"knifepoint" poems
Katie the previous lives lady tries to rescue her nephew
Katie's nephew Jackson Gooden is in town to spend some time with Katie and it couldn't have come at a worst time, you see the kidnapper who kidnapped Graham Thorne, well his reincarnation was in town and he was getting a messed up head with everyone telling him he was mentally deranged, the only one who helped him was Katie, and when Katie took time off to look after her nephew when he's in town, he almost flipped his marbles untill he decided to prove to everyone else that he is Steven Bradley and use Katie as a blackmail target, you see what he plans to do is kidnap Katie's 15 year ok'd nephew Jackson and blackmail Katie,if she refuses to see him, the weight will fall on her nephews head and **** him, yes this is the way for Katie to make sure she makes me happy.
Katie begged for him to let him go, and then say you will be a pig in your next life, what you do here affects your future happiness, let my nephew go and we'll talk about treatment for your illness, and he said that he thought she'd understood him, but really she is just like the other's, and Katie had to keep telling him that he is good and will never stray, and she did that because her patient had a pocket knife at her nephews head, and Katie said, I believe this is the wrong way to handle your illness,,I told you that you kidnapped a kid, and seconds later you have my 15 year old nephew at knifepoint, you are
******* up, and also you are making a mockery of my good business, he just laughed still determined he'll **** him
And make Katie jitter.
Jackson tried to scream, so the knife would be removed from his neck, and Katie said, I will find a way that this man can't ever harm you,,you have to refuse to go anywhere with him, he had a weakness, and that is, if you laugh at him, he'll suddenly be scared of him, and Katie then said that she doesn't believe in laughing in her job, but she decided to make a exception here, because really she wanted time off with Jackson.
The reincarnation of Steven Bradley said that he will hold Jackson and Katie for a huge ransom and Jackson said, you can't get me, I am too smart, you see i am young, you are old
I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, i'm a young dude, your an old fogie, I'm a young dude, your an old fogie, a stinken little old fogie ma--n.
And then he ran and Jackson said 1 win for young against old, and then Jackson and Katie spent time sightseeing for 4 days and Katie, I know she is born to tell people previous lives stories, really enjoyed being away from the office and when she came back,,the first phone call made was a phone call to the cops, issueing a restraining order on that Steven Bradley reincarnation, and then Jacksoc went back to his parents house saying he was kidnapped by a ghost while Katie tried a new approach to tell people previous lives, so she can keep love one's safe for the future of her business, yes that's what she'll do.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 4:50 AM UTC
Hold my heart for ransom
In exchange for your sweet whispers
Kisses and sighs in tandem
Along with moonlit midnight capers
Take my heart as hostage
A willing one it would be
Deep within its bony cage
Working up into a frenzy
Hold my heart at knifepoint
Incised upon I've already bled
Over cracked notions and disjoints
Chasing after hope that hasn't fled
Brand my heart with your seal
Press into and make your mark
Folded within is all I feel
Behind your insignia so stark
Choose my heart for blackmail
Ask of me whatever
Hope to accomplish without fail
Hopes of us do not sever
Play my heart like a toy
Adore me and hold me tight
Handle me with child-like joy
Share with me, squeals of delight
Mould my heart of clay
Wrap your fingers, twirl me round
Make me worthy of another day
To celebrate your sight and sound
Lace my heart and tug at it
Pull me closer so I could be near
Bind me tight so I would fit
Coveted spot beside you, dear
Enslave my heart on all fours
Lead me through your universe
Close behind us, lock all doors
Subject me to love's greatest murmurs
Place my heart next to yours
Let me be enamoured to the brink
In due time, and on laboured course
Perhaps we would finally beat in sync
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
My beautiful walking Angel,
please don't fly away.
It was only you who could lift
me, from the darkest night and
days
of life without her.
My walking Angel.
He talks as though he has one foot
above,
he walks this earth afloat
already. Leaving me fitfully to
wait, in my safely anchored boat.
He's so sure of his inadequacy,
yet I would gladly soak myself in fear,
just so that I could have him near.
Sweet glorious Angel.
Clipped wings yet so ready to fly.
If you were to die, then part
of me would surely go too.
I'm already bound to you.
We both chose immediately to
shield that which makes us,
from others,
yet to each other, we managed not
to yield to the temptation of
our defences.
In spite of the offences of those who've
gone past, leaving a lasting brand
in our skin,
of each terrible individual sin.
Each scar wrought within.
Innocent Angel.
I am completely vulnerable to you.
Usually so overly aware of danger,
I have already, affectively,
sworn my life to you.
This next page is yours.
Dangerous Angel.
Whether you lift me up to fall,
or pull me down to drown,
I shall walk where you tread.
A breadcrumb trail of tears in my wake,
as I am shaken awake from your
dream
Your soul left to rest in the gleam of
my eye.
An unsnuffable candle
to guide you back to me.
Athiest Angel, I was asleep before
you came
and awoke me with your kiss,
jerking my heart from it's
Ivy covered cage,
our instantaneous gauge
of our compatibility
creating a feasibility
of merging.
Gentle Angel.
You took my beating soul
and gouged it with
a caress,
spelt your name
and my destruction,
with your irresistible seduction
of vulnerability,
and tranquility
of purity.
My tender Angel.
Your knifepoint was always fated
for my ribs.
Take me with you if you leave,
allow me to anchor-
no better- hold you,
and embolden you to be
whatever the **** you want to be.
With your battered suitcase of a soul.
How many more kicks can you take
before they pack you in?
The irony in that the sin was never yours.
I abhor those who chose to lord over you.
Please come aboard my raft of
defiance, which is learning the science
of your chemistry.
Darling Angel.
I do not wish you to fall or fly,
instead remain afloat,
allow me to paddle my unshakeable boat
towards you,
with a view of amorous intentions.
My salvation,
who will surely be
my downfall,
my Samson.
I know what you have undone.
Me.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
i’m too heavy, too full
of venom and scorn
i wish i had a birds hollow bones
so i could fly above
the desolate and lovelorn
but instead i dig and
i dig and i dig and i dig
i sink into the core of the earth
and i melt into magma
to burn into ashes and return
back to where i was made
i am a hornet of an angel
with a silver knifepoint stinger
and rice paper wings
they flake and crumble
and cry and rumble
i am an insect of a woman
with grotesque snapping jaws
and two druxy hearts
staring into the window of
ephemeral eternal deflowering
so i die, i die, and i die again
my feathers are weighed
down with oil and rot
so i rip into myself
and chew on my loathing
Jan 4, 2025
Jan 4, 2025 at 8:12 PM UTC
why do we love
open the door to be robbed
raise the portcullis for invasion
leave our frail hearts open to the skewers and the pain
open our arms for an embrace at knifepoint
put our neck in the guillotine
feed each other our torn-up hearts?
for a smile or a kind word
in fair exchange?
the story of love is loosened ties and running mascara
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 6:40 PM UTC
Die from mortal wounds
Or die from starvation
Die the death of debt
Which doctor
Is not a witch doctor?
Surgery on your security
Held at knifepoint,
Savor the scalpel of rich robbers
The nurse
Is a curse
To your purse
Drown in blood
Or drown in bills
The Hypocritical Oath prevails
Dread the eruption of poor patience.
Mar 23, 2020
Mar 23, 2020 at 12:25 PM UTC
Is violence
the intention
and action
to harm other people?
Is the target of violence
joyful and happy?
Ask someone who's been robbed at knifepoint?
Ask a wife who’s being bashed by her husband?
Ask a child who’s being beaten-up by a bully?
Is the doer of violence
joyful and happy?
Ask a person barking toxic speech?
Ask a mother who’s beating her child?
Ask a robber confined in prison for many years?
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 6:05 PM UTC
Pushed over your boiling point, when the water finally hurts the ones you love.
When your fight or flight holds you at knifepoint, trailing you along with a push and a shove.
What is your response to such a statement, surely you still have your morals.
Is your humanity also in need of a reinstatement.
I never thought I'd see the fall of Humanity, as my thoughts step warily on syllables.
Scared to cause a sound, I need to remain not found.
Because any man is far scarier after the fall of humanity.
Mar 29, 2020
Mar 29, 2020 at 12:40 AM UTC
Held at
knifepoint up
wondering which way’s
down.
Because
pushing up
is enough
when you’ve always been
Beaten
Down.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
I am born into wrath,
Clenched fists, teeth bared, guns drawn standoff homemade explosives in the backyard, come and take my land, come and take my body, come and take my spirit, come and take whatever you dare,
If I'm gone tomorrow,
My ghost will walk these streets forever, holding generations hostage at knifepoint screaming something about this president or that one, I will visit curses upon this Earth the likes of which no scripture is prepared for
Theres an overdose in the parking lot, there's a beggar beneath someone's gaze, there's an artist dying on welfare, there's a scientist melting in the light, there's a record player weeping for its progression,
I open my mouth and throw up snakes,
I open my hands and drip blood onto paper,
I open my eyes and close them again,
Try to see this for what it is,
Mythology;
Passed down from king to peasant,
From god to servant,
From heaven to earth,
Wrap this in leaves and ignite it to take the edge off,
Wrap it in steel and sharpen it to take the head off,
Nobody can tell you **** about how you cope,
This is our story, our legend, our spirit, our passion, our wrath,
And they will take it from our cold, dead hands
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 4:24 AM UTC
I'm terribly depressed and nobody seems to notice
All are too busy wrapped up in themselves
My mother says it's my own fault for not listening when she told me to leave
My siblings couldn't be bothered
They either too young to understand
Drowning their sorrows in drink
Or simply never around
My father, well he is another story
He accuses me of poisoning him and holding him at knife point
According to him I'm the reason for all his problems
I've unmanned him and killed my mother, who is surprisingly still alive
Now I ask you how am I an eighteen year old girl responsible for my father's manhood
When I defend myself against him, my family all agree that I was in the wrong and he only a victim
It matters not to them that my fist do less damage than his words have done to my sanity
They worship at his feet no matter what wrong he does them
It's not that they are blind to his faults, they choose to ignore them
They now see me as a substitute culprit to persecute in his place
My only crime being unwilling to let a bully dictate my life
It's true he has never raised a hand to me, but sometimes I wish he would
Cause surely it would hurt less than the words he flings so carelessly
It's true I've hit him and I make no excuses for myself
I've never held him at knifepoint, all I said was I'd **** myself
So it's no wonder I'm terribly depressed
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC