"lurid" poems
Lurid pressure in perfect hiding,
Heat rises amidst quiet timing.
Covers conceal fingers,
And skin conceals-
Well,
Only from the blinded.
Flitting breath from lungs to neck,
Begging tongue,
And baiting breast.
Tentative flesh,
Upon tentative flesh,
What comes next?
Anything I want,
If this is,
Yes.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 10:03 PM UTC
Dusting off the rabbity
that squirrely tempo anxiety,
closing in with night.
The irresistible pattern
the irrational illogical fight
a battle with one’s discipline,
mirroring our might.
I make it home a fluttering
belly twirled and muttering,
I tell myself tis alright!
The damage done, and everyone,
I’m just like them and millions more
succumbing at the Devil’s door.
And the taste, the burn,
the healing calm,
the shaking and the thinking gone.
Knock one back, slam out another
night is early, rock it brother,
Tying on a swilly swirling
buzzed-out brain and mind a twirling. . .
“Ahhhh…”
I feel better now, exhilarated,
exasperation falls to stout resound;
I pour again and knock it down!
“Ahhhh…”
Spinning now, not to say I’m spun
but choosey choosing several a pun
I see myself an accomplished one!
Yes, that’s it, that is me,
look upon with thoughts of glory
yank open the freezer for glass that’s hoary. . .
How cool am I? certainly not boring
all night I’m here, pouring, pouring. . .
Buzz subsides, thoughts slow too,
lurid leering, slobbering swearing,
stupid actions and nothing new?
I lose the bottle,
I lose my shirt,
***** on myself,
pass out in dirt.
Another night of drunken hero,
time that’s wasted for kingly Nero.
But who am I to judge myself?
*I’m hardly worse than anyone else?* *
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
she loved thunder storms most of all
the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky
the sheer immensity of power
she always thought it was him
her beloved God
big boy
Thor
with his flowing blond hair
blue aquatic eyes
washboard stomach
and delicately curved *****
finally a man good enough for her
even if he was fly by night
when the heavens thickened gray
like soggy cotton
she could feel atmospheres shift
it made her ******* pert
her mouth would salivate
like a lurid peach
her ***** swelled and dampened
tears of adoration and enchantment
filled her eyes
no longer able to contain her self
she would strip naked
fling off her *******
and run out to the lush verdant meadows
calling at the top of her lungs
yoooooooooo hooooooooooo
as the cool rain descended
she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes
seeing great claws of white lightening echo
through the sky
without hesitation
she fell to the cool earth beneath her
wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze
positioning her self on all fours
head thrown back
*** up high
calling to the heavens
come on, come on big boy
ive been waiting for you
let me have it good
her clitoral lips
drooled with anticipation
her ******
a pulsating aching
the sky rumbled
with stretching streaks of fire
like a great freight train
spanning infinity
while the earth shook like a
hollow moon
she swayed her hips
rhythmically to and fro
whispering a love song
*oh sir
i need a man like you
wont you love me
adorations true
i kneel before
my sweet Lord Thor
where's that hammer
come on and score
you are so big
and im so little
how about it God
just a tickle
hit it now
give it to me good
kisses baby
like only you could*
tears of desire cascaded
down her pink cheeks
as she recited her love mantra
her mouth naked wet
suddenly
a great bolt of lightening
shot down from heavens throne
entering her ******
splitting her in flames
her head turned dark mahogany
sent careening fifty yards
leaving her mouth
a yawning twisted smudge
of fossilized obsidian
with eyes
blackened flaring hollows
her tender pink ****
a charred flower
smoldering
like a
petite
grilled
calamari
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 9:45 AM UTC
I.
“No doubt they’ll sing in tune after the Revolution.”
-Kamarovsky, Doctor Zhivago (film)
Everyone seems to clench his fist these days
In solidarity with ephemera
While setting fire to green recycling bins
Hurling someone else’s bicycle through a window
Armed with their undergraduate degrees
The comrades liberate a coffee shop
Wifi-ing the revolution of the day
Empowerment by beating love to death
Loudsplaining authentic victimization
Posing for selfies with a stolen ‘phone
II.
Their inhumanity seemed a marvel of class-consciousness, their barbarism a model of proletarian firmness…
-Doctor Zhivago, p. 349
Everyone seems to clutch his flag these days
In solidarity with a past that wasn’t
While setting fire to misspelled cardboard signs
Hurling someone else’s beer into a crowd
Armed with their lurid Confederate tats
The Something.Right liberate a dumpster
Bull-horning the counter-revolution
Empowerment by beating love to death
Bellowing their Reconquista of stench
Posing behind their cheap gas station shades
III.
“I used to admire your poetry...I shouldn't admire it now. I should find it absurdly personal. Don't you agree? Feelings, insights, affections... it's suddenly trivial now. You don't agree; you're wrong. The personal life is dead…”
-Strelnikov to Yuri, Doctor Zhivago (film)
Some few embrace civilization these days
In solidarity with humanity
While lighting one small candle as a votive
Whispering an Ave into the Light
Armed with wonder through pen and flute and brush
Recusants choose the liberation given
In singing of the eternal verities
Self-empowerment happily denied
With love, with poetry, music, and art
Celebrating life on this summer day
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:09 PM UTC
my darkest poems
bloodletting streams
are a kind of ******
fetishy cognitive inventory
malformed denizens
of the subconscious
a well of torments
soup of Salmonella
the souls gut
its cauldron
yet not with out lurid enticements
and voluptuous supplicants
gorgeous
like an eight legged woman
with beautiful feet
drooling **** lips
drunk on sacrificial rituals
of blood black tongued kisses
and hideous contorted pleasures
********
once
exquisite archetypes
gods and goddesses
are now
putrefied
cellar dwellers
moaning in nature bed crypts
of rock, stone
and engraved sigils
because honest pure desires
became fragmentary
and are now gimping amputees
by legions of primal disappointment
while faces blare in the world
like super bright L.E.D.s
shinning paths to others
our deep self
remains patinaed in tears
a black box pox with a lock
the skeleton key lost
in arcane seas
out of utter disgust
for those dark crawlers
that live within us
revealing them selves
as anxieties, depressions
suicides
and myriad quiet despairs
we appear undaunted
to others
and they to us
humanity
muffled ticks
and splintered sticks
my poems let my demons out
yoo who its me
my name is spray snake z
with my hooks and cries
and dark blood skies
in the misty night
i dragged out their earthen coffins
legends of the despicable
resurrected them
fed and loved those darklings
had every conceivable union with them
their healing, my own
ive sexualized them
and found love
albeit twisted
to be adored
in a hidden embrace
i bestow upon you a poetic fantasy
while obsession takes hold
bind it not
nor let it bind you*
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
old hunger makes us sick
forget who we are and
where we're going
how to see thru fog
how to pierce the sky
where's the truth in all this
mustard gas and lies
translucent silken shadows of people
wishy washy wistful thinking like
'o look at big sophisticated words dribbling across page - verbal *****
great philosopher all expression and
thought purge speaking in a vacuum'
petulant little lines for liar's lurid heart
petty little fines growing large from the start
what is this point you speak of and how do we get there
if it is really about the journey and not the destination
then can i get off right now
or
can i be seal eye headlight hi beams
is there trust enough left between us two
to go on down this road together
or part ways at lightning fork in path
no
i go into petrified forest bog
to hide and melt and decompose
bucolic rot under stalwart stoic onlooking trees
you go to riches, glory, ******* and now sprouting planted seeds
misgivings all forgotten like
irreverent, irrelevant childish deeds
and
i grow bitter and ferment
starving gut absinthe
filled with frozen wormwood lies
like Poe and de Quincy and all the rest
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC
Puissant piquant and predatory
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar
Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind
He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier
He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes
Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate
He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds
Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your carnal ecstasies revealed
You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm
You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs
With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal
Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance
Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing
Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast
Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive
Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky
Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra
Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose
Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate
Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary
Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition
Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire
Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously
Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration
Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry
Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium
Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary
***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic
Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus
Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty
Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity
Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology
Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic
Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal
Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify
Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
MONKEY IN A RED FEZ DANCING TO ABBA
I watch the children play
on a sunny Sunday in Rotterdam
like a stereotypical alien
studying humans.
Their cries rise and fall
like seagulls as they swing
sea-sawing or blurring into one
on a brightly coloured turnstile.
A man looking
like a badly drawn cartoon
turns the handle slowly of
a broken down barrel *****
A monkey in a red fez
dances on the end of a chain.
The barrel ***** spews out
everything from Abba to Franz Lehar.
The decrepit old man
and even more decrepit monkey
appear as if they have
stepped out of another century.
I am far from home.
The day is dying.
I read from my battered book
Hamsun's HUNGER.
It's lurid cover torn
half hanging on/off.
The park deserted now
as night steals its colours.
The last words of
of this the final chapter
are lost to me
swallowed by the dark.
The barrel ***** peersists
the soundtrack to some forgotten film
The monkey red fez
fallen at its feet.
The monkey blissfully
asleep.
The music caught
entangled in branches and leaves.
I watch the yellow lights
blossom one by one
a silhouette of houses
like a stage set.
Houses like cut-out silhouettes
a stage set.
The last lines revealed
under a passing lamp
"...where the windows shone so
brightly in every home..."
I laugh at such
a coincidence.
Leave the book on the bench
for some other me
to discover
when the sun comes up.
And return
to my space ship.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC
Finite fictitious fornicatious faux pas flamboyance flippant flighty
Quantify quixotic quagmire quintessence quantum quasi queasy
Corporeal conjunctive conjugational coercion critique credibility critically
Xenobiotic xanadu xylem xylophagous xerophilous xenophile xylography
Kinesiology kinetics kleptomania kobold kowtow kangaroo court keeky
Acerbity asperity acuity agility articulation autonomy artistry
Warranty wrangle wrest wrought wroth wreak wrathy
Nimbus nimiety nihilism notorious nostrum notch nugatory
Heuristic holistic homogeny huckster horizon hornswoggle *****
Unary unbridled uncanny unfathomable usurping ultimatum unity
Sensorium subliminal suborn substantiation subtlety solace sultry
Zealotry zygosity zoic Zephyr zilch zoomorphic zoolatry
Exoneration eulogy edifice extemporaneous exaserbational exigency enmity
Blasphemously blatant brusque belligerent bodacious bartizan beastly
Repertoire rendition rectitude recital radix repartee ramify
Juxtaposition jaunt jurisprudence jettison jeopardy jocular jouncy
Plenary plenipotentiary pandemic plagiaristic portentous potentate paltry
Desperate despicable deplorable denigrational denouement douceur dastardly
Grandiose genuflection glitch gestational genre gesticulation gimpy
Yantra yenta yerk yoni yore yowl yogi
Icky icon ichor ictus incus -ics idolatry
Tractive transition tellurian terrestrial tantamount telepathy talismanically
Vast vauntness vector venery verve volition votary
Languishing lurid licentious longevous loquacity lingam lucidity
Monstrance mendacity moribund morsel meticulous meatus motivity
Optimal ornate opulence ostensive ordinate odious ornery
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers and tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
No rays from the holy Heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently—
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free—
Up domes—up spires—up kingly halls—
Up fanes—up Babylon-like walls—
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers—
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.
There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol’s diamond eye—
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass—
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea—
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave—there is a movement there!
As if the towers had ****** aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide—
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow—
The hours are breathing faint and low—
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.
4.9k
MA KING AME-RICA GRATE AGIN
( for Brian )
"Your mum's an alien..an...
ha ha ha ha alien!"
the children chant
and taunt.
I see through tears
their sneers and hated
etched upon
their features
like a mask they
could/couldn't take off.
It is like a thousand years ago
all over again.
The Age of the thing
called Trump
when humans were both
orange and stupid.
Now we have computers
built into each whorl
facts at our fingertips
with just a finger snap
we can call up what used to be
called videos
of the Trump thing
teaching humans how to hate.
I, unlike my sisters
am not green
except for
a slight greenish
hue every now
and then.
I am more the chameleon
and can blend in.
I have the necessary arms
and the obligatory number of eyes.
Only my mum and sisters
look like a lurid 1950's comic
"THEY CAME FROM OUTER SPACE!"
yet earth would not be
here if aliens( us )had not come
to save them from themselves
back when earth had entered
the Age of Dictators
as the history apps.
quaintly put it
Now is come again
the hateful hate
ma king Ame-rica
grate again
like a mind
grinding its teeth.
I'm sorry am
the English no good
and the spelling as well
we will
have to hide behind
our mind walls
that we had to build
to keep humans out.
My mother taking me
lovingly in her tentacles
stroking me and drying my eyes
and making tea
With a snap of my fingers
I bring up my favourite video
and a Kermit hologram
floats before my face
"It's not that easy bein' green!"
and I singalong like any human being
"...when green is all there is to be."
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 5:10 AM UTC
Nightmares bring forth my minds deepest worries
They unleash unknown evil I want not
Dark demons, an evil creature scurries
A beasts breath is on me and it burns hot
As I feel myself sink into dreamland
Terrors in the night wake and walk about
Afraid evil will touch me with its hand
I feel fear well up and I start to shout
Weight of emptiness crushing me to tears
A shadow of death looks down so vivid
Lurid evil feeds on my minds worst fears
A sharp faced demon bares teeth so livid
As I slowly begin to awaken
I see relieved, my life isn't taken
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 9:28 AM UTC
It's poisonous claws
scratching up from the inside
of my chest, they open
a path of lurid squalor
festering the internal wounds
with rotting meat
that spreads from within
to the skin that crawls
and dies, cell by cell
into the empty stale air
surrounding our conversation
The words float
from one breath to another
without ever really landing
to a precise spot
of connection
They just mimic meanings
and thoughtfulness
when they are void of any feelings
There is no spark of life
no life itself
denied to us
by the putrid scent
we ignore the existence of
No knowledge of pain
or reality
just a dull sense
of immortality
as we still
like the dust suspended
motion our lips without sense
nor sense of self
Corroding second by second
by second 'til we
become dust ourselves
Apr 25, 2022
Apr 25, 2022 at 8:53 AM UTC
I proclaim myself independent, proud, firmly in control,
What a deception.
I want nothing more than to abandon every shred of independence,
In place of you.
I beg you to see your my feeble attempts to distance myself from you,
Seize me.
I know you’ll probably just end up hurting me all over again,
I care not.
I take such a lurid pleasure in surrendering to another,
Despite the consequences.
I feel shackled by my own autonomy and pride,
Free me.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 2:52 AM UTC
A GLEAM -- a gleam -- from Ida's height,
By the Fire-god sent, it came;
From watch to watch it leapt, that light,
As a rider rode the flame!
It shot through the startled sky,
And the torch of that blazing glory
Old Lemnos caught on high,
On its holy promontory,
And sent it on, the jocund sign,
To Athos, Mount of Jove divine.
Wildly the while, it rose from the isle,
So that the might of the journeying Light
Skimmed over the back of the gleaming brine!
Farther and faster speeds it on,
Till the watch that keeps Macistus steep
See it burst like a blazing Sun!
Doth Macistus sleep
On his tower-clad steep?
No! rapid and red doth the wild fire sweep;
It flashes afar on the wayward stream
Of the wild Euripus, the rushing beam!
It rouses the light on Messapion's height,
And they feed its breath with the withered heath.
But it may not stay!
And away -- away --
It bounds in its freshening might.
Silent and soon,
Like a broadened moon,
It passes in sheen, Asopus green,
And bursts on Cithaeron gray!
The warder wakes to the Signal-rays,
And it swoops from the hill with a broader blaze.
On, on the fiery Glory rode;
Thy lonely lake, Gorgopis, glowed!
To Megara's Mount it came;
They feed it again
And it streams amain--
A giant beard of Flame!
The headland cliffs that darkly down
O'er the Saronic waters frown,
Are passed with the Swift One's lurid stride,
And the huge rock glares on the glaring tide.
With mightier march and fiercer power
It gained Arachne's neighboring tower;
Thence on our Argive roof its rest it won,
Of Ida's fire the long-descended Son!
Bright Harbinger of glory and of joy!
So first and last with equal honor crowned,
In solemn feasts the race-torch circles round. --
And these my heralds! -- this my SIGN OF PEACE;
Lo! while we breathe, the victor lords of Greece
Stalk, in stern tumult, through the halls of Troy!
3.7k
Hold it!
whole ***
whale fitting
room
bowing walls
expanding spandex
seams stretched out of shape
lurid –
disturbed images play across the screen
biggest loser season MCMXVII
American dream with heavy cream
and spleenwiches
cleaning the crumbs,
bums long for an extra morsel
gnawing on dorsal fins
grinning, toothless, at least they have their figures
that figures says the emaciated diet queen
leave it to the homeless to be the only group
worthy of the runway –
starvation date
only the grumbling cuts the uncomfortable silence
empty bellies howl for nourishment
instead are fed meds and red licorice
which is immediately vomited
for fear of caloric inconsistency –
breathing adds blubber
to thighs and midriffs
marital spiff over the last cookie
sugar substitutes
substituting themselves for love and compassion
lashing out at the one above
fat girls with teary eyes cry
for just five more pounds
the dress fit in 1978 –
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
My eyes are drawn toward your toes
as frequently as lover’s eyes
do meet and tie their souls in knots.
Your toes that grasp and stretch and lift
you up to reach the chocolate chips
you keep behind the chia seeds.
Your toes that press and push and dig
into dirt and earth then sheets at 3
when warm air beckons— take a nap
my eyes are drawn toward your toes
and glide over freckled skin that makes
me scramble after memories,
past parted lips and perfect cheeks
to lurid pools of cerulean
that find us back in bed by noon.
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 5:34 PM UTC
The dead-bolts on the interior doors
Against the nephews most securely locked
(One is destructive; the other explores)
Ignored by their mother (usually crocked)
The brother-in-law babbles about his bowels
And surgeries over the festive spread
Ignoring his wife’s disapproving scowls
Detailing each grim therapy and med
The puppies are safely penned inside
Because of an incident with a crowbar
And a nephew who kicked and screamed and cried -
He wasn’t allowed to **** the dogs or bash the car
His mother comforted him in his tears
And glowered at me for telling him no
And comforted herself with a few more beers
Her special child is sensitive, you know
The brother-in-law’s colonoscopy
With lurid adjectives of graphic doom
Comes with the pie and more iced tea
His miseries circulate around the room
Then from the living room an expensive crash
“Not me!” “Not me!” More screams and denials and cries
An old family vase – it’s now just trash
“You shouldn’t have glass around,” their mother sighs
The brother-in-law offers to show his scars
He finds his shirt buttons, makes his move
We other men escape outside for cigars
Cigars!? The women uniformly disapprove
One nephew leaps upon a garden seat
And jumps and yells until it falls apart
Their mother says her boy is cute and sweet
“Are you all right, my dear little heart?”
The brother-in-law holds his tummy and groans
And tells us all about his flatulence
And just which foods lead to what moans
(Perhaps he should practice some abstinence)
The women come outside to cough and choke
With practiced puritan disapproval and sneers
About the satanic scent of tobacco smoke
The world’s best mother chugs a few more beers
The brother-in-law explains why he can’t drink
It’s about his digestion (be surprised)
And we shouldn’t smoke; if only we’d think
And we (got a match?) are properly chastised
Then at the end of this mandatory day
Of mandatory Hallmark merriment
All of them finally go the (space) away
And how did the mailbox get broken and bent?
But the brother-in-law pauses at the garden gate
“Say, did I tell you about my new pills…?”
And so dear solitude again must wait
While darkness slowly falls upon the hills
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
Lushly lustful exotically ******
Vibrant virile fertile vicissitude
Puissant terminus loquacity photic
Pique piquant poignant pulchritude
Lecherous visceral longevous cohort
Wanton licentious erogenous frolic
Lurid lascivious ****** cavort
***** lewd apomixes anabolic
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 5:54 AM UTC
stuck between pride and ****** mood
lurid lights, laughter, ladies, lively lips
we are 96 souls away from the magic
and we nevah wake up or get up, nope
i swear on my momma's grave and pray
may she rest in peace with good ghosts
wise man told me to wear a black suit
me, tho', forgot if i did so, can't help it
was i trippin from dawn to dusk again
probably but ya gotta triple that time
and consider the weirdness of my speech
dem words stumble other words upon
meanwhile me and milly made luv to luv
luv laid back like rasta villages, jah songs
she's spreading her legs and licking
13.8, worship the fountain, that's basic
gangsta poetess & burglar, membah 108
while meetin milly, i imagine her naked
64 minutes later, lolling on silver satin
the lips such big perfect matches
by the end of the day we float over glaciers
our months vanish within a few days
hihaho, tickling trip, totally toony, truly
milly and tizzy equals eccentric & woozy
steering dreams, mysterious mixtures
golden goblets, served on light tables
we falling into the floor, a voltgreen maze
wondaland's gardens, we reach 'em
frozen loops of yummy yearning, yeeeah
all dem blankets and pillows, hundreds
in a bed spacious like a football field
a quarter of milly's back is my tattoo
parking lot at 4:16 am, 24 k bracelet
gotta look at it under the light of the sun
reminds one of eazy legs & adorable greg
we come, observe, read, blast and leave
stuck with mental blankness, in limbo
block party of creation 96, 2056 souls
oh my, sweaty forehead, i'm so cold
burning bloodshed, beasting bloodbath
marriage of mystery and skyline tales
sparkling are the eyes of yayo vampires
8 days awake, bangin in sky dunes
schmock, dinosaur, sole talker
Jul 26, 2021
Jul 26, 2021 at 6:25 AM UTC
Just like Goddess Kali
I am feared when not
understood
my enemies know my loving passion are my kids
those demons slander me
fearing the mother
goddess in me
I gave life and inadvertedly heartbroken waived it
I give life
birthed my children
against all adds
motherhood apeaces me
injustice enrages my dance
I am Goddess Kali Karijin
~~
Precious daughters
Elena Rose Jeanette fear not
I save I protect I write
it's my frenzied dance
surounded by demons ferocious
you and me won many a
gruesome wars
to protect you three your
children alike my light
I have deamed
Remember Mother Kali
I love you miss you
more and more
and for you my life I lay
~~~.
The goddess mother
(excerpt)
~estranged from kids ~
~~~~~~
"The stars are blotted out,
The clouds are covering clouds,
It is darkness vibrant, sonant.
In the roaring, whirling wind
Are the souls of a million lunatics
Just loose from the prison-house,
Wrenching trees by the roots,
Sweeping all from the path...
The sea has joined the fray,
And swirls up mountain-waves,
To reach the pitchy sky.
The flash of lurid light
Reveals on every side
A thousand,
thousand shades
Of Death begrimed and black."
love & motherhood apeace me.
~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
inspired
by Hindi ink Durga-Kali
Shiva Lord's Wife
revised 06-5-19
~~~~
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 11:27 PM UTC
I'd been trying to write a poem
Just one ******* poem
But he said
*Just **** around*
Swallow down a bowl full of squares
Let’s play games with each other’s minds
Spend a night lost in a house of cards
Where the joker cackles despite your begging
A reminder of what I could do without
Shouting at the world from the white pavilion
You suckers!
With your skirts hitched up and tongues hanging out
Gagging on a lover’s loneliness
All I see is your undergarments crying for attention
With a liquor solace barely down your throat
Eighteen silver blades
Smile at me with their perfect teeth
One to mark each year that past
A nineteenth will not be necessary
Ready to drag
Like the man trailing his head on a string
Across the surgeon’s winking knife
Tapping their toes on the bathroom counter
Anxious to mingle with my flesh
I’ve already scrubbed in
The survival rate looks dismal
The cotton reel loosens and my halo slips
Down - the noose around my neck
He sat across the room in plaid
Remarked upon the crosshatch of red
That drew the crooked red grin on the white of my thigh
Like loops of raspberry liquorice
Seeping out sticky tears
He misses handling the vegetables
Who ordered cocktails in lurid colours
Well, I’ve a mélange of my own
A collection of prescriptions from the doctor’s office
Stored in a heart shaped box
To swallow down like jelly beans
I’m waiting for that deadly sugar rush
Death’s been dancing on my doorstep
Absent minded as I sit at the dinner table
Head in hand, foot in grave
There’ll be no morning migraine
Perhaps a little mourning in the peripheral vision
Swept up from beneath the climbing frame
Under a soil blanket with a tomb stone mattress
Coughing up the sand in my throat
That I emptied from the egg-timer
Those darling quadrilateral crystals
Blissful in their ignorance
Disturbing my quiet complacency
Drowned in a glass of tomato juice
That I poured from my skull
Death holds my hand in the dark
And I whisper to pass on the message
Bury me with pyjama’s and a pillow
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 6:23 AM UTC
TELL TELL TELL
Me about the hell of sin
While I can
SMELL SMELL SMELL
The love-stink of your next of kin
I'll
BURN BURN BURN
My blood is made of gin
It drips down
Sticks to
Stains your chin
Lascivious and lurid is your predator grin
When with vicious curling rictus
You inflict this, you begin
DECIEVER ****** LEADER
My devout Sunday morning tweaker
Set us up in rows of pews
We sit and listen, you spout and spew
Don't presume us to be in virtue weaker
Than you, my fire and brimstone preacher.
Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
Prosperity requires the fortitude to be cruelly decisive and cuttingly deceitful in every conceivable endeavor;
Cruel and unrestrained ambition will lead to life in the lap of luxury;
Duplicity and dishonesty lie with success and supremacy;
The mixture of forceful action with lurid lies results in a beautifully tainted cocktail.
Would you drink...?
Do you believe...?
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC