"necrosis" poems
Coagulated blood dried out from the sun, footprints pressed into the mud from a night on the run, chased and ravaged, pressed against a tree with emotions gutted.
Mutilated and dying, I'm laying under falling stars, saturated skies and underlying scars, every conversation with you feels like being run over by a highway full of cars.
Blood screaming from a cautourised wound travels farther than your ability to listen to reason, wide eyed, your pasteurized white eyes seem cold but searing like the flesh of a steaming heathen.
Necrosis sets in on the heaping pile of me drudged upon the roots of my personification, watch the black blood slipping through the dirt like molasses as it climbs over your teeth and grips the lips before it passes, blood loss is creating a hallucination.
Watch as I become hollow from your cannibalistic lifestyle. Your desperation, human flesh you defiled, mindless separation, our family's bodies stuffed in a corner and piled, you became a Wendigo, a wicked transmorgification.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
Breeze bellows,
leaves echo in
quivering psithurism,
dithering like
unbroken smoke,
this approaching omen goads.
Dozing crows
slumbering in rows,
droves of locusts'
silenced drone,
almost comatose in repose;
nighttime overtones
choir of toads'
raspy croaks
answered by alto
of crickets' orchestral strokes.
Gust encroaches;
robed boughs
cloven open,
bring into
scope and focus
me juxtaposed,
suspended apropos.
Although motionless
and petrified in stone,
provoked by zephyr
coaxing to and fro;
swaying pendulous
and no longer frozen,
locus gently thrown.
Death rattle moan
evoked from throat,
reflex can't say no
to rigor rigidly posed,
final sigh in silence,
awoken vocal,
expelled and disposed.
Smote by
morose emotion,
gun loaded then exploded
by neurosis,
now bloated
necrosis decomposes
into gross ochre.
This trophy
and this ode
both an opus to
my inability to cope;
romanced i proposed,
eloped and betrothed to
my own
inappropriate composure.
Pocket full of posies
plucked when luck bestowed
and tears in a cup, a toast;
crying copiously,
tempest runneth overflowed,
eyes swollen and soaked.
Dipped my toes
in the coast
of this ocean's
amorphous folds,
gripped by undertow
holding control of my soul;
swiftly shipwrecked in
shallow shoal,
an old atoll.
On sandy floor,
water burrows roads;
digging, carving, roams
through unmarrowed
silica and sandstone
eroding into a cove.
A host for
opal geode trove,
enclosing a
technicolor rose,
from the depths
a glowing mosaic shone
Unopened lotus floats
on foam
of lapping waves,
a boat;
prone to no
grandiose notion
or motive,
adrift as wind stokes.
I suppose
this only shows
the total corrosion
into which I dove,
the only foes to oppose
are those of burdens, so
only weightless can I atone-
I must let go.
Mar 11, 2024
Mar 11, 2024 at 11:02 AM UTC
let's make a deal.
uncap the bottle,
discover my greatest work-
a soliloquy on sentience,
performed to an empty room.
the walls
are bleeding lead poisoning again
and i
am leaving logic behind.
the air is crisp on my wretched skin
and as the world dies
its aching breath helps me
to finally feel alive.
i am pure white.
let me rise, enlightened.
as i float, breathless,
i can feel, finally,
the weight of my bones.
make me into a sparrow,
feast upon my marrow,
so i can become porous-
but leave my hollow mind whole.
idolize me.
spin my disease into pure beauty.
a stone-cold rose
grounds the coffin for my dreams,
liberating me from responsibility.
awaken me.
strip my heavy corpse of its wings,
eviscerate the breath from my lungs
cease my tangibility
oh glory,
build me up
strip me down
to my knuckles and teeth,
to the weathered bone.
remove the bloodstains from my home.
if i bleed now
it will be beautiful
when i fall, i
will glorify the cement, decorate it
with my shining insides
when i come down
it will be stunning
it will be dreadful
and i will be resplendent
-but the delivery
won't change the content
candy wrapping
can't cover up the stench of death-
i have given up
on purging the necrosis from my tissue
i have found
this tantalizing muse once again, and
once more i
will let her put cigarettes out
on my sorry skin.
i've grown to love the smell,
that acrid poison
it almost covers up the scars
she leaves-
if i can make dying sound beautiful
then to hell
with us all
if you could romanticise suicide
you'd be rotting
too
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
Far, up high,
An idol's cry,
Her shining tears,
Sprinkle the sky,
Infinity's tomb,
Brings cosmos bloom,
Bringing life,
And starlight's doom,—
—Shining through, Celestia weeps.
Painting warily,
Creating merrily,
Braiding hues,
Working wearily,
While painting shells,
Her eyes still swell,
Her canvas, sprinkled,
As shining tears fell,—
—Shining through, Celestia weeps.
Gaze shifting upon her opus,
To the Terra, formed with focus,
As she peers, she fails to notice,
Her heart's expire, soft necrosis,
Yet again, a grieving seep,
Striking hard, striking deep,
Off again, her focus turns,
Her mind taking a blinded leap,—
—Shining through, Celestia weeps.
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 12:58 PM UTC
"Wish in one hand and **** in the other."
Your disappointments leave me smothered!
Wake up tomorrow - why even bother?!
I'm just a drunk like my ******* father!
You say there's hope, but it's a ghost
A dream you wish to see at the most
I guess you can call me, "Skeptic"
Not paranoid - just ******* sick
Hell on Earth seems to be dawning quick!
Just a simple wish upon a star
You're abuse has gone too far
I'll just sleep off all the scars
Another shot of whiskey in my glass
Getting tipsy before I kick your ***
I just need to calm myself at long last
My dreams are filled with too many images of you
You're the past and I know that we're through
I guess all these demons will just have to do
Keep coming back, because I'm a ***** for more
I must be a ********* at the ******* core
Ptolemy - what's wrong with our souls?!
We look past the stars to gaze at black holes!
I don't believe and I can never be deceived,
for this paranoia permits no bit of reprieve
I guess everything is just as it seems -
idealized, and finalized - know what I mean?!
I know returning to you will only cause me pain
I'm no Queen but you're the King that reigns
As a lowly peasant, I know I must refrain
But there is just something that draws me to you
The stars have predicted the truth
And I know there's nothing I can do
You've moved on, I keep thinking about the past
I know the heartache cannot be surpassed
I'm just sorry that I ever asked
For my final ******* act the stage has just been set:
Dead man walking, but I don't have one regret
Is it the psychosis in my brain
or the necrosis in my veins?
Either ******* way, I've never been more sane
Head on to heartbreak - let romantics rot
Pardon this dead cat, but out of everything I've taught,
why was reciprocity the one you forgot?
If there's a cure for bad blood, you can keep it
Your shit's been sewn so now it's time to reap it
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
I find questions to the answers damning;
They quote the darkest volumes,
And speak in whispered tones
That haunt my mind with lemmings.
Thrilling chills reverberate
Throughout my spine, intoxicating
The superfluous influx of aeon.
In Elysium I await.
Forgotten songbirds’ melodies
Are ripe within their own stages,
However, the message behind their incantations,
Mocks the frigid winds of change.
Apologetic reverences deny the peaceful hum
Of every ***** and flute of desire
And of all the lyres to be strummed.
Stumbling upon a corpse of old,
Necrosis doth eat away,
Putridity and phobia have at last been lead astray,
Maggots upon maggots, an **** of disease,
Now struggle for control here,
In the epitome of our dying age.
The eyes that once saw hope,
And the heart that once felt love,
Our absentee in place of rot,
And are swapped with rustic carrion.
The dismal breeze that flow
Swiftly under the crest of raven-wing,
Solidify bones as well as the toxins that
Cryptically burn and sting.
A creation of mass panic, euphoria
Are bound to allow riot’s treason,
A repentance of nostalgia
For uncountable reasons.
Alas, we have but come close enough to success,
To amount in a drowning of failure,
To kiss the shores of dreams come true,
And to be denied of those dreams’ savior.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
By the end of this poem, those once vibrant
shall slough off in horizons of necrosis.
As I tap out completion,
their summer cedes to countless performances;
actors bow before the closing curtain of Autumn.
The maelstrom of summer-lovers lulls to a murmur
And the great Mevlana’s couplets and Khayyam’s quatrains
Float away on the formations of down-bound geese.
You’ll hear the Doppler shift of devotion’s goodbye
On the whines of the locomotive’s whistle.
By the end of this poem, the thistle fades
from heliotrope to gun metal gray.
The clandestine scent of “once-whens”
Wafts into a future of “now-agains.”
Yet, this new Fall is bittersweet.
Before another ********** of trees,
a red rose blushes in reminiscence.
By this poems end, I’ll be in love
with the chill of an approaching season
wearing the brightest flower in my garden of poetry
One last choke on the rising smoke
as the last painful stanza goes
Into the solemn procession
toward the sacred pyre of leaves.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
let's not make this mercy killing into a tragedy
if you mourn, i'll recover my grip on reality
realize what i've done
and i can't handle that responsibility
i accepted my fate the first time i lost my mind
knew i'd forever be stuck outside my head
fought for a few years more,
but now i'm done with this
i will fall like the primaveral rain,
soak the earth with my brittle rotting bones
let the flesh decompose
ease my mind, cleanse my soul
tangled up in vacillation
mania-white staining indigo perceptions
the future never seemed so trivial
(who said i couldn't live like this)
wide-eyed, selectively hypersensitive
i'm ignoring what lies ahead
i don't want to think about it
i'm destroying what little chance i had left
precipitation replacing perspiration,
erasing perspective,
drowning out my voice of reason
just let me breathe
cause i'm so sick of responsibility
this is just the cycle of life
perspective's leeching the necrosis
from my bones
i will be reborn as a lesser being
so for now just let me
pretend that the flames are home.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
Ugly and repulsive
nek twisted backwards
facing forward
my path twisted
raining sulphuric acid
looking up
eyes and mouth wide open
I'm thirsty..
taken drugs
crack, **** krokodile
the rain biting through my bones
necrosis from the drugs have made their way home.
tongue kissed a komodo dragon
wearing a boa constrictor for a scarf
parasites eating away at my innards
so I don't have to ****
and Imma just go on
floor made purely out of bullet ants
keep walking this path of insanity
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
I gave you my heart
(I love you - I said)
You put it in a freezer
"I may or may not need, it depends" - you said
♥♥♥♥♥♥
"okay"
(I love you - I said)
but things worked out with HIM
♥♥♥♥
You gave me my heart back
*"Unlike Han Solo...
I don't think it survived
the freezing process - sorry"* - you said
♥♥♥
"okay"
(I love you - I said)
♥♥
My heart actually did survive
but it barely beats now
- full of ice damage -
necrosis
"♥"
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 4:18 AM UTC
Fire
There's no hiding from pain
you're due. Your worst mistake to this day has been running
Pockets raining change and names
I watched you running
Fire
Open the wound ignored,
you knew would mend but ran just before salvation. Me?
I
Watched you running
I
Could only watch you run away
Little means anything anymore, now that it's known that you're doing well
Caught in the frame you left me inside, I rest now with gravestones
And in smoke
Imagination sets in as rain washes away soft spoken days we never wrote
Cold
To rectify mistakes
You said, "Your medicine's the same thing I've been taking."
Offered ears that I once gave
I gave up taking
Cold
Burns just as badly
when left to freeze instead of thawing, kept within wings
I
Gave up taking
I
Played it off, silently screaming
Never mind an antidote
Wild necrosis covers
what's left of trees
leaving black bones to tainted earth
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC
fue tan rápido como un flechazo
lo repentino, que todo se lleva
como las llamas afiladas
que consumen la casa negra
sangre recorriendo
piel de ébano
caballo *****
en putrefacción
el enamorarme de ti
fue solo el comienzo de mi necrosis.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
It's more than broken,
my destroyed vessel.
I fear that it may never again
run with efficiency.
Decay plays upon the shell,
death emits a smell,
a rotten hell of necrosis.
For this, my friend,
is my penance.
My payment for thankless disobedience.
A sense of burnt offerings
never offered.
Nov 3, 2011
Nov 3, 2011 at 2:33 PM UTC
i left her on the side of the road near the rookery in southern indiana. her body was still warm, not as warm as the time she told me she wished she had a thousand teeth but not yet as cold as the time she grew them all at once and stuck them in me. she taught me many things, like how to forget and how to see through the cataracts and necrosis. she kissed my face and told me i was beautiful and boiled me in a metal bin inside the barn and watched as my skin separated from my bones as easily as slicing butter. she assured me i looked prettier this way, all bones and flaying meat and a thousand little exposed teeth i had no idea were in me.
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 2:03 AM UTC
*it's a dead, obviously, working from per se, i only used prae to be near per, i could have used foris, or even ante, but given the dictionary and the necrosis of the Latin tongue per se as in: per - by rather than in - and se - himself rather than itself, you can imagine the complications of coining a phrase for the antidote of in-itself, i.e. outside-itself.*
revision of Enya: **** away **** away,
against the wind against the wind;
mash up... brrrrapt big up big up east end
Loud Don... bonkers bunch...
now that is random,
i wanted to make a serious point,
and i will (insert snigger)... eventually.
what i wanted to communicate was the revenge of
von Kleist against Kant...
Kant is the enemy of poetry we're led to believe,
i can imagine, only Heidegger took Holderlin seriously
and lectured on his poetry,
von Kleist committed suicide out of despair
having read Kant's critique...
but what i want to do:
to take each poetic technique out of poetry, and
then use each technique to describe it's origin...
so for example metaphor... given that poetry is
ensō (one smooth stroke) - ever watched the t.v.
series Wolf Hall? it's about the dealings of Thomas
Cromwell, all matters of intrigue, Henry the VIII,
and Anne Boleyn... so the metaphor describing
poetry... at the end of Wolf Hall
Anne Boleyn is about to be decapitated, because
she ****** like Catherine the Great (although i'm
sure the myth about the horse by polish / lithuanian
conspirators isn't true... or applicable to Anne)
and that offended the king...
so on the scaffold, there's the swordsman (using a sword
was a clean affair, axes were brutal, imagine hacking
at stump of wood, or like Longinus Podbipięta,
who with a Teutonic sword cut three Turk
heads in one go, so Longinus Podbipięta vouched
to a lady his chastity that he'd bed her if he also
cut three Ottoman heads in one go ref. Sienkiewicz
with fire and sword - the sword
that cut ****** Mary's head was, blunt)...
so there's this scene in Wolf Hall, ah man, the swordsman
is classy, Thomas Cromwell asks him, 'will it be a clean
death?', 'only if she doesn't move',
so on the scaffold, he takes his shoes off, speaks into her right
ear as if she's expecting the swing to come from there
and then with great stealth moves in the other
direction and cuts her head off from the left...
so i guess poetry is a metaphor of that, an ensō,
an evolution from haiku: one smooth stroke and you're done:
nothing airy fairy, like you need to sigh...
no... you need to drop the anchor:
poetry prae se, as described by metaphor.
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 9:24 AM UTC
Lip Dip Paint
One Two
Lip Dip Pain
Three Four
Lip Dip Pai
Five Six
Lip Dip Pa
Seven Eight
Lip Dip P
Nine Ten
Lip Di
Eleven Twelve
Necrosis of the teeth
the bone becomes brittle
limping with sore feet
the jaw shatters
sores line the throat
mouth only of gums
blood starts to flow
only holes left to tongue
red seeps out the mouth
doctors say this must be syphilis
Oh God, it hurts
to work for greed so villainous
Lip D
One Two
Lip
Three Four
Li
Five Six
L
Seven Eight
Nine Ten
Another girl in the ground again
Eleven Twelve
It's safe, don't you want to
radiate?
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 1:36 PM UTC
Ill tempered she spews a trail of scorching flames
Dancing upon my flesh to the bittersweet tune of revenge
Streaks of treacherous agony hinder the walls of my arteries
Rupturing my veins with ghastly lullabies of a tasteless quality
A screeching echo of necrosis reverberates off my bones
Searing through the various networks of my cerebellum
Eating away at every layer of tissue with fierce vehemence
Bashing against my skull in a series of catastrophic head quakes
Until my ears cry waterfalls of scarlet tragedies from my eardrums
No level of mercy could shun the wages of sin that my body has partaken
The icy, cold kiss of the razor, sharp teeth piercing my neck belonged to
None other than the mysterious, velvet dragon herself wanting nothing more
Than to humiliate and slay me with a passion so lethal it could crack hearts
What I did to become a helpless victim to this horrendous act of ignorance
I have but not one clue but I accept my death with great bravery and honor
Oct 10, 2011
Oct 10, 2011 at 4:41 AM UTC
Don't let me go
O Capitan of the starship Viscera.
You have yet to see me
devolve into a pink salamander!
You have yet to see me
fall to my knees and beg for faith.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
...and when I finally showed up
and went into my mother's last room in the ICU
as the fluids were still clotting in their tubing
and the machinery of life was silent,
the necrosis lingered.
Her knitting was sitting to one side
with many loose ends
unresolved.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 7:19 AM UTC
Leathery skin
furling by
the hides
of ideas,
to impart
the coyest
We are searching for dismantled cameras
with the flashy leitmotif disabled
in a disbanded cinema
And in the dark you ovulated, murdered
under the thickness of rough tree bark
Haul trunks of
a honky-tonk
dismembering
remembrances
rows of seating
Squalling, beautiful voices
throaty, tonefully sinking
in tune with imaginary keys
located in grey, clinking
between stained ivory tiers
and scuffed ebony branches
rending the reddest of heart-drawls
then plucking each riveted contour
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Most species of rattlesnakes control
just how much venom
they release into their prey.
The hemotoxin destroys tissue,
clots blood and sometimes
causes a severe paralysis.
A necrosis:
a caused premature death
in its victims.
Now, as far as monsters go.
The rattlesnake is one that scares me
less than the ones I've seen of late.
The rattlesnake offers its victims a chance to run.
Before the venom is released.
Before the deadly bite.
Before the pain
and the paralysis.
There is a rattle.
Tss - tss - tss
A warning for the victim
tss - tss - tss
to run.
The monsters I've seen of late,
they have a rattle, too.
But it serves a different purpose.
tss - tss - tss
It serves to reel, meant
to draw their victim in.
tss - tss - tss
A drum beat.
A dance, a club.
Bodies meet.
tss - tss - tss
A forked tongue, and a flash.
The venom consumed:
uncontrolled.
And still
tss - tss - tss
The rattle goes on.
The victim sees no danger.
Rather comfort in a monster's smile.
The deadly bite,
it happens next.
And the necrosis,
the premature death,
begins to take hold.
A darkness consumes the conscious.
A paralysis takes to the body and mind.
The victim no longer has control.
No longer herself.
Fear, now is only of the monster --
no longer that of
snakes and clowns.
And nightmares make what memory exists replay.
tss - tss - tss
The darkness consumes again and finally.
And the rattle continues.
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
There’s death in my heart
It doesn’t beat
Can’t feel a thing
Icy... necrotic...
I feel like I’m fading
Falling
From reality
From life
From grace
And if I’m really lucky
I’ll talk myself into it
And I’ll get to see it
On my wrist
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
Threads bare
A seamstress at wits end
The paradigm of paradise will never cease to feign sense
A thrall to ecstasy and shattered dreams
The lovechild depleted
Cold souls and broken homes could never hope to feed it
Faith spent the rest of her days in the arms of hatred
And she stays spent
The vagrant found hearth in the hollow of her heart
His collapse was seen in the lakes and the stars
The wrinkles in heaven have played their part
Rewarded with the induction of necrosis and dark arts
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
There’s a new sort of current that runs through his body,
an electric sort of freedom freshly granted, just weeks ago.
Once, he wrapped up the neurosis, folding with great care.
Firmly closed the heavy parcel & then bidding farewell,
he exhaled the parasitic cancers that only ever sought
to eat him alive & made such honest efforts to survive.
quite ironic: that necrosis dying upon a funeral pyre
& then he cut his hair & never felt lighter
Like he could fly
& he did.
(high above the ceremonial smoke)
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 6:17 AM UTC
I had a dream last night
Of being pursued by a murderer
A homicidal man, whom I'd seen ****
Again and again, with merciless vulgarity
And who hunted me like prey.
But as I fled him, he knew my habits
He foresaw my strategy to escape
He discovered me.
And in the raw terror of that exposure
Scrambling before him, in the dirt
At the height of my adrenaline
I came to a jolting, sick realization
That I was enraptured by him
And all his poison
His carnivorous mania, and blood-drenched agenda
And I felt the Hunger in his approach
And simply waited there, suspended
In that loathsome state of horrified ardency
For him to Consume me.
And it was not in the frenzied seizure of awakening
But only after a lengthy absorption, when I noticed
That I called it a dream, rather than a nightmare.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 4:37 AM UTC