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karin naude Jan 2014
leave me
to precious illusions
moments of bliss
love imaged
momentarily eases the thirst
the dreaded melancholy


i am awaken

re-remembering the gnawing thirst
even at busy intervals
never a stranger
how i wish providence to come
and quite me of melancholy
impatient i am
resentful, for unwanted experience
that lacerated deep
weak and regretful
but always interchangeable
never constant
she has alluded me in youth
i wonder
in age
have i
atoned enough
will she finally find me worthy
uncertain of my fate
i drift
Anne Jul 2017
He was my most delicate flower  

My favorite peony

Who seemed resilient of harsh summer showers

He held my aurora

He was my king, my aliferous deity

A dulcet fragrance is mixed with spring’s breeze

His kalon petals would balter  

I whisper “I dream of living near the sea”

He'd grin

Knowing I’ll never turn out as I aspire to be

With more love than the last

Everyday I would greet him  

Nurture him, tell him wild stories of my strange past

I thought too highly of him

I took my sharpest scissors

I lacerated his stem carefully

I killed him and pressed him  

In an effort

To preserve my love of him

For eternity
zebra Nov 2017
rocks don't care
all stubble and stones
a difficult geometry
so if they don't fit
they are hammered
crushed to rubble
jammed together to make virile walls
and if stabbed with swords
care not about
torn bellies and broken necks
soaking them crimson rust
or drowned nautilus
beneath the sea

have futility in common with rocks
except that everything
girds and gnaws
at their belligerent sensitivity

all clouded soft towers
bi-pedal mortal spires
with tender flesh
beaten into place
truncated amputees
to fit the outer life
of status and statues
a scandal to the inner coves of self

I'm envious of rocks
except for moments of
shifting watery kisses
clamorous for love

we remain
disfigured terrains
hunters of souls balmy unguents
fluctious immolating moons
in a hidden grieving

oh countenance of apathy
only to be more like you
a wilderness of stumps
dead rock gods

and our aspiration
our exit
the path of the renunciate
a penitence
feasting only on futility
and the vagaries of spirit
s Nov 2018
here i am again
attempting to love the dead;
mourning a past life
a life before your words lacerated
my throat like a sharp knife
before you claimed
to love the girl behind
these crazy eyes
long before i was confined
to a bed of nails and broken lies

but i feel i have no choice anymore
your love is but a show yet
i'm begging for the encore
there is so much left
for our brains to explore
but our trust has been shattered
and our hearts are at war

so it goes that i must leave you at last
i'll grieve the happy memories
as they have gone and passed

but it’s time i go alone
so i don't destroy you as i crash
**** that
Poetic T Jan 19
She was a daisy dipped in cyanide.

     Her petals when they descended
    like tears corroding
           what ever they fell upon.

Kissing her was like razor wire
          my senses,
and everyone
                        lacerated deep.
Scaring me every time we touched,
But what is a touch  
                          without painful lust.
Olivia McCann Nov 2018
I slurp down
a salty golden liquid
full of lacerated noodles and flakes
which glisten in their own yellowed oil spill.

I tip the bowl to my mouth
and it fills my stomach from the bottom.

She's made it just for me,
just in time for my despair
although she didn't know that
when she made it.

I'm sick!
I tell her.
I was.

Fever, achy joints,
pits of nausea, and silicone pain,
the works.

I'm getting better.
there is just a dull ache left
but I am still sick
in the head.

A head where plays
a tug of war between
anguish with a goofy hat
and comedy with a noose.

My body gets dragged along with
my chemical eruptions
both biological
and habit-forming,
and my body grows tired.

The soup goes down quick;
the main course after leftovers from lunch.
And all of it fizzles in my belly.

A cigarette might help all of it a little.
Except for the despair.
The soup is for my despair.
Empire Sep 17
There's a problem here
Something's wrong
My mind... it's so... broken
My heart needing... longing
Yet this body... this flesh screams of excess
Healthy and full, it would seem
How incongruent
I think... I think I'd like to fix it.
I'd like to see the marks on my limbs
Where you've lacerated my heart
Over and over again
And I have to return for more
I want my body to fail
Like my mind did
Like I want to
I want to go weak
I don't want any strength to be left
I want it to be clear
I require aide!
As long as I'm standing
Strong and smiling
I will never get what I need
I will never be noticed
You'll never notice!

If I weakened myself
Starved... overworked...
Maybe even drugged
My mind and body
Faltering together
As one...
I'd take a step
And I'd stagger
Weak, frail
Body failing
Stumbling forward
Giving out
Breaking down

You'd notice
You'd see
Alex Sep 4
Standing alone in a field of mist and fog I find my only companions the lacerated remains of my body and soul

for the hallowed cries of crows torment me in despair with sadness so deep that the ocean itself could be consumed by it

As the morning fog fades so does my purity for all that's left is the cries of the seagulls by the sea and their reflection my memory
In this century withal
Rivers of blood still flow
Bombs echo
Children are being killed
Heads are being severed
Millions are starving
Diseases are devouring
And you are singing

The gallows are trembling
In the valley of the fallen
In the salty tears
With our putrescent sores
We fall prey to the crows

Our festering entrails
For the starving wolves

A shattered house
Little boy is weeping
Over the body of his Father
That forever now is sleeping

Schools Temples and bridges bleeding
bloodstained wedding guests are screaming

Little white coffins
Maternal howls
Above Uranus
Hear the painful growls
Delirious poets are prattling
And not a word are you uttering

They blinded you
When they ***** your daughter
Strangled ‘er with the wire
They abducted your brothers
Tortured in the cellar
Shattered their fingers
With ferrous clubs
With a saw agape their skulls
Their legs wagons lacerated
Their limbs with machete dissected
Flayed the skin of their backs

Dumpers of corpses
Bulldozers to the grave consigned
Roads run over their bones in cement confined
Bodies filled the bottomless well over the brim
Come closer
Look within
The infinite darkness of the abyss
To hear the silence of the universe

A spark is glistening in an innocent eye
Children are helplessly falling to the dust
Venomous saliva dripping from their mouth
As their rosy intumescent faces bust

In their closing prayer
Reverends to a cross immured
Laughing at the stake they burned

Tender ivory cherubs
Flew away like a flock of birds

Rip my heart out from my chest
As I am unsleeping
May your golden ship catch wind away from shore
To raise your glass of blood once more
As you feast your eyes in silence

Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska

— The End —