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"nashing" poems
Aye think o this When winter breezes blaws aroun' whare silent thochts are filled wae gloom and drifting words,they echo past frae fearful man an fearful lass In haunted hooses and misty lans whare Ghosties an gobblins an unco bans Pass atween this an theirs, that form amidst tha thunders crashing storm. Aye tucked up aroun yeer mithers apron wae teeth a nashing an voices wailing Fine ye ken this unhaly nicht tis filled wae all unGodly licht Craw tha Banshee frae tha Ben like howlet song throughoot tha Glen. Satan, Auld horney casts his lots for innocent bairnies fresh frae their cots An' ancient stories there arise an fly Like shooting stars that fill tha sky for here in tales tha croonies dae rattle in haunting airs and fiendish battle leagons arise tae tha masters calling This nicht hell awakens, aahhh tha heevens are falling. Here in blackened darkened skies whare lichtning flashes weaves an cries An mortal man fears fa his soul against that heelish burning coal Ministers intae their beds are fleeing wae ranting verses fa all their Dealing. Whare auld worn hags an witches cast upon tha waters that blaw an blast drooning mony tha ship an sailor all fa tha glory O their Demonic tailor when cauldrens stir in bubbling brews An damnation demands its richtful dues tha lan' it heaves and haws devouring all within its jaws A Blood red Moon casts her lot whare evil men have Died an fought tha Earth auld an worn frae tribulation demands the blood of every nation. Here within the fields o life brither against brither in war an strife hae released all this fiendish nightmare fa all their guilt,fa all they share Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 8:05 AM UTC
Tales -Scots Doric
Aye think o this When winter breezes blaws aroun' whare silent thochts are filled wae gloom and drifting words,they echo past frae fearful man an fearful lass In haunted hooses and misty lans whare Ghosties an gobblins an unco bans Pass atween this an theirs, that form amidst tha thunders crashing storm. Aye tucked up aroun yeer mithers apron wae teeth a nashing an voices wailing Fine ye ken this unhaly nicht tis filled wae all unGodly licht Craw tha Banshee frae tha Ben like howlet song throughoot tha Glen. Satan, Auld horney casts his lots for innocent bairnies fresh frae their cots An' ancient stories there arise an fly Like shooting stars that fill tha sky for here in tales tha croonies dae rattle in haunting airs and fiendish battle leagons arise tae tha masters calling This nicht hell awakens, aahhh tha heevens are falling. Here in blackened darkened skies whare lichtning flashes weaves an cries An mortal man fears fa his soul against that heelish burning coal Ministers intae their beds are fleeing wae ranting verses fa all their Dealing. Whare auld worn hags an witches cast upon tha waters that blaw an blast drooning mony tha ship an sailor all fa tha glory O their Demonic tailor when cauldrens stir in bubbling brews An damnation demands its richtful dues tha lan' it heaves and haws devouring all within its jaws A Blood red Moon casts her lot whare evil men have Died an fought tha Earth auld an worn frae tribulation demands the blood of every nation. Here within the fields o life brither against brither in war an strife hae released all this fiendish nightmare fa all their guilt,fa all they share Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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46
I wanna rip this beating heart out. I wanna throw it to the wolves. I wanna feel there nashing teeth on splintered human veins. I wanna see you melt the darkness that has eatin into my brain. I wanna see you be a trickster and slice these putred sayings, these words that i live by, that open up my mind to wonders that can see through all the screaming bleeding cries. The screams of people dying, being murdered in the streets. The cries of all the children that are weeping at my feet. I wanna see your face twist in crooked agony at the sight of all these horrors laying dormant in your dreams…..
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Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 8:30 PM UTC
Bring Me The Sleeping Wolves
The story of a child cursed and abused... Simply because the demons amused Nashing and burning his selfish way there. Penetrating tears without the slightest care She begs and she pleads. While he laughs so insane. A heart simply stone and for that he remains. But he will get his in the depths of a cell Tormented and rotting in his own personal hell. May his two *** burn with delight... While maggots feast between his legs... Let him bleed with all might. Maybe he is the accident, maybe he doesn't belong. Maybe he is a ***** perhaps I could be wrong. Poor old mother ****** He loves to see her cry. He screams and shouts as loud as he can. God I wish he'd die. She is so fragile, her past she can not change. But she continues to live in torment because the demons turned insane. He loves to hear her stories. The anger lets him live. While he steals away her liveliness. Until there is nothing left to give. Give me a Four foot blade so I may stick it up his *** Rip out all his organs, his rapture shall not last. I'll place leaches on his ***** and rip out all the veins. I'll make that ******* so regret the day he ever came! I will rip out all his ***** hair, one by one you see. Just to watch him squirm and bow down before great me! I'll put needles in his pupils and tell him he will die. But not for two more weeks, I want to watch him cry All her tears, all her pain these hands can not cure. But his death and this poem are sacrificed for HER! Amber O. My sister wrote this for me............
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May 27, 2010
May 27, 2010 at 2:39 PM UTC
Her
The story of a child cursed and abused... Simply because the demons amused Nashing and burning his selfish way there. Penetrating tears without the slightest care She begs and she pleads. While he laughs so insane. A heart simply stone and for that he remains. But he will get his in the depths of a cell Tormented and rotting in his own personal hell. May his two *** burn with delight... While maggots feast between his legs... Let him bleed with all might. Maybe he is the accident, maybe he doesn't belong. Maybe he is a ***** perhaps I could be wrong. Poor old mother ****** He loves to see her cry. He screams and shouts as loud as he can. God I wish he'd die. She is so fragile, her past she can not change. But she continues to live in torment because the demons turned insane. He loves to hear her stories. The anger lets him live. While he steals away her liveliness. Until there is nothing left to give. Give me a Four foot blade so I may stick it up his *** Rip out all his organs, his rapture shall not last. I'll place leaches on his ***** and rip out all the veins. I'll make that ******* so regret the day he ever came! I will rip out all his ***** hair, one by one you see. Just to watch him squirm and bow down before great me! I'll put needles in his pupils and tell him he will die. But not for two more weeks, I want to watch him cry All her tears, all her pain these hands can not cure. But his death and this poem are sacrificed for HER! Amber O. My sister wrote this for me............
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36
you tossed your answer at me cool and casually. even the way you tell me no invokes images of god blessing me. singling me out among the rats nashing their teeth. I adore your voice It is a song for my soul.
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Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
i cant wait for the new flavor of love season to start!
Crusading for love to understand being leaving the lens no vision for seeing momentary glances keep the spirit alive with vexations abound they tear at my soul Nashing and clawing As i stand at this yawning Will i jump in will i submit Crashing around me in this sulphur pit Aghast it stops the rational clicks that clear inner voice turning dark into light vexations and demons they leave with great flight I had known all along i was up for this fight x
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
Defective abonination
Crusading for love to understand being leaving the lens no vision for seeing momentary glances keep the spirit alive with vexations abound they tear at my soul Nashing and clawing As i stand at this yawning Will i jump in will i submit Crashing around me in this sulphur pit Aghast it stops the rational clicks that clear inner voice turning dark into light vexations and demons they leave with great flight I had known all along i was up for this fight x
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
Untitled
Afloat upon the greatest pond I do drift my hands And let the ripples play The sigh of waves resting upon the grainy beach Echoes in the meadow woods And time ceases for a day But on that lake's surface I am unaware Of ripples found beneath My lovely little pond The fearsome jaws, the fearsome muscles Of mechanical nature Below abounds And ripping currents With heavy traffic Bide their time below But I float above the nashing teeth And water rivers too Drifting slowly on the pond's surface Above the torrent below
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Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 9:14 PM UTC
Surface Water
Cover me in the black sheet. Flood me with taunts of the stars Let them shoot at me. I'll take a nova right to the chest, Absorb its dying breath A bursting beautiful chaotic mess. Stardust, its existence, now ash. I don't know why it gets harder at night My chemicals collide, they kiss all night, but their love is my fight and I can't **** them every time because it is so passionate like Romeo and Juliet, young and dumb, they'll sacrifice me so their love can live on. Why am I the vessel of the lonely panging flesh. Inhaling sharply taking wounds from someone else with each breath. But I'm unaware of all the gaping holes in me because I'm a werewolf and by morning i have no recollection of bleeding. But the holes are starved at night and they seep through my clothes soaking my mind. I lie in pools of letting my insides roam but every day I swear that this will no longer be my home. From the belly of the beast I'm now at it's nashing teeth, it swallowed me once but after walking through guts I've finally reached an opportunity, but the PM comes and the black ***** me back down the esophagus i have fought and fought leaving red scratches down it as my fingers claw. I thought maybe if I loved enough it would ***** me up. Maybe if I was content I'd be able to call this games bluff. But the black sheet comes for me and I can hear the crickets sing and when the dawn comes I'll be out again but the sheet of night will come and take me right back in.
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May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 1:46 AM UTC
Dark Blanket
jaw jaw jaw   nashing teeth wiggling worm inflamed tonsils sore throat
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May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 2:18 PM UTC
chatter cacophony
I remember you came home wasted on that cold November day making sure that I would pay because I would not kneel at your feet No, I would not obey... You made it clear with your threats that I would pay in someway Yeah, with your nashing teeth that I'd obey or, you'd be sure to throw me out on the street.. with my daughter at my feet... we ran out that night in the cold Yeah, we jumped out the window with my phone and, here we are down the road I'm still not doing what I've been told You're keeping your promise you made to me hell bent on making me see... that you are right... just for the record you terrified us that night the conclusion/ and it is this... that all along.. you think that you're always gonna be right n' I will always be the one .. that's gonna be wrong.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
That Cold November Day by, Krisselle S. Cosgrove