Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Akira Chinen Jul 2017
Whisper to me of soft sins
and hard moans
I want to know
who you are in the dark
When you are naked and alone
I want to feel the stain
of your wet kisses
up and down my kneck
Push me onto my back
and carve your name
into my chest
Sink your teeth
into the corner
of the inside of my thigh
There is no pain
when I have the pleasure
of being in the reflection
of the carmel desire in your eyes
Pull me under the secret universe
you hide in the mad love
within the pulse
and rhythm of your stars
Drown my breath in the colors
and pallet of the beauty
of your blood red lips of lust
Leave the scent
and taste of your flower
To haunt the eternal hunger
you have seared
into the marrow of my bones
It is only by the warmth
of your breath
that I can enjoy death
and rise and die again
Have you ever come to my country to Russia?
It may be nay or yes, but Russia is a strange country,
It is people are funny and lively, with strong sense for success,
Those from Moscow are tall and confidently walking in a bounce,
Those from hinterland Russia often display inferiority on the face,
But conventional Russian has a keen nose for property and success,
A scientist in Russia is a beacon of interest like a pastor in Africa,
All Russians are somehow intelligent with humour and strong success motive,
Like once the case of a Russian barren woman, in the city of Moscow,
She was a Muzhik by class disposition, but proselytized into Bolshevism,
By the then Bush fire of Vladimir Ilyanov Lenin through his song of workers,
She was thus a dear comrade or comradess? Her Name was Sofia Ludwickfna,
She had been barren, o no! Childless for generations and generations,
Her marriage had been on-off and on-off due to this misfortunate pale,
Of inability to bear a child at most a son to be name after Lenin,
Every Russian man condemned her after a short while of marriage
To public distaste whenever it was discovered that Sofia was barren,
As usual, Russian men hinge their love manners on the native wisdom that;
Bogy Vysoky Tsar Dalyko; meaning God is far a way but the tsar is near,
But one day when Sofia had celebrated her menopausal day of 40th birthday,
She realized that something like a lump is felt in her tummy,
She rushed to the medic at the high street Moscow
For clinical service lest the lump grows in to cancerous tumor,
But to her stark surprise; the medic declared her pregnant,
In fact two months pregnant, and nothing else,
She asked if the pregnancy carried a boy or a girl,
For she feared to sire a boy as it was only a peasant,
That mated her in the fields during the previous full moon,
But the medic declined a comment, as his technology was not fit,
To establish the fetal gender, may be she better tries America or Germany,
But any way, she walked home happy, whistling her best lyrical
Perhaps a sonnet to the revolution and Vladimir Lenin,
The ninth month came, and Sofia delivered peacefully,
In fact a bouncing baby boy, with strong jaws like a Moscow Muzhik,
It was a moment of her joy as the gods of Russia had remembered her,
The baby grew and developed so well, it suckled and swallowed with sound,
It kicked nicely and waved its spatulate hands; a young son of Russia,
And indeed the joy of the baby made Sofia to grow fat and fat,
She named the baby four names; Tsar Alexander Tolstoy Vladimir Lenin,
On one warm after noon, Sofia chose to have a nap under the jacaranda tree,
To feel the breeze as her baby suckled, light slumber over took her nerves,
Then she fell into a deep sleep, the baby was on her teats suckling and waving,
Making soft nice sounds of thaa thaa thaaaaaaaa!
Sofia began dreaming; she saw a very huge African man,
Utterly naked with bush hair on his deeply black ***** skin,
He was not circumcised; he came unto her making stupid sound,
Like wild Russian swine chasing a rhino, he came straight to her,
She began fighting and kicking the ***** away,
She kicked mightily in the style of Russian woman,
But the ***** was strong; he began biting off her *******,
One by on, he was biting and making gnomish ***** abracadabra,
She jumped at the *****’s kneck, she began strangulating him,
She pressed tight and tight, the ***** began making stupid sounds
Like a chimpanzee, again and again as she pressed hard into his Adams’ apple
Finally Sofia managed to **** the *****, and then she woke up from her sleep,
Only to realize it was not a ***** that she had killed, but her baby, it was dead!
She was a arrested by the KOSMOSOL and taken to the judge, accused for infanticide,
She recounted the ***** story on her defense, the judge and all Russians were agog,
They uniformly blamed the misfortune of Sofia on the increasing number of Negros in Moscow,
The judge ruled that all Negroes to be thoroughly beaten and chased out of Moscow,
To be confined in a more remote bushy area in the hinterland beyond the prison of Siberia.
SWB Sep 2011
me and cuz are gettin stove-piped
by three ripe, early-eyed airborne minds
me and cuz are flappin just right.

sharp turn on that slippy turnpike.
I spy twisted steel, cuz musta lied-
bottle kneck, open backpack, plastic bag.

guess cuz was 'fraid of a gun fight,
wid a seatbelt stained red on both sides.
me and cuz got us stove-piped.
Akira Chinen Jan 2017
She was an old jazz song played on a broken piano string tied to the moon and the scars of his heart
He was the twisted and warped kneck of the ghost of a violin haunting the halls of her soul
Their love was lost long ago in a forest forgotten by time and swallowed by eternity
They both wandered the world never knowing the others name but finding each other every night at the brief moment between sleep and dreams
and they would both hear each others music as it was sewn note for note into the fabric of true love
and they would wake miles and mountains apart and years away and yet still feel the nights song flowing within the pulse of their blood
DC raw love Jan 2015
Is this girl crazy

Why does she put on lipstick
and her wedding gown.

Just to go to town.

She cuts her wedding gown
just below her hip's.

Is she crazy or does she know
what hot is.

She wear's leopard skin boots
Fish net stockings
With blackened eye's

She's fire's delight
She wear's a push up bra

With rings on every fingers
Wearing a long rosary around her kneck

Her wedding dress is split in the middle
With a small gold chain wrapped around her waist.
Attached to her belly button ring

She has a stud in her tongue a stud in her eye.
A tattoo of a tear drop, tatted by her eye

She turns every eye in the street
Who's crazy for who now
A small ladybug
flew on my
kneck,
I felt her
creeping on my
flesh,
she was a
sign of good
luck.
I wish I'd
just set her
free,
but instead I
left her to
die.
Why do I
hurt things I
love?
Jordan Oct 2013
Crippled and confused I am shriveled and derilect. Won't you be my Patti, won't you be my Smith. Come on little darling lets make a split, todays moonrise is just another reason to abandon ship.
At the bottom of the ocean time does slip, with water in my lungs I couldn't spit. Breathing in ounces of dissapointment and choking on death, suffocating amongst the urchins was easy, spending our time watching the sand blow by. Now todays come again and it aint any longer, poison slides down and tides me over, pausing to wonder, was there something I had to do here before I drown? or was I just meant to sit here and listen to the sound. Nevermind and never forget, it seems to be the reason why we sweat, I can feel the hot sun sitting upon my kneck, holding me down as it sets.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v;=gCTvpHkQLKw
tread Nov 2012
I can't even begin to know where to start about life.
The depth of beauty and intricacy is this great big incredible- an infinite, infinite, infinite incredible. Sitting alone at home on my computer, trying to strike inspiration from one place or another, I always end up with a coffee in one hand contemplating how beautiful the wine glass to the left of my kneecap looks in the hue of light beaming in from the rainy grey bright- or I gaze outside and contemplate my warm protection from the cold and wet outside, wondering what would truly be better- this warmth? or the thrill of living and forced recognition of every step given by the airy forecast of the clouds wisping from my breath, breaching me from the shoe of my pants and the kneck of my shirt to caress the bare-skin of my spine and the calfs of my bony ankles?
and it's as if I have to choose, but I laugh when I realize they're both great big incredibles in themselves- the fluff of a book in my hand and a hot drink at my side as the floating water decides to come back to Earth- the melancholy of still-in-my-pajamas-and-this-is-one-of-only-two-days-off; the poetry of love and the poetry of loss and the poetry of all I desire to do but hold back- all of this brings me a comforting sadness. Life, life, life, life, life... thank you for loving me.
Somewhatdamaged Dec 2019
You make me want to kick you in the teeth
It may hurt me back but not my feelings.

The urge to snap your kneck
makes me shiver filled with rage.
I hate that I want you
but I know that I don't need you!

After trying everything,
it so bothers me
that you're still breathing.

The memories of you
Makes me want to puke!

Why the **** did we ever come across?
Wait, hold on to that thought
Knife is talking to me,
reminds me to slit your ******* throat!
Ryan Jakes Apr 2014
He tears about with happy shouts
a truck held in his hand
his shoes kicked off, his hat on wrong
as he runs along the sand
He chases gulls with wild intent
of what I do not know
sea snails hear this cacophony
and retreat to their homes
I chase him through the breaking waves
and catch him with a giggle
this force of nature in my arms
with tendency to wriggle
his little arms around my kneck
on my nose he plants a kiss
I stay this way as waves crash in
in sweet paternal bliss.
A morning well spent.
josh wilbanks Nov 2016
Don't let your dreams get to far - remember you can't get the gold if you don't know just where you are. Id trade a leg and arm just to get the golden touch, of her heart. I lost a peice of me when she left - she made me bleed and now i feel i need a surgery or a drug or some kind of thing to make me feel like i am next to she - the one that got away. Never will i forget your face. You put me in my place and now i'm stuck forgot how to give a **** about myself. They come first. The ones around. It hurts me way deep down when i see a face i love put on a frown. It's more than just a brown it's a burn. I almost like the way it hurts. Conditioned by repition put me in this disposition so i write this written. I put the decision of who i am in another person's hands. I've lost my promised land. Lost my human rights. I've given up the fight for my life. Can't sleep at night. Round and through - pull it tight - get it done right - the tricky bit is when you get up into it and you start question if the noose is worth the conditions - can't stop now - won't start slippin - stick to the plan - you cant comply to lifes demands - if you dangle there's no repremands - step on down and be a failure yet again - no i can't - i won't do it - head whent through it - **** i blew it - the rope i knew it - broke in two, it - snapped at the base - landed on my face - hit the ground - still choking out - grab my kneck n' pull it out - **** what now - lets over dose like an auschewitz kid just got some chow - take enough to **** a cow - woke up in the icu - full of tubes - right here next to you - the dissapointment shows right through - don't deny it don't even try to hide it you know i know when you're lyin.

Now hush baby brother, dont you cry
Everything's gonna be alright
Gotta toughen up my little buba, i told ya
I'll always be with ya in your mind
You'll hear alot of things but hold onto my good side
Dont forget you were my pride
It may feel a little painful, when the rain falls
But i promise the sun will always shine
I've tried to **** myself 3 times. I wrote this for my brother about those moments.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8HvyG_RaH4
Ignoremypoems Mar 2018
Long day.
Hard day.
Bad day.
You think on the way home from school or work that you will feel better when you get home. You drive down the street and start to think. You think about how your life is ****. You think about how you have told yourself your whole life that it will be better soon. You think about how soon is now and its not better. You think about what to do. Your choices are limited to you but you already seem to know your choice. You walk into your house and walk upstairs into your room. You look in your closet. The rope is still there from when you were moving. You grab it. You throw your bag on the floor. You walk to your bed and sit down. You try to tie different knots and realise you fail at that to. You end up googleing how to tie the knot. You struggle for a few minutes but you tie a noose. You tie the other end to the bar on the ceiling of you closet. You go to the bathroom and grab the stool your little sister uses to reach the sink. You put the stool underneath the rope swaying in your closet. You step up onto the stool. The noose sways on front of you. You grab the knotted rope and slip it over your head. You tighten it. Your heart starts beating faster. Your breath gets heavier. Your thoughts start racing. You feel like you cant breathe. You think to yourself its now or never. You make the decision. You jump and kick the stool back. Your neck didnt break immediately so you struggle. You cant breathe. You have so much pressure on your kneck. You cant breathe. Your back hurts. You cant breathe. Your kneck feels bruised. You cant breathe.  You sit there with your arms flailing everywhere. You cant breathe. You decide to quit struggling. You calm yourself. You close your eyes. You let go.
Vampyre Kato Oct 2016
I Can’t Stop Stop Twitching,
My Control Over My Bones Is Missing,
Its What My Arm And My Kneck Do,
Im Forever Served Tourettes Soup,
Stop Moving Dude, Don’t Be Impulsive,
Don’t ******* Speak To Me,
I Cant Controll It,
Involuntary They
Wont Stop Staring,
So Dark And Scary,
I Wanna Relax, And Sit Still
When I Die , That’s When I Will,
My Memory And Organs
Damged From The Doctors Pills,
7 Nerouglosist Followed By 32 Psychologist,
Bi Polar What You Calling This,
Im Anxious Cos Theres no Fix Or Blanket,
And Im Intense Cos Rest Is Vacant,
So I Yea I Got My Issues,
Andrew I Miss you,
Ive Been Abused & Misused, Used Up All Tissues,
I Just Want To Be free,
Seizures Trapping Me,
My Wings Flap Rapidly,
Will It Happen Still After The
Body Im In Is Decomposed.
And Theres No Bones For My Subconscious
To Grab And Have Controll,
I Bleed Often And I Know,
Angels Sing In Opera Tones,
Do I see A Doctor , No
They Took My Freedom And My Home,
Mental State is Everything,
15 years 90 Pills Brings Heavy Change, Umbrella Broke , tHough I Embraced The rain,
That’s Why Im So Forginging And Giving,
Cos My Soul Lives In Hole That IM Forgetting,
COs My Brains Changed From The Brain Chains,
I Cant Recall The Child Hood That Was Taken Away,
Im Been Making Plans Peter Pan Awaits,
Most Food People Distate, I Find Grate,
Jail Doors And Psych Wards,
Group Homes, Homeless, Treatment Centers,
Phone less, Impatient patient patiently
Waiting For The Phone List,
no Friends Know Him,
I Know Thunderstorms And Snow Wind,
I Can Guid The Way,
Make A Sacrifice And Die To Day,
Some Say My Minds Beautiful, Cos My Freedom
Has Been Locked Away,
So Inside Of My Mind Is Where In Travel With SuitCased Full OF Pain
I Listened For 1000 Years
I Have An Awful Lot To Say,
Most People Cant Understand him
Cant Fathom The Phantom
That Grabbed Him At 7 When Chanting,
Im Desperate,
Darkness Where My Bed Is,
Grave Yard Where My Head Sits,
I Breathe To Release The Beast Inside Of Me,
Armageddon,
IF I Die Alone I Wont Sweat,
I Just Want Hold Hands Of People
On Death Beads Transcending To The Next Step,
My Heart Bleeds For Peace
And The Needs Of Other To Be Achieved,
Im At Coast In Black sMoke By The Sea
Ascending Into Better Things,
I’m a light House To Night Owls,
And Memories
As I Turn To Ash,
I don’t Ask You To Remember Me,
Nolan Higgins Mar 2017
forgot how to love
she said 'spank me, man'
i spanked her too hard

I tried to kiss her kneck like James Dean
she didn't feel it.

i made her bed while she was showering,
i made her coffee while she dressed,
i held her hand at the bustop and then walked home.


i found a note in my pocket
a drawing of a flower,
a drawing of lips kissing,
her handwriting


again I'm in high school learning how to love
this time my lover already knows
and so it is easy to remember.


her makeup stained my favorite shirt,
the one my dad bought at a brewery in Berkeley but to be fair, the blue one that says 'Truckee' was my favorite until this morning
Fiction
Akira Chinen Jul 2016
My dreams pauesd for a midnight bite
And I found a dead body
Entangled in my arms
And a strange heart beat
Stuck in my throat
A fast bullet bleed from my soul
And the moon wasn't talking
And the stars weren't singing
And the smoking gun
Would only laugh
But refused to give the name
Of the hand that held
The trigger finger
I flashed my teeth
And bit this nightmare
By its kneck
And ****** out all its blood
And filth and venom
And chocked down the fear
Of knowing the face
Hiding in the dreams
Dancing in the death
And colors of those
Mad cruel eyes
Staring at me
From the bottom
Of the deep dark abyss
Of the frozen dream
And Iifeless body
Haunting the pulse
Of my arms
And I couldn't tell if
The smoke smelled
Of love or suicide
So all I could do
Was open a bottle of tears
And drown in a drop
And load the bullet
And **** the trigger
And ****** myself twice
And change the channel
And flip the switch
And **** it back to sleep
And ignore the moans
Of suicides luxury
And loves misery
It was just a dream
Riding the rails
Of a lost nightmare
On a train that was
Nothing more than
Ghosts and smoke
And whispers
And I slept through
Another forgotten attempt
At love and suicide
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
You may as well,
of course, perusal, per use usual
for us, run on
rule rocking rolled
on by in to the annals,
somewhere, I agreed
with all the rich preachers sell,
breathe,
blow it out,
feel or see, it rippled,
we passed recently
through jello time thread,
that does eventually lead
to you reading this.
That is as true as it ever wished
to be, you know,
I did this,
and it worked.
I was good
at magic tears, my granddaughter taught me,
tears for the weeping other, seen,
there, catch your

breath, the action, laughing is, does what medicines do.
Hap is an elemental idea, a basic hydrogen idea,
comparative happenstance adjust the ocular tension
in the kneck and back, happiness is
breathing, confirm,
means what my CPU dhe
say it is so in words if no other form,
there is no door to hell from here, this
is the point
of Christmas being made…
the promised message is your peace,
make it up, and make it wink, peace
in words
from whither words wisedhe we'ld enjoyed
alliterating as much as some neume harmonies insist
eeee
fa la la 'n' all… rest easy peace where you pray.

A little leaven is accounted, in breathing time,
slow nodding yes I see, so now
breathe, and think, no, it never ends, the task
is to redeem each idle word, we loose,
in these post jello time conditions,

breathe-ing, stepping back breathing, focus
attention what is a minute well spent spilling
a seasonal flow I find, since I was a child, spills

I know the joy of my garden, and I
welcome your presense, as by now, we

look at the cup from the drinker's perspective,
some cups over flow, if these were pages in any
book of life down to the first point
being wisdom prior to light, nada
time and again, OMGOMGOMGOMG

breathe out nasally in and out, stop ask
If this were a novel
a new form now utilized as by a will as old
as any, given his first taste of assisted intuition,
that's it,
qwertyguy, I sit up straight, and burp, ver-ify
virtue flows Thales knew as well as any, wi-ro

How many pages would you love to read,
what would Diogenes say?

Autolycos laughs, a little. But asks as well
his role in some stories is paid hell to know,
usefully.
All who have read me so far have allowed me to recall past Christmas seasons that I have recorded, in forms other than words, and lost,
in reality all the idle words in the world weigh the same, used right,

Earth gravity twist the other way, umph... no,yes, okeh more
Akira Chinen Nov 2016
A hundred kisses down I would go gently gliding from the soft spots of your kneck sliding over heart and lovely porcelain colored velvet breast one by one my lips savoring every spot  they linger upon as they travel down your abdomen and pause and tremble as I pass your navel and hover in helpless sedation of the seduction of the pleasures waiting to bloom just above and between your thighs and then not even air could take my mouth and tounge away from pressing against your silk and sultry skin and every sweet drop of your nectar wine would be savoured before dancing down my throat and on and on would my kisses go until by shake and quivering your body satisfied and then a hundres kisses more would climb slowly back up with the last one from our meeting lips
Akira Chinen Nov 2017
Heaven my sweet girl
my beautiful muse
is not a place in the sky
or in far and distant dreams
it is the place I have seen
in the dark endless pupils
of your eyes
and the place my heart sings of
when beating to the rhythm
of your name
it is the way you touch
below the surface of my skin
and carve a moment of eternity
from the dying moonlight
and burn it into my kneck
with the smile of your kiss
and it is only fools love
and a fool that loves you
and it may only be pretend
or words trapped in a book
never to be read
by jestets or queens
and if it is only here in fairy tales
may I never be real
other than these black ink stains
on this lonely page
Orakhal Oct 2020
once you've thought about it

catch it in the feeling below the kneck
before it reaches into your minds eye
your mood is the magnet to all thought realised
Marshal Gebbie Feb 2019
Chaos in the making is how it trickles down
When the politicians simper to the average *******, clown.
When the leaders hoot and holler and it all amounts to spin
And futility worn foremost is what we’re swimming in.
When a preacher roars “Believe me” and points to Heaven high
And the congregation rolls it eyes and heaves collective sigh.
When you can’t believe the **** you read in banner headline print
Or help discern the wheat from chaff in globals’ glitter glint.
When we glance askance at neighbours in communitys’ tight shroud
And yet doubt our very  brothers’ frank veracity, aloud…..

Then we, dear friend, are knee deep in the doodoos to the kneck
And must seriously question why our values aren’t in check,
Why our trust is shot to tatters and our view, obliquely bent
And the promise for tomorrow lies vanquished, wrought and spent.

M.
Planet Earth
14 February 2019
Kelly Sims Jun 2019
The bibleoclasam(destroying the spirit ceremonosely)you experience is a dichotomy to me.Your atraraxia(freedom from fear) is your falter point. The pother(fuss)you give life is a beautiful mellifluous (having a rich flow).My anger phobia (fear of getting mad or angry)is not a Apple-knocker (ignorant or unsophisticated)I hope.Your smiles lights up the room and my eyes go alight. Every thing comes very pady-sticks(very easy) to me in general. I'm going to be very Gullas (bold and daring).All human action's have one or more of these seven causes, chance, nature, compulsion, habit, reason or desire (Aristotle).At his best man is the Noblest of all animals, separated from law and justice, he is the worst. I count him braver who overcomes his own desire then he who conquers his enemies, for the hardest victory is over YOURSELF. Every adversity, every  failure and every headache carries with it the it the seedof an equivalent or a greater benefit. It has become apparently obvious that are technology has exceeded our humanity..(Einstein) TO be able under all circumstances to practice five things constitutes perfect virtue. These five things are gravity of the soul,,sincerity, intelligence kindness and free everlasting love. If you break your kneck, if you have nothing to eat, if your  house is on fire, then you have a problem. Every thing else is merely an inconvenience. In adversity remember to keep an even mind. Sometimes the arcasia(lack of self control).I feel in dealing with your emotional set. Your  enantiodramia(conversion of something)into the accismus(into the opposite).I can't always use euphonious(pleasing soft words)to quell your misplaced fear or anger, or unexplained science to you. I will not be glaikit(stupid ,foolish, or thoughtless)in my words. I will not try to be fagacious(transient or fleeing)explanation. But will base what I believe is a truth. My eyes twitch open as I breathe in the smoke. My mouth starts to water, and my emotions feel broke. Still I look up to those glue white blue eyes. Of the blind man who's busy sawing off my legs. And all the while he shows me that sweet tooth grin. And he kicks, kicks, kicks. These legs don't wanna quit.

Yeah they kick, kick,kick. I'll be buried in this pit.Well. I'm bleeding fast,half buried in this junk heap.With this leather bound scarecrow man. Were a roughshod  ramshackle pair. I feel you slice my tendon, and the saw blades catching on my bone. And I know so well that ant nobody gonna convince you I'm a okay spirit. You say you were almost all alone my boy. Yes we were almost all alone together. And all i will look at those celertrian blue eyes. Now all I can  hear is my laugh. Again is his spitting scream. Now all I can hear is his laugh and my scream. This I know for sure is the blue eyed beauty. And all I know for sure is that toothy swelling grin.And my nostrils twitched from the smoke and the blood. And the rusty saw blade makes a scrape and a tear. And the warm drops keep falling on my  eyelids and my face. Yeah, those warm drops keep falling on my head. He'll never put away that toothy smiling grin. And I'm screaming.Here me screaming. Hear the old ******* choking and gargling. When his wind pipe crumbles in my fist. See him drooling blood all down those sore-coverd,sandpaper lips. And while he grins a toothy boyish grin. He's grinning at me with that grin of desire. I can't get rid of the celertrian blue eyes, with the Fara Fosit smiles
Colm Jun 2018
When I wake tomorrow, there will be no waiver. No wall or water to crest over me. When my kneck pulls my head from the pillow of bed, I will stare into the eyes of a newborn day, and challenge it with anew consistency.

Nothing...today...will stop me.
Its time.
Patrick140707 Jun 2018
Sunset lit crystal blue sky softens evening
sights, easing heat swirls along deep dug
channels and birdsong drifts,

a stretch of coiled black tarmac
runs beneath not visceral pitch as
dusk approaches granular strip
edges the road,

and a beetle black crawls along, oval
shaped, creased down its back hawling,
legs like a rowing eight seeming to
dip into the strip,

as I look down there is no sense in this
movement, no goal, no refreshment, but
carrying on whatever into the night.

Stretching my kneck upwards a jet ebony
black woman walks along wreathed by mountains,
Sierra Nevada perched on her head a rare
sight in these parts,

far off coal black hills sprout a tatty covering of
green flecked tweed, ribbons of meltwater
rush down to where I stand spring still
flushing,

in the fast approaching twilight seems like
a sleeved arm lyeing on the land a tanned
knuckle of dried rock stretches out - wrinkled,
sunburnt calluses around.

All creatures share this abundance
turned from semi-desert into an oasis
by Iago and his Moores.
Orakhal Jun 2020
Her warm glow sears the cold clay
breaking its wake oer the dream of its children
cracking its whip to the kneck of the hollow skull    
where seed be ground  in the mill of sleep

The veil  thickened by time lifts its skin from the thin of eye
worlds within worlds play out on the stage of the great mind
its infinite reach dredging souls in its wake
its mercy scolding and none to the sleep not awake
In The Asylum
——-—————

The white-brick walls
Stained red
with thick, scarlet-colored
blood
I— covered in my own blood
and caked in thick mud.

Brown mud—dripping
Engulfing,  
Down my black-ripped shorts
Pooling into the metal chains

Is this some sort of game!?
I don’t remember my name
—or ANY names
I stand against the wall
Left hand gripping—
the thin-white mattress cot
With blood and dirt stains
surrounding the corners of the grey “pillow”
Oh gosh…what else have I forgot?

cold steel—on purple, swollen ankles
I try to walk,
But metal tangles.
Leaving my leg strangled.

my wrists- chained.
turning my hands blue,
Each step I take—
I think I'm losing it,
more too.
Thinking this is why I’m here,
I’m crazy —Im one to fear.  

My room—unlocked.
I roam the halls,
Ear shrieking screams,
Bounce—echoing throughout the walls.  
Blood drips down from the wall, and floor.
even leaving a trace—
On my own “room” door.

The demons roam the halls
Fussing around
Making unrecognizable calls
Blood drips slowly from the weapons
Leaving trails on the floor
No one dares to talk about
Or mention
Why the mumble
In their own language
As ****** weapons
Stay at their sides

I have no one here
—at least-
none that I recognize
With the thick skin
And blood
Seeping into the mix
of wood and concrete floors
Not even the best cleaner could ever
Get this fixed

Each board
creaks under each bellowing scream
Each hole in the ground
Like a little craven
or each trembling step in the damp
No way out..
I used to have a map
But now it’s ******, wet,—
and smudged.

The voices in the cages
Are screaming to run
But I don’t budge..
I try to move
But my body—
Refuses.
Like I’m paralyzed
….I’m TERRIFFED

NO windows.
NO way out.
No way out fight back,
The demons are roaming about.

Gunfire—thunder,
All shakes with no mention.
Like an earthquake,
The room.
The tension.

The smell of must, blood, tears, and smoke—
Fill my lungs, eyes and nose.
I gag. as I try to stumble further,
Down the dim hallway.
JUST hoping that it’s less potent.

Each breath
Is war
From my own body
A growling-gurgle for air
That never comes.

Suffocating
With no escape
I’m locked in here
They sealed my fate

I have lost all control
I don’t have
Hope anymore
I thought I had a chance
But all life gives out is “lasts”
I think mine is..next…

I stand—
The middle of the
Dim-light steep hallway
The shrieking growing louder
As minutes pass

The demons
Mocking-laughing-mumbling
Twisting each bloodied weapon
In there black nails
Blood pooling faster
Like the noise from the “others”

SUDDENLY  
silence
The rooms only sound
Is the sharp jagged breathing
my own thoughts
Like “I’m grieving—
my own room,”  
The blood flowing from every crevasse
Every person—
ever hole in the floor,
known to be in this asylum
Plus the light clanking of metal
against bone and flesh.

I look around
Wondering why they stopped
The lights flicker
The chains seem to be piercing DEEPER
into my flesh
They keep calling me
“Keeper”
Cause I am forced
to come back.  

Lesions forming
From rusted metal
Creating gashes
The sizes of small
Rivers
That carve
Like a woodworker
Deep into my veins

If I move— blood starts to boil
under the rusted metal chains
—pain illuminating
Like a new lightbulb
In a cave  

They stare
With red-hollow eyes
Like fire
Not having moved an inch
In what feels like an hour
I blink
I start to cramp  
Tears drip down
My bruised-swollen face
But I don’t move

A slow smile begins
Slipping into each face
One after the other
****** teeth and gums reveal
As more blood
slides down there face

They slowly turn
—Looking at each other
Muttering, something…
I can only imagine.

The shuffle back together
Like soldiers taking orders
With one.
slow…deliberate…nod.
Weapons unveil their full selves
Crimson blood now pouring out of the floor, ceiling, walls,
Them, me– with cuts I NEVER knew existed.
SO. MUCH. BLOOD
it starts to flood the asylum
I run
BAD. MISTAKE.
They sprint after me
Weapons drawn
Blood to ankles now

Tumbling through corners
Like playing hide and seek tag
Jumping over rotting cots
Along with dead-open corpses
I can ONLY recognize
As my family

I sprint around sharp turns
Recognizing only the faces of the bodies
My mom..
My dad..
My brother..
My grandparents..
My uncles..aunts,..cousins..
They KNOW
They want  .ME. next
now—I’m pretty sure it is too late…

I still bolt down corridors
Prettified screaming
Enveloping each
Turn
Blood bleeding up to my knees
It’s like I’m trying to run a marathon
Through thick mud
After a rain storm

Soon— a dead end
I turn around
Gasping
At the building-bursting pressure
Lighting inside my ribs and chest like fireworks

Head pounding so loud
I debate if they can hear my thoughts
A glint of a knife rounds the corner,
All three
Dash to surround me
Knowing there’s NO. WAY. OUT.

I shutter for breath
As weapons are pressed against my kneck
With them shrieking knowing they have me
I slump to the ground
Knife plunging into my kneck
A little farther
now Blood tricking down

I soon realize
My hand is caught underneath me
The cracked and rotten frame
Im bending it  
I slowly inch my hand around the slivering gap
While I keep eye contact
With the hollow men
the boards are stuck together
With my last strength left
I shuffle to a stand
Knowing—that they know I can’t go back..
But I have found a way…
I tear The boards
I— go with it,
Crashing into the ground below
They stare down at me
Mouth—Agape
Then slam down to join me

I crawl to the blooded wall
That now covers
My upper chest
Even though
I’m doused in blood
The weapons pierce into my kneck,
My chest, and my head

I blink
Trying to clear
The blurry—thick
Crimson from my eyes
They speak to me
“Your not loved”
“Your useless”
“Your our toy”
“Your not alive”
“Your not human— so come join us”
“Your too much”
“Your too childish”
“Your to immature”
“Your an idiot”
they blabber
As I pain ignites deeper
Through each wound

They laugh
Then squabble together  
“COME SEE US AGAIN.
—WE WILL BE WAITING.
YOUR CONTROLLED NOW.
all lights known to the universe puncture
Through me as pain erupted like a volcano through my chest,heart, and head.


I WAKE UP
Sooo…I had MANY, WHEN I SAY MANY..I MEAN MANY seizures today..severe pain etc.. I AM NOT doing the grammar right now..it’s 11 PM, i feel like Ive been struck by lightning.. but this needed to be done.. I STILL need to TRY to function.. BUT OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW 😭🤢😵‍💫🤕
(THIS took ALOT of energy, time, and strength out of me over the last month and a half..writing this made me cry..made me have PTSD attacks and panic attacks BEYOND normal..I’d APPRECIATE an feedback BESIDES grammar rn… thanks 😥😑☺️)
shadowsoul May 6
It would feel so amazing
For me to die
and watch the guilt drown you

I'd do anything
I'd **** myself
Just to watch you bleed
Maddison Darcy Feb 2019
Y
its taken me way too long
to sit down and re write the lyrics to my song
why is it everywhere i go
im struggeling to belong
knowing that im loved
but never ever feeling good enough to show the ones i love.. LOVE
instead of helping anything or anyone
i get TRAPPED
wondering if i will ever get out
how when my minds filled with self destructive thoughts
which then fills my entire soul with doubt
it crawls up my spine
creeps into my mind
sinking its teeth into my kneck
hitting me down from behind
gotta get back up
try find my way out
but all i can think about is ending up in the ground
who knows what if its me that comes next
im so sick of feeling like a slave trying to survive and understand something so crazily complex
Lovah Oct 2018
I had grown tired,
my mind exhausted,
so I threw him my body, just so he would have a bone.
I laid there silently just to hear him moan.
I needed something real to come out of his mouth, I needed it pure so I couldn't allow him to think.
So I pulled my wild card,
temptation,  just to be close to him again,
Just to feel his body inviting mines in.
The best , him breathing down my kneck, hair pulled, i felt like his woman, important.
I wanted him so bad, the desire too real that im glad i had.
He pushed his way in,
Slow, the only feeling he gave that i can never unknow.
He was my prize, my pride,
It was like taking back whats mine.
the hide, even better than the find
I used to ramble and I used to ****,
used to blow my tires and get my truck stuck.
Used to ramble on forget what'd I say,
used to ‘pologize, n' ask if I may.
Find myself lost in a foreign place…

Used to light candles and grieve for the dead,
used to genuflect, bend at the kneck.
Used to wear sandals with the necklace,
used to sight my prizes, was used to surprises.
Find myself running through the mud from the cops,
I’d hear their steps, I'd never stop…

Tough ****, you quit--
you made the most out of it,
now they’re a ghost that you miss (ghost that you miss…)
the closest you’ve hit.

Used to get spooky with that Kerouac,
in the mountains or garage with only what I packed.
Everywhere lovers, used to meet their stare,
I used to write them letters stuffed with my hair.
Find myself penniless making mess...

Used to be bad, yeah, I used to do drugs,
Used to lose my mind combing through a rug.
I used to break curses and chase the sunset,
Used to count the smiles on my friends as they slept.
Find myself slipping out of the house,
into the street, filling my mouth...

Tough ****, you quit
you made the most out of it,
now they’re a ghost that you miss (ghost that you miss…)
the closest you’ve hit.

— The End —