"lacerating" poems
Superhuman in this skin
Red-lipped smile sweetly
(but beware teeth beneath)
I'm Sweet Siren Song
And I won't be long left
within this mediocre maniverse
Pretty porn-portrait perfect
(But there's no staples lacerating this muffin top)
Withstand this cosmetic culture curse
Bedspread silky sodden sheets
Writhing within nightmare glare
silicon butterfly spiked beauty ages anyway
Go away,
I'm finished.
I MEAN IT!
Fucknuts
(I guess Fucknuts isn't an advertiseable commodity. What's with the cheap advertising links in my poetry!)
bedspread.
****
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
Just a little, just a small, just a bit
Exuding burst of energy
Embodiment of brilliance
Manifested in human flesh
Wondering while we walk
Trembling trying to talk
Mankind mostly marred momentum
Humanity how humiliating, hiding
Forefathers frowning, from our fabricated forget
Refusing redemption, requiring rancor and retribution
Always armed, allured, awaiting angry accusations
Derailed doves, these daggers drag down
Losing level landings, lacerating learning's lifting
Just a little, just a small, just a bit
Exuding burst of energy
Embodiment of brilliance
Manifested in human flesh
I implore indignation, it's incarceration of our intrinsic immensity
At the core of our conception, captivating creation captured
Anyone, everyone, afraid of the amazement accrued under our armor
Profoundness, endless as the universe, favoring our existence
Just a little, just a small, just a bit
Exuding burst of energy
Embodiment of brilliance
Manifested in human flesh
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Take your seat
Your love gifted me thousand buckets of memories all are smeared with tears
Drink the caffeine-tears I shed for you
I want to know the feelings of lacerating me that you nourish in your heart,
I am trapped in your love
Like a fly trapped in a spider’s web
If you are not a picaroon, if you are not a sorceress,
If you are not a heart breaker, if you are not the heart snatcher
If you are not the birth giver of my poetry, if you are not my chimera
Reason of my all phantasm, if you are not an oath breaker
Then you are not my woman.
For you my poems are the best caffeine that you might ever have….
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
Tribulations and my afflictions are misery
This cryptic, ironic, depiction is misery.
-
The warmth of the sanguine is never in me
The cold cells of mine are dead, are misery.
-
What would it take to ever **** me?
Perhaps, if only one thing, misery.
-
What is a sickness without remedy?
It is a malignant growth of misery.
-
Verification of my friend, my enemy,
Certainly my brother, my nemesis misery.
-
Confidence is precedence in my virility,
Verily infecting, lacerating misery.
-
I, Andrew, deny that ever woe could have been me,
Although I surrender, I succumb to misery.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
-on a mummy whisperer encouraging an ancient,
dedicated servant to worship his mistress once again
Come, rise, out of your bandages.
Do not fear her reptile grin,
those dead, cold, killing eyes,
that lacerating tongue.
Watch that glimmer of hope:
the naivety of her simple feet,
those loose phalanges calling for bonds.
Come, kneel, kiss them tender!
Those harmless toes,
that innocence, clumsy and unspoiled.
Now love, hope and fear can make you
find yourself in bandages, again.
Look upward, eyes shut...
Loose yourself in cosmic lights:
her toe tips brightly guide you through the night.
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
This secret, best kept away
from prying hands that drop
eyes on eaves and awnings.
They stay within
the perimeter of spies and agents
doubling as bartender ears,
drink up and pour
the punch that hits you where
you bleed invisible. The spleen
lacerating split, a penetrating
ooze, cleaves back and forth with you.
Drain out and glaze over. Be very,
very still.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 3:18 AM UTC
Unburied
tomorrow
from Christian metanarratives
the mid-winter solstice.
December 21;
the shortest day
over the longest night.
Two lovers
are by the Channel
divided
to different beds
to tongue tastes
to timed beats
to unfamiliar scents
as Yuletide days
burn twelfths to gray ash;
their bodies
are sea
cleaved.
Come!
cross the water
and release
with lively touch
tresses thick
and winter's dew,
unctuous upon the crag,
the timely solar orb
to stir the frozen ground
on our rocky shelves
and chopped bowels.
On 25th,
Christ's star is risen:
the king's light dispersed
in lengthening days
in opened flesh
in loosening chords untied
in sinews gnawed through
in desire's wanting hotly flayed!
60 seconds were daily added,
to when
in the 100 Year Gallery,
love to know,
would in solstice
ultimately lay.
For now as then,
our emboldened play
in days delayed
has been
love's lacerating torment!
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 12:05 AM UTC
Night was ruled
by deceit, every moment,
deepening shadows moved
with poisionous intentions,
knives of sharp lights
they hid behind their back.
An authoritarian owl,
angrily kept threatening its opponents,
by repeatedly stabbing
the silence of the night,
with his shocking hoots.
When the cadaverous moon
slyly came out of cloud thickets,
trotting foxes hiding
behind gravestones,
made intermittent eerie howls,
lacerating the dark muteness.
A mighty night bird,
off and on, drew its shadow,
across the moon's surface,
but never felt satisfied
The barking dogs
all at once stopped,
and created panic.
Like death knell,
wind made noises,
on the foliage of trees.
A dejected lover,
wrote a melancholy note,
spilling out sad thoughts,
in the faint light
of a dying oil lamp.
An adulterous woman,
impatiently waited
near her half opened window,
looking out for
her midnight paramour,
who never keeps time as promised.
The night stood still,
spreading its serpent hood,
listening to million secret sounds
watching everything,
without batting an eyelid.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 3:49 AM UTC
735
Upon Concluded Lives
There’s nothing cooler falls—
Than Life’s sweet Calculations—
The mixing Bells and Palls—
Make Lacerating Tune—
To Ears the Dying Side—
’Tis Coronal—and Funeral—
Saluting—in the Road—
1.6k
I come from a place of empathy
where perceptions
is a mix of colors
of hers, his and their
perspective.
I come from a place of empathy
where ears are made of patience,
drums sensitive to the change in wavelength,
de-weaving complexity
into simplicity.
I come from a place of empathy
where the emotions lacerating
hearts – sliced,
run parallel through me.
You lock into my embrace,
finding the comfort of compassion
amongst the rusty and scraping conditions.
When you project anger, fear, and angst
I start dissecting your past,
your rearing,
justifying and understanding
the origins of the
hand and experiences
that shaped you.
You render your mind open,
as I step in
walk among the stars, darkness
and the turbulent waves crashing within.
Your emotions tingle my skin,
and linger within me
as I understand wor(l)d apart,
developing cross-cultural understanding
and objectifying subjectivity.
Though I begin to understand
the origins, stem of your being,
swaying with your words
and hazing in the paradox of other’s being.
I choose to succumb to gravity,
and remain sturdy on certain beliefs.
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019 at 9:11 AM UTC
You need sunglasses when your staring at me
Cause the light I emanate scars the retina of my enemies
There is no cure for the blindness you will endure
A pain perpetuated by the ignorance so perniciously procured
Squared against an inevitable death I easily steal your breath from the barrel of my Smith and Wess
Watching your hollow tears bleed on the canvas I project
a cataclysmic disaster wrapped up in a dismal death
We sit here at the pinnacle of our lives speaking in shadows
Masking our mouths from what we oblige
Stop and listen to the earth as it decries
The subtle architecture of this worldly demise
So as we kick back and sorely reside
I’ll be the change in the coming tide
Caged inside tortured flesh I search for rest to keep the human condition suppressed
But all I find each time that I design a new quest I become a servant of death
Invigorated by the test I stretch my consciousness to tear the limbs off your chest and beat you senseless
I won’t stop there, I’ll slit the throat leaving you without hope and then drown it in Everclear
While I may seem like a cynic
I’m not through with these gimmicks
Lacerating your heart with the bones I striped from your tendons
I’m not an advocate of violence but
Sometimes the pilot of peace needs to be reached by setting loose the destruction we inherently seek
We sit here at the pinnacle of our lives speaking in shadows
Masking our mouths from what we oblige
Stop and listen to the earth as it decries
The subtle architecture of this worldly demise
And I’ll hide my words with silence
And I’ll no longer become violent
Just another subservient machine lost in a sea of tyrants
I won’t be blunt here I’ll keep dropping metaphorical bombs onto your ears
Until all my peers understand the imminent plan that needs to be adhered:
Stop short cause change is impossible to purport
Don’t dream cause it’ll get shattered with a corporate hammer
Stay sinking in a world that raises a stagnant banner
Assimilate with the overzealous overweight materialism that manifests in the minds of the poor and is perpetuated by strip malls and ******
Mar 20, 2010
Mar 20, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC
bleeding comments on a scribble pad
interactions regulating a previous history
in words of spontaneous repeats
projecting the colour of dreams
in a world of violet sky
that has dispensed with night and day
in elliptical words that dilate
to a lacerating urgency
where apocalyptic statements
unleash in silent appraisal
a symbiosis of male and female
the creation of a new species
survivors of anaemic journeys
where one does not need to search
for identity in the other
but experiences that freedom
from the strain of isolation
and pieces together the fragments of
a once thought insoluble puzzle
that is disturbed in hidden speech
in bleeding comments on
an unruled scribble pad
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
Still more, in words
In experience
Confusing Familiarity with Comfort
Confusing Comfort with Peace
Reifying confusion, but not successfully
Yielding, on my knees, heart to the sky
Forgetting
Seeing through, a single pinhole in a perfectly realistic backdrop
Pinholes everywhere, more than can be contained
Not containing
Torn all over
Dispelling everything
Stripping away the Stripping away
Trying to stand very still and very quite so I can feel, hear, sense
Perfect realism
Wanting to be convinced by rage
Agitation, but only conceptual
Feeling tight
Feeling rehearsed
Feeling like an imposter
Wanting to impress
Wanting to be convinced of Self, of Realness
Fortified by others knowing, or preferably- admiration
Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes
Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, likes, thumbs up
Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead
Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse
Compassion, like collapsing into a safe lap
Relinquishing
No pretense
Bare being
More naked than when unclothed
Total exposure
Outed, in the light of knowing
Self forgetting and glimpses of freedom
Trusting sighing
Always loving Sad, not despondent, just sad
Feeling continuous
Feeling fragmented
Feeling like motion, like flow
Feeling like thousands of still frames, constant flickering
Grasping at impermanence, visceral
Resting in the middle
Dancing down the tightrope
Knowing perfect poise, brief equilibrium
Reifying stability. Gone.
Everything is hysterically funny
Hysterically
But also, sometimes, just plain humorous
And absurd
Crying
Loving people
Grateful for people
Seeing beauty everywhere
Encountering this, intimate, me, indistinguishable being, but everywhere
Ouch
Awareness
Always coming back
Like an epic
Like a great love story
Like the last wring of that silk dress you weren't supposed to squeeze dry
Feeling like I shouldn't know what I know, like I couldn't. This must be illegal, cosmically illegal
Knowing the inside of my hand
Knowing teenage shame
Knowing being yelled at, towered over, by my dad, in a narrow hallway, eyes glued to speckled floor tiles, feeling small
Loving with my body, with my hands, with my mouth, with my whole entire strong softness
Loving with understanding
Loving with teeth and nails
Music, lacerating
Crying with tears, and snot, and heaving
Becoming one single, concentrated point
Wanting to envelope everything. Really. Actually. Like physically with my body.
Knowing I am not this voice
Or this writer
Or this narrator
Though I am also all that
Aug 6, 2022
Aug 6, 2022 at 12:07 AM UTC
Frost bites the early morning air
With slight sentiments of late October chill
The stars twilight in their abysmal obsidian oblivion
Exploding supernovas in a heavy silent achromatic chasm
Gnarled swaying branches of the ancient corkscrew willow
Lashes about with a fevered frenzy of demonic intent
Howling coyote wind whips wildly
Lacerating frigid frost-bitten animal skin
Numbing and chilling both bone and marrow
The sun has yet to rise
Keeping its warmth concealed
For a few hours further
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC
This art alone will not quench my thirst
So, I pushed to the street in a disorderly burst
Not as myself but as the lacerating beast
He erased my fish-like stare and began his feast
His fangs pierced deep and would not let go
Implanting them shrewdly as a seed would be sown
Stared through my mind but he saw only me
A cowardly corpse of the filthiest degree
Dragging me further by the arduous lights
That shun on my skin and reflected mere blight
Forcing me to confront the dwelling of lies
As I loitered the entrance I screeched my despise!
The masochist's dream is really quite lame
Like smothering an ash from becoming a flame
To bright forth the end is such a shame
What a waste of time to miss out on pain..
Do what thou wilt is the whole of our law
Next to that indulge in your flaws
Be who you are and love under will
But remember again do what thou wilt!
The demon left me and I felt swift again
Why should I leave and not take a friend?
Might as well reveal that not much is real
and bring forth the extent of misery I can feel
The scent of death was close and would surely come
And to my surprise I knew where it was from
The pits of lust and her treacherous Gaze
Leading me through the most grotesque haze
Upon my arrival I was ceased to a sudden halt
for what lay before me was preparing its assault
Three seeds of evil from the lowest circle of hell
but these had faces that I could remember so well
The first was my love but she had no eyes
They had been gouged and now hang at her thighs
"I can't believe you're content with stupidity!"
She screamed at me with the utmost sense of pity
That sight alone was a dream come true
A boundless arousal that was sincerely due
The bliss I betrayed was evoked once more
Into the depths of my stomach my innards it tore
Glanced upon her flesh again and it began to rot
At least seemingly so or obviously not
I'd finally met god and I knew he'd been watching
My sorrows to date and the guilt I was flaunting
He mocked my existence and showed me his fame
From that moment forward I knew who to blame
This deity was consciousness and I hated him so
I needed to run but where could I go?
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
I wished to speak to be heard
Voice,
Speech,
Sound,
But a butterfly
Did land upon my lips
Its elegant wings,
Gently dissipated every word I said
I tried to hear as wings ascended,
From all around,
I touched my ears
Fingers lacerated by soft wings
Like petals,
Wings Faintly
Brushed against my hair,
Silence,
Muted,
Quite,
Was the only sound
I only had my eyesight as
All around was anarchy
Wings ascending
Flesh,
Cutting,
Lacerating,
Blood,
Was upon the floor,
Nothing heard
Screams silenced by delicate wings,
Those who didn't have
Voice,
Hearing,
Sight,
Stood still, frozen in place
While wings adorned them
I ran, I still had sight,
People upon the earth
Fallen,
Bled out,
To many wings had cut,
But as I looked
Eye lids heavy,
I looked in the window,
And saw two on my lids
Pushing them down ,
With each flap of there wings,
Darkness progressed
I was nearly blind,
Then the world I saw
For the last time,
My last view delicate creatures
Wings soft and colourful,
Now I am in darkness,
Blind,
Silence,
Speech,
Taken away with faint wings
I surrendered myself
My fate, my senses taken,
Only death did await me now.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 8:11 AM UTC
mutant mannequins
stare from the shop window
visions of Venus de Milo
awaiting the hour to come alive
indecipherable simulations
anonymous
yet they have about them
a lacerating urgency
an elliptical and oblique
consciousness
that emits the light
of relative thought
establishing a symbiosis
of non gender
that stimulates the color of dreams
in unleashed silent appraisal
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 1:30 PM UTC
A thousand untamed words will unleash the other thousand too ,
from the memoirs ,
caged in a rust full of room ::
I will throw a pebble of darkness
into the chasm of stagnation .
Then the ripples of cold will feel,
lacerating my skin from under,
as if someone
scratching the pith of my soul frenziedly .
The denseness of blood
murkier than darkness
oozing of out my arteries
while the fallen angel
~LUCIFER~
sitting on his throne ,
ardently longing me ,
TO
TAKE
ME
BY
HIS
SIDE .
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
It oozed from my nails like blood
But darker, no pain, it fell upon the floor
It was warm around my toes
"It was like a puddle walked after a storm"
But then then
Lacerations,
Irritation,
Convulsions
As what once bleed from my nails
Now pierced my flesh,
My body trembled,
As I hit the floor,
"Shaking uncontrollably"
It crept under my skin
Burning upon every nerve, but then
Pierced,
Cracked,
Perforated
From under the skin,
I touched the first,
"I screamed in plentiful agony"
As if a raw Nerve had been openly touched,
It was like poison ivy, my skin
Discoloured veins of
Red,
Blue,
Black
Slowly crept over the open wounds,
It had moved to my trunk,
***** of black spewed forth"**
As it entwined,
Like clawed fingers
Lacerating my internal organs,
I moved back,
"Crawled upon the floor"
The now solid nerves
Scrapped, scratching the wooden boards,
It was a futile act, as if I could escape
That which was under my skin,
My arms were perforated
Upon my throat, veins crept
As it knew that if
Pierced,
Bleed,
Breath
No more would be had,
But each was as if embers of flame
Inhaled, exhaled with each painful breath,
It crawled underneath flesh, agony
Not letting me go,
I was conscious
"Even though I preyed to pass out"
It clawed
Slowly,
Intentionally,
At each eye, like a thousand paper cuts
My eyes cried tears of black,
As I was shown the darkness within
That which had taken form externally, I was
Corrupted,
Polluted,
Distorted
Darkness that had crept beneath my skin,
And with that I exhaled,
"Black feathers spewed forth"
Cutting at my throat
As I ejected the darkness
These black feathers not hitting the floor
Instead just floating around,
"As I expelled once more"
Till one feather of white exited
With each touch
Black became white,
Ever brighter the room became,
Like a blanket covering I slept
"I awoke"
"Under white sheets"
"Was this but a dream, a nightmare"
"I coughed and exhaled"
"A tiny black feather exited"
Then I knew that darkness is always inside,
But it can grow upon the soul,
Cutting into the white,
Like a vine corrupting upon the flesh
Good,
Light,
&
Bad
Darkness,
Are things of life
But we must never let the
Darkness blot out the light and take control of our life.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 4:54 AM UTC
I am a vase.
I sit alone,
on a flimsy shelf,
my vibrant colors smothered
under a layer of protective dust.
Look closely,
There are cracks in my gently rounding curves,
almost invisible,
where pieces once fit.
All made by the hands of mirrored friends.
Where blossoms of entrancing beauty once stood
there is nothing.
I am empty.
I am a dandelion,
standing alone in a naked field.
My white fluff threatening to leave
at the breath of greener pastures.
I whisper for the gusts not to blow,
but they do not hear.
I am alone.
I am a mirror.
There I hang for all to gaze into
with agonizing vanity.
I am a result
of their deep-set hubris
and ever-present pride.
I am a window to their souls,
reflecting their imagined qualities
as the naked truth of their cruelty.
They smash my candor
into a thousand lacerating pieces.
And I am broken.
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 5:20 PM UTC
I only caught glimpses of his eyes while he spoke
words, lacerating this pneuma
and stuffing superlatives in this innermost being.
the wisdom I believed I possessed tumbled like Jericho
and I could hear the audacious screams of the Israelites
like blood torrents in arteries.
it’s a shame, I thought. He had a good heart.
pomegranate pnumbras flicker like fire behind my eyelids
and it burns there, too.
can I leave?
a smooth muscle ***** pumps blood and serotonin through platelets back into arteries
and I hungrily drink this newfound oxygen.
and all around the splintered cage
I saw orange slice smiles and white yacht clouds drifting through a blue ocean.
but a quick slip up pulled me away
and the faceless effigy stood pristine with metaphorical eyes,
of which I only caught a glimpse.
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 5:35 PM UTC
Hypergraphia is lacerating carotid
Finally bloodletting into slumber
Hippocampus that
Incinerates its own
Neuron forest and becomes
A conflagration
Because chars are ruby embers
In nocturnal hunger
Of the lens nucleus
Shaken in the tremors
Deep below tectonic plates
Disjointed in the fabric of reality
Severing the empyreal bonds;
Do not hold back,
But onwards, Horsemen,
Hammer that stampede
Unto centaur constructs
Fleeing from the dreamer
Let them shatter in the cracks
Sinking with the dirt into oblivion
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
The air is thick with perfume and cologne,
It's that time again,girls and boys out on the prowl,
Ladies flashing their fingers, to show tyey're alone,
Men responding while she walks by, with a growl,
Hormones flying all over the place,false everything,
Why cant we just be ourselves,
Make-up caked round their faces creating a ring,
To the point where we consist of chemist shelves,
Nails, skin,eyes, hair, teeth, all out of a bottle,
Surely guys, you dont like these orange girls,
Au naturale thoughts make them gag and throttle,
Spray tan this, false up that,wear a tooth pick, and swirl,
Take one home and next morning, her face is on the pillow,
And your sheets have turned bronzy gold,
You've just stood on a falsie, lacerating your big toe,
Half an hour in the bathrrom and your water is cold,
But the funny thing is, when she leaves all so bare,
You find out that she's very attractive,
Then tonight, when you see her, with very big hair!,
Call a cab, run away, to the next gig...
(c) [email protected] 2010
Feb 5, 2010
Feb 5, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
Words evolve
Stanzas create concepts
Compouding into ideas
Fiendish
Extremely cruel
Unpleasant, devilish
Spreading like wildfire
Abyssian flames consume
The mind now enveloped
Two syllables
Imbued with power
To control, to identify
Through willing submission
The pen lashes out
Lacerating wounds
Bleed the word
The obsession of madness
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC