"madusa" poems
I look good in this mirror, look closer
It's only because nothing is lit up.
Background black.
Forbidding those to see beneath my scaley skin.
My eyes were meant to be gazed upon,
If for too long, like Madusa said,
Man turns to stone,
But off with her head.
My voice has remnants of sweet birds in the morning,
Or like soundscapes before bed.
Just look beneath me, you'll see
Things are empty.
Nothing but a sad sad piano playing,
Tip toeing in your ear.
Be weary of me.
Stand clear.
Beware of me.
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 1:09 AM UTC
Like the silk and smooth. The joy in your eyes.
Touched by your voice, these moments can never go away.
Badoola madusa I hear her say
Fatbellybella she says it with such ease.
Carefully and gently the touch!
Emotions run wild as she lays Her head down.
Common women they say. Let me show you my ******* *******
I am not afraid or do you want to take it yourself.
I've seen these people.
These women.
These men.
So disfunctional.
Effortlessly you talk the talk.
So sweet.
These women
These men.
So confused!
By the sound of her voice they will change their ways. So calm down they shall see her ways. This strong women she is!
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
My mind is strong, my bodies strong.
I try to find my equilibrium
Is my heads straight, ******* on tight
It's been ******* up for quite some time
I don't want to lean on the wave
I watch the storm evaporate
I think of you in starry skies
I keep you so alive
Let's walk to the fire together
Disappeare in the golden sand
It's all your fault
I see you break
A bleeding love
A silent escape
I have to hold onto myself
Madusa smiles and Judas lips
Open arms and fingertips
Love bites and recompense
I'll be with you to the end
I hang on to myself
Like the sound of winter
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
I always knew I was different , my own breed of human or something else.
Caring for everybody and feeling their pain , knowing their thoughts before spit from their mouth like vinum.
Be it like a curse slithering like the hair of madusa or a blessing like an angel with no wings.
There is but no place my presence exists if in company of another that I have any sense of silence.
Picture this if you will , close your eyes, screams of sadness skorch like the boiler on a hot eye without any water, seeing a vision in your head and wanting to warn someone about something terrible about to happen but the disturbing essence of it is, boxing with God isn't my job so what is there left to do.
Aw let's drift behind the scenes of the world of spiritual beings rounding your head like a yoyo spinning into tangles of ratted up yarn. Needing your mind to tie loose ends or calm their doom of spiritual waste.
The life of an empathy, always making other's lives of peaceful logic and leaving their own stranded like a kidnapped baby in a forest of thorns with no entrance in and no exit out. This is my life
©kimmied1105
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
I know Wat is good
and it's work I have always done,
I have always fought
And i have allways won,
I am still fighting
and I am still winning,
I **** with lightning
And I'm so so willing,
the blending of two energy existences
posioden and madusa,
I am wat the blending is
I am the darkness reducer,
because even the darkness
took a sudden chill,
wene pergiassiuss
walked over the ******* hill,
i love being a child of light
and i love the witch in me,
written by
DAVID LLOYD o.w.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC