to the wall and caresses her neck. Her insanity gives her a cigarette and watches her blue smoke dance with a smile in the early morning. Her insanity laughs with her in a melancholy haze of youthful poverty. Her insanity holds her in his arms. Her insanity is inescapably wistful. It finds her in the night, In the secret carousels of woeful nostalgia. Her insanity has destroyed her so, and has so wickedly masked it as bliss. She is irrevocably doomed, for she will spend her days submerged in an ocean of faces; Hoping, so beautifully desperately, That she will find a piece of him inside them. - *"Can I stay here a little longer? I'm so happy here."*
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Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
Her Insanity
You sit there and take pictures of me, The winter air chills our breaths You Laugh. I laugh. I feel a small spark of what I called happiness. It's absolutely freezing. Come on, the high today is nine degrease. But for some reason I don't feel so cold as the Ice blues my skin and snow infests my bones. Your infectious laugh carries over to me. "Uh, Beth, I think I broke the camera!" I know you didn't, of course, but I still rush over. I pity the way I can't stupidly giggle. or be anything resembling a teenage girl. the strange thing is you don't seem to mind. You stand too close as I fix the glitch. You smell like Cinnamon, apples and warmth too bad I'm like the anti-teen so I just stand there awkwardly Your brown eyes capture mine and I resume my duty of fixing the camera You run out of film. I frown. We walk back. We don't talk after that. You do this every month or so, I never expect it I want to Hit myself afterwards. Taunt me, tease me, leave me confused You are another cruel reminder of my living little nightmare. Until Next time, My brown eyed "Friend"
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
Brown-Eyed "Friend" Part 1 (Until next time)
1443 A chilly Peace infests the Grass The Sun respectful lies— Not any Trance of industry These shadows scrutinize— Whose Allies go no more astray For service or for Glee— But all mankind deliver here From whatsoever sea—
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A chilly Peace infests the Grass
Congressmen, police and ministers All can be particularly sinister When they take it upon themselves To think of us as shoemakers elves Fairytale beings who then madly Exist only to work for them gladly; Drudges to work for them out of sight, Creatures that give in without a fight. A sense of privilege causes this. As fate is always rather hit and miss It’s not granted by common sense, More like a caprice of something dense; A dark deity that is impressed by wealth Without regard to someone’s right or health. And the scary people the malady infests Seems unaware of the evil it ingests. Limelight and spotlights are the energy That often drives their ***** perfidy. But just as often, these fools don’t care Who knows of their arts, no need to share. They while away at greed and perdition And certainly need anybody’s permission. They only live to gobble and acquire And never need anyone call them ‘sire’. The most frightful of these lustful ones Are those who ply their will with guns. They decide the good from enemies And few seem good to these entities. They only plot their murderous plans Without regard to the rights of man. If you get in their way, you are foe. That is as far as their thinking goes. For that is the point here, after all. These creatures ignore propriety’s call. And the same with society, it is true. Those needs, for them, will not do. They work sorcery behind the scenes And create acts that are truly obscene. It matters not what is wrong or right They are ever-vigilant, day and night.
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
THE EVIL MEN DO
Congressmen, police and ministers All can be particularly sinister When they take it upon themselves To think of us as shoemakers elves Fairytale beings who then madly Exist only to work for them gladly; Drudges to work for them out of sight, Creatures that give in without a fight. A sense of privilege causes this. As fate is always rather hit and miss It’s not granted by common sense, More like a caprice of something dense; A dark deity that is impressed by wealth Without regard to someone’s right or health. And the scary people the malady infests Seems unaware of the evil it ingests. Limelight and spotlights are the energy That often drives their ***** perfidy. But just as often, these fools don’t care Who knows of their arts, no need to share. They while away at greed and perdition And certainly need anybody’s permission. They only live to gobble and acquire And never need anyone call them ‘sire’. The most frightful of these lustful ones Are those who ply their will with guns. They decide the good from enemies And few seem good to these entities. They only plot their murderous plans Without regard to the rights of man. If you get in their way, you are foe. That is as far as their thinking goes. For that is the point here, after all. These creatures ignore propriety’s call. And the same with society, it is true. Those needs, for them, will not do. They work sorcery behind the scenes And create acts that are truly obscene. It matters not what is wrong or right They are ever-vigilant, day and night.
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staying the night up high in rainclouds & I feel safe now when I look down the wide world is so small. we are all tiny specimen divinely dissected subdivided into lively sections by wants by fires by greed by needs & secret desires; one nation under god’s feet tired slaves perspire unnecessarily for possession & obsess over what they each acquire. it is you, it is I, and we are frighteningly alike. my attention’s quite untidy all the time my mind gets redirected it walks like hell & talks like heaven. I am not well I never have been. but this hex is a blessing, it’s too **** precious. we are spilling into the ocean over the edges. The Land is dead and has been, days now. I find it kinda pleasant & I wonder if they’ll ever get around to disinfecting the nest of decaying flesh, before it infests the rest, y’know, the ones that got left. rot is a pox spread by proxy & is not bonded by neither lock nor key; that’s like, **** what you got **** what you be **** what you thought what you think what you see.’ **** you, **** me, **** everyone, **** everything. it’s lovely, it’s lovely. I even think it’s kinda funny, I laugh at nothing. Oh, the irony
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Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
Weather Control
I experience solitude Because I act rude The effect is compounding The effect is dumbfounding I'm stuck in a trend That will never end My rudeness they return So my bridges I burn My life takes a turn For connection I yearn All I feel are the spurs I live a life sheltered To avoid being peltered By the wailing welter My walls block hate Which is great But I also miss love That travels above My feet are growing weary from the emptiness I stand And I can count all of my friends on half of my hand The half with no fingers That's a real stinger Not hearing the ringer I become a feces flinger Instead of a beautiful singer The silence is deafening My mentality it's threatening With pain that's resounding Of the drain I'm rounding And the lingering loneliness When I am my only guest My mind is put to the test By a solitude that infests
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Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
Solitude
When you feel lonely, When everything seem to stop and you feel lost, When family and friends walk out on you, and you feel you are alone in the world, When no one smiles at you. When sickness overtakes the body, When things seems out of reach, and cares infests your life. Don't ever worry,Beloved. There will be times like that. Just find the courage and time to go within the silence of your inner self and listen. Listen,Beloved listen. Listen to the voice of the spirit within. Behold, he is standing there waiting. Take care then and look deeply within. There,behold, there he stands within the luminous light waiting. Take care to find and meet this friend within, for a friend you are and should be to yourself. When you finally meet this great friend within. He will take you into his fold where you will be restored, rejuvenated and healed. Behold be of good cheer, all is not lost, be of cheer and be encouraged. Let your soul take a bath in its splendour and you will be forever happy and all will be well. © 2017, Emeka Mokeme.All rights reserved
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Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 3:16 AM UTC
ALL IS NOT LOST
If I could ask one thing of you; just one final plea. Would you do it? Would you do it for me? Would you laugh? Tell me you'll burst into giggles for no reason and howl with laughter until your ribs feel as if they've been fractured and you sound like a pig from all the snorts escaping your cute little button nose. Would you smile? Tell me you'll wear a grin on your face every single moment of the day and never ever let it become fake. Would you cry? Tell me you won't be afraid to let it all out when you're having a bad day because we all have bad days but most of us keep the bad inside where it infests and becomes a really really bad day. Would you wander? Tell me you'll skip through a field of flowers and have picnics in the grass and capture fireflies and put them in jars so you can sleep with a nightlight and won't be afraid of the dark any longer. Would you dance? Tell me you'll sway to the beat of a good song and you won't care if anyone's watching you or not because you'll look beautiful even if you've never been taught. Would you observe? Tell me you'll notice all the little things like the taste of watermelon on a hot summer day or the way it feels to hold someone's hand for the first time or what's it like to go for a walk at midnight and feel at peace with the world. Would you love? Tell me you'll find the strength to fall for someone again no matter how many times you've been kicked to the ground instead of caught. Would you live? Tell me you'll realize the difference between living and existing and that life is too **** short but if you do it right then it's enough. Would you be different? Tell me you'll be a leader instead of a follower and wear funky boots with sparkles and bright colours and speak in foreign accents because no one can stop you and if they do then tell me you'll say ***** you." Would you do it? Would you do it for me? Would you prove that there's still hope for humanity?
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Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
Fix Yourself First
If I could ask one thing of you; just one final plea. Would you do it? Would you do it for me? Would you laugh? Tell me you'll burst into giggles for no reason and howl with laughter until your ribs feel as if they've been fractured and you sound like a pig from all the snorts escaping your cute little button nose. Would you smile? Tell me you'll wear a grin on your face every single moment of the day and never ever let it become fake. Would you cry? Tell me you won't be afraid to let it all out when you're having a bad day because we all have bad days but most of us keep the bad inside where it infests and becomes a really really bad day. Would you wander? Tell me you'll skip through a field of flowers and have picnics in the grass and capture fireflies and put them in jars so you can sleep with a nightlight and won't be afraid of the dark any longer. Would you dance? Tell me you'll sway to the beat of a good song and you won't care if anyone's watching you or not because you'll look beautiful even if you've never been taught. Would you observe? Tell me you'll notice all the little things like the taste of watermelon on a hot summer day or the way it feels to hold someone's hand for the first time or what's it like to go for a walk at midnight and feel at peace with the world. Would you love? Tell me you'll find the strength to fall for someone again no matter how many times you've been kicked to the ground instead of caught. Would you live? Tell me you'll realize the difference between living and existing and that life is too **** short but if you do it right then it's enough. Would you be different? Tell me you'll be a leader instead of a follower and wear funky boots with sparkles and bright colours and speak in foreign accents because no one can stop you and if they do then tell me you'll say ***** you." Would you do it? Would you do it for me? Would you prove that there's still hope for humanity?
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this thing we choose to call beautiful he takes his time and stirs up still things hidden inside      to exhaust the mind then settles down and infests, but come o beloveds of darkness and decay for day     is near
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Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 12:18 PM UTC
still things
My home has been invaded. Not by the usual suspects. Instead, by the ravenous locusts of judgement. Of the "I told you so's" and not good enough's. A territorial plague that infests the very structure of molecules. Never has a room so full felt so empty. They digest. Devouring the fabric of electron bonds To where the air itself is heavier than water And my lungs choke, Desperate for smoke. The condescending eyes, The pollution of a space I once called mine. A space once pristine has now Festooned itself in patternous greed Where opinion is paragon before law And the laws once laid Leave a cavitated wake As they lay helpless by the wayside Waiting for a passer-by To claim the unclean deed And draw away what sickens me The raw and busted hide Plays brave but cracks to the festering wound Of unbridled, wild pride. So strong are those that sit on perceived thrones That even in another's home Basic courtesies are considered contrived. And the sickness soaks Deep in the bones Of the worn and weary We should all hope to press without due regard
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Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
Invaders
I remember that day by the orange glow you sat next to me head on my shoulder I never felt so content so connected as I had that night with you both infected The ecstasy of that moment we shared blinded us to the truth woven by our teenage feelings I don't remember why I refused to listen or why even now I go back to that moment I don't understand why your smile stills haunts me your laugh infests my dreams your touch locks me in place your presence penetrates my thoughts abstracting adolescent love such petty insignificant things that keep me wide awake in the dark
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Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
Petty Insignificance
A solitary light sparks and it begins to consume until it thins out becoming a blur Squeezing tentatively at the sides the shackles begin their work to mould and straighten The urge to break free infests consciousness and is equalled with the fear of drowning in liberty The time constrains and the shackles become heavy until the light lessens into the comfort of darkness.
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Mar 24, 2010
Mar 24, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
Life in a nutshell
Two people,  a similar heart Close in mind yet far apart Many times I had my doubt But the feelings you planted never got out Subtle longing over time Madness infests this body of mine A word was enough to shake it all How deep this time, will I have to fall? You do not want to be alone Late at night when you come home I ask you where this is leading to? As you respond "I hope it's you"
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Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 8:01 PM UTC
A word was enough
Incessant beeping infests my mind, Words and phrases all intertwined. Cease that noise you alarming freak! It has been ongoing for all but a week. Like a drill to the skull A sound never quite clear I beg, what say you with your chime so queer? Unable to transcribe what you whisper so dear I guess I must give up attempting to hear…
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Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 4:54 PM UTC
Listening
the fear of knowing can be disguised as a mystery unsolved, untouched, as doubt infests our immediate reactions it is i do believe inevitable- wonder consumes the mind, a wonder of its own
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Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
mind games
Mind racing, thoughts pacing, craving all you can't have. Nonstop motion within this skull, your restless soul pushing its bounds. Need eats these ties that bind. All that was natural, now foreign. Your world has flipped, meanings lost. Pain floods the senses promising to crush. Waves of anger, waves of hate flood the shores. Anguish infests every thought, as tears flow silently filling empty promises. Elephants in the room close in squandering hopes, extinguishing dreams, and smothering happiness. Lights dimming this feeling beginning. Fears flourish in the night, sleep evades, nightmares enclose. Silent screams fill the air, as panic quickens this aching heart. Have they seen what lies behind these cold eyes? Mind Racing, Thoughts Pacing.
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Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 7:19 PM UTC
Cravings.
Hes never been less, than clever and fresh. The final test is to out dress, Kanye West, in a versace vest. Not his sunday best, but always on a quest to add zest to his chest, and possess clothes that leave lookers in cardiac arrest. Always unimpressed, making days stressed. People think hes blessed, a sickness infests, needed bed rest, but instead felt possessed Thoughts of civil unrest, led him to his ammunition chest I suggest you know where the tale is going to end, my friend. Days later he violently expressed, which led a big mess. Forced to confess, now hes in the coocoo's  nest. Distressed, now force to digest nasty chicken breast, but thats what happens when you become obsessed.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 3:54 AM UTC
The Worse Case Scenerio
My mind has withered My heart is tethered Thorns replace memories Crows replace canaries As I grew up I began to fear my future and my past Monsters that I cannot see My dark thoughts are vast Like vines they wrap around my mind Confined and entwined My heart has broken There is no key to set me free This Garden of Eden rests and infests My distress For now I will repress There memories Till these vines digest Whatever is left of me
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
my garden
the keepsake of former years shattered slowly seep thru each dense  syllable like glass ground underfoot as memory's get shredded by change i insulate myself from the unbearable and sift thru the ashes she presses her face to the glass staring out with a worn eye pushing her stone she gasps for breath the room she infests has a chipped and bruised floor where her naked feet dance in the dust bunnys leaving traces like tales of her days footfalls of a sneaking doom she cries in her sleep and stutters a used and warm phrase it highlights certain aspects of her wild form as it bends along the lines of conversation like a momentary prisoner of our daily premise she escapes answering revealing things but is trapped by showing her smile breaking into the memory you steal away your moments with her in your arms dancing steal away the hours without fear and hope to find somthing that can endure beyond the dream live out side the vision keep your warm in the cold light of day its in her glass encased old room that she waits pulling wires out of boxes and humming a song that she cant remember the words to but loves nevertheless pressing her face to the glass her worn eye searches for the path leading away from here from her hoping to find her own escaping form fleeing into the sunshine
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Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 1:31 PM UTC
the room she infests (part one)
I use the pen to dig in to the paper To exhume the words For my Darkest writes They are decayed upon the white Black corrodes the pure Pungent Faded Not as they were before, They stink of death upon the paper, As black infests The write is dark, it feels cold The ink drips,                        ,                       ,                     ,                    , On white like,,,,,,,,,,,blood These words only fitting on my darkest writes I exhumed the words for my latest terror The corpses of words, Shrivelled dry upon the paper.
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Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Exhumed Words
Delicate as you were our love was cast away like wilson. I ate the fruit and basked in joy as ploys were set to feel some, kind of arbitrary. The way we rose to crash and fall was quite unnecessary. Your soul infests me barely. It used to make me whole, Used to sooth my mind. Used to to pay no tolls, Used to have you here. Used to have no fear, I used to love you endlessly and now the end is here. Never thought we'd die. My mind was always lost because your presence got me high, My shine was always tossed because id rather be in yours. I loved you like iv never loved anyone before.
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Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
Pixy