"maneater" poems
To you my dear,
this song I sing,
to show my hearts desire.
I swirl each line,
as sweet as wine,
until the day I tire.
I sit and wait,
for our first date,
to see if you do love me.
For if you show,
I’ll surely know,
that God is up there smiling.
But if you’re late,
and make me wait,
until the early morning…
I’ll get my gun,
and shoot you down,
and find another darling.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 5:23 PM UTC
Girls just want to have fun
And I'm the hopeless romantic
I wanna dance with somebody who loves me
Sure, she's a
Maneater
And she's still
Holding out for a hero
I don't care
Sweet dreams are made of this
I won't hold back now
I'm so excited
I release the epic
Eye of the tiger
I'll make you scream and
Jump for my love
This truly is
The final countdown
I'll make sure you
Give it up
Just promise me that you'll
Wake me up before you go-go.
Because baby,
Our 80's playlists will have such beautiful children.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
The female temple.
Hollow shell in the minds of men.
An autoclave
for a belly, a copy-and-paste mind
of blasphemies. A page
in man's contradictive bible. Just blondes and brunettes.
Just virgins and non-virgins.
Nothing more than breathing incubators.
I am a person, I have a brain, I say.
They smile at me with a condescending
wink. A nod. Good girl, well done.
They tousle my hair. Well fine, boys.
Watch me climb the ladder with one hand,
backwards, in heels. When I reach the top
I'll ram these six inch Louboutins
straight through your hearts.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
lips open like a
v s
e u
n
fly trap
with fox-face eyes
&
a smiles that
could paralyze
the toughest of men like flies
in a spider's w e b
Multi-armed and covered in
muscle
this goddess hides
her blood red
tongue behind flirtations and butterfly wing
eyelashes
her mating dance and hunting style are on in the
same
"you will fall in love with me, and i will destroy you"
she breathes out like the iron smoke from a dragon's throat as smooth as a lady in** silk**
the souls of a hundred boys form stars and constellations
in the night-sky blanket she wraps herself in
when
nights get too
c
o
l
d and lonely
a hundred hearts rest in her throat
but she swallows them -- and laughs--
and holds my hand on swingsets
she is a goddess of a different sort--
belly swollen with the compliments and awe of a thousand potential lovers
they should make room for her in the heavens
somewhere between Cetus and Vulpecula
but there is no place for her there
because she has already eaten zeus
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 1:36 PM UTC
Old friends sat on their hands
Leaning forward
swinging their feet
like second grade
1313 Primrose Street
The first thing I ever memorized
Except for the hollow fear
of empty footsteps
following me from Texas
The sharks always fascinated me
Charged me with fear
and apprehension
Evil dark black eye of devotion
They were all maneaters
Her skin was sandpaper thin
She made me always bleed
She drank shark's liver oil
and made me always smile
She was a maneater
On a mountaintop
my love came alvalanching down
Even January's cold
was no match for what I was told
Drove back to Birmingham
with the thermostat stuck
But I didn't care
I couldn't be colder
frozen in my forlorn heart of despair
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
Her memories are riddled with holes
from maggots gnawing away
at her already decomposing mind.
Rotting away inside her skull
like teeth soaking in sugar water
and Methamphetamine.
She has a basement filled with flutes
overflowing with year old concoctions
made of emotions and the echoes
of the harpy she once was.
They drip down the sides and pool,
coagulating on the floor like puddles
of dried blood.
Tattered and torn négligées and teddies
are strewn about the bedroom, stained
from the days of lulling men to their deaths,
like a siren on the rocks,
and writing the contract of her own demise
by drowning herself with them.
The lipstick is off.
The eyes of Medusa are closed.
There is no web left to spin.
And as her heart passes back into the abyss
it takes what pieces are left of of it,
an eddy of tiny mirror shards
reflecting the faces of those who once
shown into it and have now faded,
remnants, of its once glorious mosaic.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 4:02 PM UTC
Seduction is the name of her game
A maneater with her claws out ready for the hunt
Sweet as honey but cold as ice
With an agenda on her mind she dresses for the night out
to hunt for her prey
She zero's in on her conquest, strategize,
then proceed with her unstoppable plan
She checks her appearance then goes in for the ****
Her plan is to take him home, drain him and to never see him again
Exchange no names, no numbers
just a friendly encounter
Thats how she likes it
After she's through with him
she dismisses him and goes on to the next hunt
In her eyes men are only there for one thing
After that they are of no use to her
After an encounter with her they are left confused and dazed
Wanting to know more about this seductress
that whirlwind into their lives
She devours them and leave nothing to chance
on a second meeting
QNA
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 7:58 AM UTC
She spreads her legs for any **** with a fat wallet
then ***** with their heads when she’s done.
She sits on her pedestal and feigns character
when she is just a vapid sack of empty atoms.
She’s a maneater through-and-through
and deserves nothing out of life.
She phones you to let you know how she’s doing
and laughs at all your problems and lack of luck.
She flashes her **** and wears skintight trousers
but the ***** in her won’t come out for you.
She’s a maneater through-and-through
and deserves nothing out of life.
She spits venom with the devils in their dresses
then acts all nice when you’re around.
She feigns being a princess who just wants love
but throws your affection back in your face.
She’s a maneater through-and-through
and deserves nothing out of life.
She will wrap you around her littlest finger
then flick you off without hesitation.
She will use your skills to her advantage
then abandon you when they’re not needed.
She’s a ******* ***** through-and-through
and deserves **** all out of life.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 5:34 PM UTC
Tough as nails punk rock scream-wet dream-teen girl.
A real wild child maneater.
LIGHTS! CAMERA! ACTION- Girl.
Small town girl chaos all over the big city- long days and drunk days.
Hazed afternoons on the boardwalk- sublime shirt and a longboard.
Shaved hair and skin tight pants- creepers and two toned ***** dance,
no highschool claptrap dance for our action girl.
She's crazy as the glue she sniffs- she lives on the edge, she built a home on the cliffs.
***** spunky hard as nails, screwloose downtown headcase.
Action all day, action all night- this girl don't back down from a fight.
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 2:44 AM UTC
You are the abyss,
Pulling me in with your undiscovered charm,
Flaunting your mystery,
Your will to disarm,
I know nothing good lurks within,
But it seems so much more than where I’ve been.
wM
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 7:51 AM UTC
one day anxiety will devour me whole and spit me back, shivering and still unsure
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 6:29 PM UTC