"lacerates" poems
within the solitude of the dreadful span
of the blackened and bowed sky
the deep withered grass bends in the moonless dark
quieting the cold and murmuring earth
hushing her into fitful sleep
the air is hard
and the wind lacerates the night
razor incisions left behind
in the icy flesh of obsidian hours
open wounds howl like wolves
on the trail of prey in flight
I hunger for you
under the restless stars
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 11:29 PM UTC
Intense
Pretense
Lacerates
The
Truth
Always
Burdened
And
Threatened
Pretense
Wins
Handsome
And
Charming
Faces
Smeared
With
Deceit
Hearts
Bleed
Quietly
World
Sees
Red
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
In my town
The streets are paved
With gold
Because the rain
Runs an infinitely unfinished race
And the streets
Are run thick with sky
That swills above blocked drains
And the street lamps
Take a bathe in the puddles
And their lights
Unravel and swim
And sometimes
The wind gusts through
And lacerates the
Rivers of hoarded treasure
So that our good fortune
Is molten and fickle
But somehow viscous
And the promises
Of our childhood
Wrinkle like
Aging skin
In my town
The streets are paved with gold
And so are the broken pieces
Of their beer bottles.
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
She lives in a figurative cube of lard
A clear turmoil tunnel channeled like
a river of boiling fat filled with shards
of shining glass shattering her flaccid
memory lacerates each emotion or
turn into adipose gluttony
I wear my heart on her terry cloth robe
the brain she was born with is the
***** on her clothes
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 5:22 AM UTC
**she succumbs to her own beauty
the way one yields to awesome fate
and carries it like an accidental gem
that she has to learn not to worship
to watch her you'd think it hurt for sure
with no conceited smile for good measure
her true asernal before which suitors wilt
is the stoicism of her serene countenance
she lends credence to roadside philosophies
based on the assertion that beauty and grace
are accidents of biology and heritage
and takes no credit for such accomplishments
a woman is beautiful even when the straits are dire
and days are darkest in the most depraved of places
she weeps silent tears when her children are hungry
and they gorge themselves on her loveliness and sleep
tomorrow being another day she struggles anew
and conquers hard reality with feminine creativity
and no matter how hard ill-fortune lacerates her
her delectable contours and carriage still shine through
she has no false pride though she's a pearl of great value
and is forever the stoic beauty driven by the calmness
of the aesthetic tremours of her bewitching gait
in the shadow of a moon rising on the horizon
woman you're nature's rival in beauty and depth**
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 4:25 PM UTC
When the rain is cold and pelting
When the windstorm shreds the trees
Do you find your courage wanting?
Is there weakness in the knees?
Have you faced the dark intruder?
Have you stared that challenge down?
Have you summoned forth the fortitude,
To keep humiliation gowned?
Camouflaged the leaden spinelessness,
That dreaded empty space,
Where once there was a warrior
Who wore courage on his face.
Felt the thrashing of the current
As the waves come pounding in,
Inexorably it lacerates
And tears the fair white skin.
The brutality of bedrock,
The blackness of the night,
And the fear that runs like mercury
Through the torment and the fright.
The uselessness of effort,
The lassitude of limb,
It’s the cramping ague of gutlessness
That is consuming him.
Dissipating storm clouds
The skies begin to clear
And with it go emergencies
And with it goes the fear.
Residually it lingers
As a gnawing hollow blend
Of anxious blue inadequacies,
Of unsubstantiated end
To performance under duress,
Compared to that which is the norm,
It’s just a blinding lack of courage
Whilst in the torment of the storm.
Marshalg
Mangere Bridge
24 November 2008
Jan 22, 2010
Jan 22, 2010 at 10:00 AM UTC
******* Bandit time is lost
A gone forever shroud,
Elusive as an errant fog
That’s slipped into a cloud.
Elusive as a crystal shard
Mixed secretly with sand,
You know the shard’s apparent
When It lacerates your hand.
Time lacerates your senses
Like sand between the toes,
It’s there and then it vanishes
Like vapored mist it flows.
Insidiously sneaky
In the way it sidles up
And gallops past like mercury,
Frustration's heady cup.
Were there ways to vanquish time
To pause it in limbo,
I would celebrate with agelessness
And a glass of fine merlot.
I would savour every nuance
And roll it on my tongue
For the taste of piquant victory
Is a toast to battle won.
Marshalg
@ the Gate
Mangere Bridge
19th January 2009
Feb 20, 2010
Feb 20, 2010 at 1:34 AM UTC
There are no bad people and there
Are no bad things and the
Music's always playing, always ringing, always singing
Cos the music that surrounds you, penetrates you, lacerates you
Is no different from the substance of your being,
All vibrations merely differentiated unities
You are gliding through that energy field
And consciously! How strange indeed
You're a kaleidoscopic porthole into
All that can ever be
You keep moving through time,
Accidentally rhyming, caught up in the games of the intellect
And introspectively, you can't believe what your
Mind tells you you are
Because you are and you aren't
There's not one true way to know it
If a word could capture what you are,
Then it wouldn't be true
Because the thought and spoken word
Is skewed so distant from the root
But the word is just a path to understanding what the source could be
A way to help the others see
What's going on at the edges of the galaxy
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 9:31 PM UTC
beneath the pit of my soul
a flame lacerates my skin
the anger, the frustration, the confusion
of you not being here anymore
when my gut told me for sure, that you were the one
May 1, 2021
May 1, 2021 at 12:36 PM UTC
who holds the leash
of the pigs in the streets?
follow the paper trail:
dead presidents
never fail to be the culprit.
it's not who
but what.
the police always
serve and protect
capital and property.
why else would they block
off a jewel store
during a peaceful rally?
they may not be
our enemy,
but they
certainly
aren't our friends.
they are the strong-arm
of the State,
fodder on a frontline
devised by fascist elite.
the boys in blue
with low IQs
are oligarchs' favorite tools
for bludgeoning
dissent and pummeling
free expression.
useful idiots—
truncheons designed
with punishing dissidents
in mind.
we may well be
the 99%, but they have badges,
guns, and a license to ****
emblazoned on the blue shield
slapped on their chests,
stoking overzealous
racists to respond violently,
a cacophony of bloodshed
seems to be the only language
they know how to speak.
smash the fraternity
that acquiesces to criminality.
white men in pressed suits—
who's speculative spending
lead to economic catastrophe—
get off scott-free
while black men are imprisoned
for possessing an ounce of ****
not even the blind would fail to see
the "just us" system excludes
the majority of humanity.
all lives matter?
only ignorance could present
such a fictitious narrative,
a self-congratulatory hyperbole
disregarding contemporary reality.
private prisons designed for profit,
institutionalized bigotry instigating
a new form of slavery.
when mass incarceration
lacerates our communities
and exacerbates the conditions
of the working class,
the only dignified response
is to stand up, fight back.
we no longer
have a need
for this blatant idiocracy.
if we truly want to call this country
"the land of the free,"
then we must say,
loudly and clearly:
abolish the police.
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
You stick fingers between my
Dried bones, concealing
The dark organs
Contaminated,
Oozing,
Nauseating
Stench radiates from within
But you see beauty where only
Decay breathes forth from
lungs that exhale particles
Of death, but you breath in
All I expel, your talons encroach
Upon this lump still
Beating,
Blackness,
Haemorrhaging
Concealed nectar of death running
through what flesh on bones remain.
Her talons of nail dig in,
I feel if for a moment something
Other than death,
She lacerates it,
"As black secretes forth"
My love erodes
Flesh upon her fingers
As she tastes the nectar
Blistering her throat away
We both felt it for a moment,
"Love was bled"
"Love was tasted"
Even in darkness there is
"Love"
"We paid a heavy price"
As the heart dissolved us away.
But we were in darkness and love freed us for
That moment, now our spirits together
Solidified for eternity,
A blade fashioned for those who cant take
The pain of love,
"To bled it upon the blade"
For it will feed on that emotion
For it was called the
"Eclipsed twilight"
Where light was momentary,
But could still evoke that feeling
"But love is eternal"
Its can never be bled out fully
Love once tasted in light or darkness
Never really fades away.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Remembering that water's in the clouds,
I'm suddenly drenched in their tears.
My head is always in the clouds
sleeping and drowning in all of my drenched fears.
I yearn for my insides to stop embarrassing me eternally
because feelings are so out of season,
and not in the vintage retro cool kind of way.
Everything I compose is a duet
but my shadow, though it can emulate me,
can't embrace me like you can.
My shadow and I can't surrender into each other
like my late partner.
Who am I going to wander with in the frigid rain?
and who am I going to share this hideaway with
that's nested in my frigid brain?
I keep guiding these invisible spectacles in my head
like a ghostly shepherd,
and perform them for my imaginary phantom inamorata
igniting and burning my ethereal phoenix bird.
and so I'll linger here helpless and conquered
longing for someone to hearken my silent
high pitched banshee shriek,
which continues to remain unheard.
Feel like a raindrop in an ocean,
just a teardrop in a dragon's eye.
Just an ant in a sand hill
scurrying from gargantuan shoes and haunting lies
And so I'll hideaway and bide my time
until it's gone and I evaporate
because these great expectations
will forever be far too great.
This is familiar ground I stand on.
This is familiar ground I fall to my knees on.
This is familiar ground I sleep upon.
This is familiar ground I'm buried beneath.
So I'm waiting for someone to say something.
I'm waiting for someone to stop asking me,
"Are you okay, miss?"
as if it makes a difference.
You've fooled me once, you've fooled me twice
you've fooled me thrice
you've fooled me everlastingly.
I'm a dazed and gullible fool.
You're the jester; I just wish the joke was on you.
Forever only a lady
and never anyone's rose to tame.
I long to be the rose just this once, maybe.
Please. Tame me.
So I stuff the holes in my chest with neon lights
and curled up currency and healthy pours
as my viscera seeps out my unhealthy pores
making muddled puddles on these many ***** floors.
and your attention lacerates me like a disembowelment
but my it's my affection that is the Hari-Kari
while your schizophrenic agenda is the knife.
Together we're a daily ritual suicide.
I never knew we were born to die
because I've been forever blind.
Thought you could be my lucky cricket
until my heart ended up dead on the roadside.
So sing my neglected soul to sleep.
May it rest peacefully in pieces
while my severed heart wanders aimlessly.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
Through the warped mind
The beauty of this world looks askew
Riding the tumultuous waves
Every paradise becomes a desert
Armed with notoriety
Lacerates the souls with thorns
Finding nemesis in the actions
In the nadir world
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 10:37 AM UTC
supping from
cups filled
with ill
darkness
the demon
on my
back
lacerates my
fleshy
shell
as he shifts
his horror
Apr 1, 2010
Apr 1, 2010 at 1:51 PM UTC
I’ll be fine, I guess.
So would you.
How soon
depends
on how we broke.
In half? Rough and jagged at the ends
With you clinging angrily to your end and I to mine?
Angry, stubborn tears stinging
in your eyes or mine
That’d be a while
But you’d be fine. I’d be fine.
Or maybe
the courting of Death
Seductive caresses across my wrists and lips or
something sudden and final
In screeching brakes and the smell of rubber tires
denial
and hollow ringing
as I think for the first time in my life
God, I wish I wasn’t wearing black.
It doesn’t matter.
A fight
An illness
A drifting? eventual (we had nothing left in common)
You’d be fine.
You’d remember me in fleeting moments
Flicking past a space documentary on Netflix
or pausing over a box of creamsicles in the frozen aisle
And I would see you
In the golden yellow hair of a passerby
But it would pass every time
One of us might laugh at the thought once we said
you and me
to the bitter end
That a teenager knew what forever and always was
and chalk it up to youthful naiveness
And we would be fine.
But I don’t want to be fine
I want to be laughing so hard my stomach almost lacerates
Because you know exactly what to say
And I want to be pressing
Kisses to your cheek and passing you hot cocoa
Because today we’re staying in and watching Disney
(singing along to every song of course)
I want to introduce you to everyone
Have you met…?
And tell strangers in the grocery store
About the most wonderful thing you did
And watch them smile kindly
over me gushing about you
across the stacks of tomatoes.
And I want to tell you over the phone about that stranger
So you can say
ew, tomatoes.
I don’t want to be fine, I want to be the kind of ecstatic
That only comes from us
From discussing everything from lipsticks to physics to musicals to dying
From knowing that when I am so tired I can feel it in my soul
You will hold me and let me cry
From believing it will always be us against everything
From living happily ever after
Because what is fine
Compared to this?
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
Bereft beyond contemplation,
still do impoverished
memories still falter.
And every petal that
lacerates within
inclines while scaring inward.
The blossom that you gave me,
soils slowly. Soon I will have
just the decaying perfume to linger on.
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
wana make a devils brew
maybe you already have
its easy
just want something with all your heart
and never get it despite every effort
have you suffered an accumulation of insults and deprivations
is it not like eating barbed wire and rocks
a chewed claw
that lacerates the pallet
and tears the throat
as it goes down
loves corpse
the burial of the unrequited
a devil is dragged to life out of that grave
its every impulse retribution
if you don't kiss me
ill bite you
if you don't love me
ill hate you
if you don't caress me
ill beat you
if you don't **** me
ill **** you
if you think me ugly
ill disfigure you
if you intimidate me
ill darken your soul with fear
if you ignore me
ill stalk you
if you take from me that which i have not given
i will grow teeth
like cleavers a glitter
and eat all your dreams
if you enslave me
i will strip you of freedoms privilege
if you look at me sideways
i will curse your soul
with a blink-less evil eye
he is here on earth by gods decree
hurled down
to this head stone of a planet
this mud ball coffin
to kick the guile and ignorance out of us
force our evolution
all this submerged
underneath our civility
and good manners
if you want to see it
look at your own reflection
and make a face of horrors
roll your eyes wide widdershins
disapproving
are you not ghastly
the sin is not the skin
it is the limits of mind
we live in a world of devils fighting devils
each shrunken creature
thinking themselves godly
ridding war chariots
outfitted
with square wheels
and appalling blood stained hooks
is that not the history of the world
is Satan not a deity
an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
GODS GIFT!
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
Crystal monument's blossom upward
and white light from them
lacerates a black skyline
as the blood of ancients trickle from tired
atmospheric wounds.
These droplets remind some of eternity
as they soak existence up and dampen past lives.
But for me they commemorate the now
and of a tangible present, rather than rejected antiquity.
Receiving this gift
I'll swim through today's rain
and accept the delirious drowning
of tonight.
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC
This Picture Perfect Family
Is family of contradiction.
Hands hold the frame of the Portrait;
Bitterness seethes with friction.
Repulsive as summer cockroach,
Its artwork I wish to reproach.
Faces full of fake smiles-
Cloyingly sick, I want to puke!
The portrait presents many lies.
This Picture Perfect Family,
The truth is it has been defiled!
Father fights Mother; home havoc!
Harmony crushed by clamor.
Though I may be a naive child,
This family has a vicious void.
Resentment rattles with full force;
The essence of love long destroyed;
Hatred only settled with divorce!
This Picture Perfect Family
Can only appear in my dreams.
The tone of painting I abhor;
Behind our smiles, gloominess gleams,
It does not show there is a war.
My mind screams in frustration
Like the eunuch’s first castration.
I wish this wretched pain to bury-
Emotions blurred by apathy!
This Picture Perfect Family
Will not exist any longer!
I wonder now what is at stake-
Foundation of love macerates.
Hands tremor in anguish anger;
The Family Portrait drops and breaks.
Glass frame shatters; heart lacerates.
Oh, let this Portrait rot in hell…
Picture Perfect Family farewell!
(c) Jo Swan
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 8:34 AM UTC
Her name was Razan Ashraf Abdul Qadir al-Najjar,
From 7am till 8pm she helped the injured,
Tending to them on the fields of freedom.
This was her weapon,
Her white medical coat,
Now stained with her life’s blood.
“Her only weapon was her medical vest,”
Her Mother’s voice drowns in pain,
“She may have been small, but she was strong.”
The last time she saw her daughter,
“She stood up and smiled at me,
She flew like a bird in front of me.”
The angel of mercy,
Her goal was to save lives,
And offer relief to the wounded.
Her arms raised high to show she was unarmed,
She approached a victim lying upon the ground,
But the Sniper’s trigger only knew the language of hatred.
And a bullet blinked hard and fast,
The wrath of the single butterfly bullet was so brutal
It ruptured into three other medics.
A bullet designed to explode upon impact,
It lacerates and pulverises bone and tissue,
The Devil’s Banned Bullet.
It was a Friday,
In the month of Ramadan,
When the desert sand drank her blood.
A weeping Mother kisses a jacket
Stained with her daughter’s blood,
“I wish I could have seen her in her white wedding dress.”
Only the songs of lamentations now,
Grief shrieks through the streets without water,
And the world watches in censored silence.
Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 12:15 AM UTC
three drops of heaven into weakened eyes
levitating now a vulture in the sky
murals of demure travertine thighs
spreading like scissors unveiling a bride
glowing green phosphorous hunger
bones rattled empty consumed by age
one eye is swooning and the other is set
ana crystalline Goddess lamented in red
skinless throne on glossed marble shards
blood that eludes her makes for the whitest macabre
vulture perching high on a skeletal frame
eyes lit with desire burning and depraved
cloth less a statue walks pale as death
black eyes a void present as the blackest breath
globes of carrion eyes shudder with lust
claws tap like lightning
towards delicate pearl legs
fog light greenhouse of dead human dolls
she plays them like puppets in clusters of storm clouds
laughs as my vulture ascends to his place
smiles as she caressed him and he pants as her slave
dances with the corpses as my madness descends
will kiss with the languorous feel of the dead
shivers descend
down feathered carrion spines
calmed preternatural
leather nails unholy white lines
black lips press to a mewling bald head
sleep cuts the sound and lacerates the strings
falls into the earth the grave worms begin
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
Rearranged my cupboard
Nothing mucky was found,
But,
To get control of the situation
Sometimes,
To get through
I do that too!
Arrows lacerates,
Like those unspoken words,
That we were supposed to express
Once!
That were meant to be heard,
Once!
Eventually they got off track,
And with each passing epoch
Resentment stays.
Feeling crouched,
Tried walking on the green grass
Barefoot.
But for how long
Will I be able to crawl,
I thought
Reminiscing,
And just drawl.
I might not know the reason,
Maybe I'll find it someday,
Till then,
Let me search for truth,
Veracity
In every single way.
Mar 2, 2020
Mar 2, 2020 at 1:25 AM UTC