"macerated" poems
*
red - her lips tasted of wine and blood and all the pain she felt in her heart. she was driven by wild passion and survived solely on her intensity and strength. each breath she took was like fire; so absolute, so empowered.
orange - her hair was crafted from the bright ashes of a phoenix, kindled with streaks of gold. she always seemed to be her own lick of flame from the embers that burned in her heart to the coals that touched her soul.
yellow - her smile was light at your darkest hour, sunshine after a rainstorm. inspired by everything and nothing at all. she was the sun personified, the epitome of radiance.
green - her eyes were so deep and magnificent and ethereal, while still lit with puerility. she could look at you with those eyes and show you that she cared so passionately for you, no matter your mistakes or your faults.
blue - her skin drowned in an ocean of tears, storm after storm, each wave wracked her body. she trembled with heartrending sobs, each breath heavier than the last. her sorrow painted the depths of her, unseen to those who had not genuinely looked into her eyes.
purple - her organs were stained an ugly shade by the darkness she consumed. her hunger was insatiable. she filled her mouth with poison and swallowed it with a smile on her face. the air traveled from her bruised lungs, through her macerated throat, and out her smiling, stained lips.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
a future promise
a hard on like bundled gym socks
in stuffed blue jeans
a future threat
a shriveled phallus wrinkled obsolete
she remembered fondly
being beaten drum chatter
and seized like slow roasted
fall off the bone pulled pork
****** raggedy Ann
catapulted beyond Euboean heavens
ravaging scrotums Gordian ******
with her wild fiendish mouth
drinking a river of
haloed golden showers
spit and ****
in a runaway hot house of glistening pink
buttery spires
engorging her macerated orifices
half eaten radish
chocking on hordes
of big do do *****
a ****** face; cross eyed
Babylon abalone
bashed Ashly mashed
begging for
a face full of swinging *****
like caped chandeliers
trotting faint giggles
in a constellation
of ruptured arteries
and thick sparked ****
on her knees
milk glitter faced
scared with happiness
she counted one smiling bruise at a time
her badge of calamities
black and blue silhouettes
grinning invitations like party favors
without a crease of shame
her skin rapturous
spackled patchworks
bled like torrential fountains summer tide
while every body had fizzy red ice phlebotomies
and steamed through her drooling tumble pie
lust ***** totem
house of winding labyrinths
honey pumped transfusion
flush on blush
opera of tangled limbs
red pulse wedding flowers
slick ***** palace
blood tongued orchard
caressing knotted mooned
**** spill
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
The tree smells like petrichor in a forest full of lost hope and memories.
The tree tastes like old berries macerated into a thick liquid.
The tree looks like twisted branches reaching desperately towards the sky.
The tree feels like gnarled bark beneath one’s fingers
The tree sounds like a bird which sings no more.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 7:53 PM UTC
This used to be home.
This sweet darkness swallowing you up.
What fearlessness became this strength you claim?
You, who poetry evades.
We danced to the tune of your sorrow,
now sickly tunes of order pollute your mind.
Oh! The dread you did incite!
What choirs did cry!
You.
My rising little sin.
Did you not shudder when I pierced you?
When I drew upon you
tales that memory cannot forsake.
With blood so flowed your words,
creation in it's purest form.
What is your deepest fear?
That I have left you,
or that you are broken?
You are reaching into darkness,
clawing depths to the gears that grind the beauty,
to ignite the chaos you desire.
An unfamiliar beast lies in wait.
You do not know it's name.
The machinery has evolved,
advanced.
Your demons have left Hell
& you.
Abandoned.
You cannot see the God
growing behind your tongue
so build no coffins yet.
Light has macerated misery
but it has spoiled no talent.
You are not dead.
Horror still shapes
the Ragnarok engine of your hands.
A new Devil awaits
to prepare your throne.
If only you will
Rise.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 2:53 PM UTC
When now becomes never
and fists remain clenched
through a heart distance silenced
macerated between fingers
in disconnected chunks of purity
When now becomes never
under the weight
of broken promises
fractured dreams still glimmer
like a sharpened knife in the sun
When now becomes never
days turn decades of disillusion
the tiniest lifeline of hope
slicing through every breath
the cruelest kindness
aspirating the viscous memory of emotion
When now becomes never
the beacon of a smile
fades into the darkness
that always surrounds it
When now becomes never
love lives on behind empty eyes
that hide a soul given
when never was never an option
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 11:41 AM UTC
I wanted to stay,
But I wouldn’t let me
With dawning on the dark,
It lay there fully heaving
With searing conic splinters
Of headlight in its back,
We left it on the road
Tossed in epinephrine,
Guilty of some throttle-rush
We had macerated in the night
Some brood of Nature’s brush
So, I sped to Edgerton
As fast as our time was
You'll say, “He never cared.”
I’m sad I’ve lost your name
No phonebook would amend
I should have just slowed down
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
am i solidly so-so sane
am i slightly in-all insane
a sweet and sour, salty, bitter stanza
anaphora, alliteration, rhyme and meter
spiced-up with macerated metaphors
slant rhymes stirred in a one cup measure
chopped, cut, creamed or cored
i guess i am...
a tablespoon of solidly so-so sane
a teaspoon of slightly in-all insane
a roast with a zest of relished craziness
a marinating mustard mix of uniqueness
i guess i am only simply me
an originally homemade recipe
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
now. I am
enjambed
the tips of my toes radiating
scarlet and plum from
gripping the slowly eroding
precipice upon which
everything balances. Freezer-
burned ice crystallizes
my lungs as I
draw breaths
dredging a lake for
my own body. I am
scales weighing
what I have lost and
what I cannot disgorge from my
over-macerated soul of
olives long-forgotten in
a rancid
brine. I am
enjambed
half-baked and
eager yet
incomplete without
end. I am
Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 2:17 PM UTC
Rescinded feathers of gold,
ostracized from above,
thriving on macerated souls.
exhaling silence...
through obsidian realms,
eternal purgatory,
brimstone corridor facade...
waiting in exile,
darkness interwoven with fear.
life interrupted...death prevails.
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
I felt the cosmos of absinthe in your macerated body, Lilith
I drank your blood and your body
The gloom is our God at the Parisian night
Moan like a real woman, Lilith, moan
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 9:59 PM UTC
Languishing now in the refuse of the struggle,
Laden with corpses, the warriors remain restrained by fatigue
Lurching through the mud, calling out feebly with voices
Long since bellowed to pulpy masses of throat tissue.
Masses of flesh crawling across the fields of strife,
Macerated ground, weak and shifting, struggles to support the
Multitude of half-corpses now in eternal respite upon the bloodied pasture.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
Wake me, o' sun
Bring life to these hollow limbs
I have dreamt only in serenity
To fill vacancies left by nefarious thoughts
Dismiss my trials
Ye holy judge of my lungs
Stagnancy chokes at my breath
As I gasp for my heart's appeal
Make haste, calloused heels
Carry me o'er these fruitless hills
Thirst conquers these feeble bones
As this feral enchantment dissipates
Noon will be o'erhead soon
The heat has grated me into pieces
Fast are thou demons in pursuit
Faster is the hardihood of my will
Thou shadows mount, o' moon
Traipsing to and fro along my path
Free shall I be once the lanterns are lit
Macerated but finally triumphant
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 8:46 PM UTC
I exist in the corners of your lips,
Self-centered, You.
Possessive and hoggish, I.
Your lashes are conceived there, in the cracks.
Your thoughts are just as chapped.
Cheapened, perhaps.
I would still perish to kiss you.
Spill my tacit words into your mouth.
I could taste the restraints weeks ago.
They were loud and young and doltish.
We both sipped them anyway.
A sample of suffering,
For a marked down pact.
Now I am dirt under your fingernails.
Embarrassed by the rust of my tomorrows,
My maybes, my next weeks.
I never even saw your smile, though.
I bet it feels like corrosion.
Then theres you.
You that makes me infirm.
I am afraid of myself, but you arent.
I have grown accustomed to being macerated and **** out.
Your silence speaks in ******* volumes.
Chest sunk into spine.
Lungs inflated into ribs that refuse to budge.
Oxygen thicker than soup.
Throat tight like I wished your hands were around it.
Empty cups know more about my emotions
Than my eyes do.
Jet black strands of hair are assassins.
I was a center piece.
For your antique table.
And you disintegrated before you even finished
Watching me hemorrhage.
I would have loved ******* you.
But I would have loved the sound of you turning in our sheets
Even more.
Maybe I should drink some more, because I am not a p o e t.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 10:29 PM UTC
i've bin wilting in the wings of half life
some kind of tinsel of decay
making chattering bids for attendance but lack and fail
pimpling and then deflating
tiny chasms visit me
chittering little wheezy ******* of creativity spazzing
and then weary organisms spatter on the micro lens
gutted they were shoddily made they're to be examined
(after all that genetics..... what did go wrong ?)
a probing at discussion and decisions
tend now to a humiliating life
then a step up ; a weak and easy one
followed by ambition ! one to lift and give life
reactors in the gut with macerated heavings gunged our way
incisors and incisions rudder me
and together with my nouveau umbrella family
betrayed from our hammocks, hummocks and nooks
we queue on up for 'the things'
in accord with good society
self reprimanded in defeat ?
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 10:04 AM UTC
my mind is muddled mush
scrambled to eggs
from filling up on
mind-numbing affairs
snoozing sedentary sores
and piling up on couch potatoes
eating up seconds
in a Netflix solo party haze
brain over-binging
and melting in the
lack
a
daisical
days
heart restless from resting
and raging from being robbed
walking the dog
to get some "fresh air"
but the road is the same
empty and sad
and if anything
the up down, up down
stop sit go, stop sit go
insensates my thoughts more
until it becomes a
swirling mash of sorrow
and bittersweet bric-a-brac
every article, every email
strikes a match that flickers out
but if it catches a wick,
it erupts, although quick
and anger devours my body
and my brain s c r e a m s
and screeches for escape
each lobe pounding
and punching
my nerves on fire
that dies as fast as it started
and then i'm back
waking to reading to running to dying
oily and oleaginous
all my ponders
pounded back into pulp
my horrible macerated mind
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 11:44 PM UTC
Where you conceal your eyes and heart
When the skies flashed skeletal fingers of red
Within his rights
The bringer of death
Eyes shining
Presented the foreboding of the dark
War mongers
Possess no compassion for the universal man
And its only the foolish they entreat
Denying all responsibility for the innocent children
Who lay silent
Cold macerated dolls
In burning fragmented buildings
And heaving shattered stone streets
Races of humans decimated
Destroyed without a single thought
Indifferent they turned from their echoing cries
May god **** these pitiful representations of man
Whose veins are infected with greed
And whose lips speak treacherous lies.
Come from behind the walls of blood cowards
Trembling in fear of ghosts that were sacrificed for purse
Still you count your mountains of gold
For it is they who are insistent
And will brook no refusal
To whom you must atone.
@ Tammy M Darby Nov. 22, 2018
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC