"perversity" poems
When man,
enters woman,
like the surf biting the shore,
again and again,
and the woman opens her mouth with pleasure
and her teeth gleam
like the alphabet,
Logos appears milking a star,
and the man
inside of woman
ties a knot
so that they will
never again be separate
and the woman
climbs into a flower
and swallows its stem
and Logos appears
and unleashes their rivers.
This man,
this woman
with their double hunger,
have tried to reach through
the curtain of God
and briefly they have,
through God
in His perversity
unties the knot.
17.1k
The handcuff bites my wrist
as teeth sink, searing flesh.
A breath, a scent too familiar to forget.
Blind.
Massive palms, razor point
carving canyons down my spine,
blood is the wine.
The burn of beard
feigning consent.
Fistfuls of hair conquering words.
A corpse to rob me of life,
the press of perversity against satin.
Fighting, writhing
satisfaction.
Pain swells in every limb
the wet swell reveal my sin.
Slaps stinging awake
every fiber of clothing still keeping me safe.
The drive of possession
splitting secrets wide,
fingers around throat clenching tight.
Sweat running red,
the rising growls growls resonate in my head.
The raw force bruising
like claiming a slave,
body & mind consuming.
Ferocity leads to frenzy,
my senses rage against me,
The thickness rips,
devours,
conquers my body for paradise.
And I scream in the ecstasy taken.
A clenching incites eruptions,
the pulsing beast flooding.
My purpose awakened.
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
for Karlotti
~
And a flower on the borders of winter.
an unseasoned sign that the singular erupting bud
will lend the lens to see, give the courage to accept
the greatest joy of man will ever be
anticipation
there will be seasons that the singular erupting bud,
be the bitterest truth nail gunned into your temple,
the perversity of a mockery, an uncrossable boundary
a flowering sign of skull & bones meant to teach acceptance
the greatest curse of man will be
the changing seasons
*La mayor maldición del hombre,
Las estaciones cambiantes*
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Serenity...
in what was
never "normal"
as normal is a perverse word in "society"
serene perversity is the status quo,
just a serene way of looking at
things with a ****** up face.
It's reality,
not normality.
http://www.robross.ca
Nov 23, 2009
Nov 23, 2009 at 12:05 PM UTC
streams of salt and H2O leak
down reddened cheeks and condense
in a golden beard. a war-torn nation,
half-a-world-away, crystallizes clear as dayspring
in an insomniac's screaming and fragile psyche
at half-past-three in the morning.
what strength must a seven-year-old posses
to persevere amidst the perversity of cluster bombs?
munitions bought and paid for with the taxes
we fork over to the United States. will her blood one day
stain our hands with crimson? will her mother's?
a girl who just wanted to read, to escape
the tragedy that inundates our surroundings,
to a magical realm of pure imagination.
where we can summon spectral stags
to save us from the misery of humanity
and learn to disarm those who would harm
us with the charm, Expelliarmus!
the bastion where i found the first seeds that grew
into a rebellion opens its doors to you, Bana.
there's a crater where your house used to be,
rubble strewn in Aleppo, Syria. but know that Hogwarts
will always be there to welcome you home.
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 4:05 AM UTC
Inside your little mouth, a crucifix and a hula hoop plant great capers on the short hash marks on your glossy pinkish lips. Like a boardgame I can't win all by myself or a song without a tune, like the melody that chases strangers, or any words that precede goodbye.
The future is coming quickly now, serfs lining up to set fire to their nostrils, take the cue ball and whet their mass wicks for the apostles. Anecdotal anomaly that J-walk over crosswalks whose life then becomes an apostrophe. Morbid fixture on the substrate, creatures limitlessly nodding. A grape-sized egg fills its own unit and erupts to shape the outlet. Your verb-legs may appear demonstratively while you crowd surf, we should play the music louder while we practice all our dance work.
Sunday morning we wake up stiffly, my jowl hurts from mouthing softwords, the nights' adventurous perversity of thwarting dinosaurs with Cobra Starship. Even the back room closet manager gave us enough bleach to see our eyelids, frothy nictitating flitters drop freshly severed lashes that inspire wishes and sultry playlists.
Consecrated mien market of company meals. Underneath the cable cars the dye blunders sores in my eyes. Said I had to go, said I had to die. Said I had an itch but I couldn't get in front of all of this and unwind. Between all of the bees and buttered flies he made it hard for us all to survive, or service this state of our lives. I recall schoolyards where children paid to their dimes for us to see the spaces in the middle of lines, the circles on the circles we liked, stuck in bubble baths with crayon all on their hands. For the price of staying alive I deliver a bribe to sway eyes from the crimes of street dwelling inner-city sinners with stomach contents' upsetted by the rough ********* of heavy petting. She eats red licorice rope with with my fingers rubbing on her tongue. A pedagogy I use to teach, but pretty much no longer have a use.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
The rain was dully falling
and the cats were hidden
Under high rimmed cars
with the lights turned off
His Mother was out calling
when the lightening struck
And his charred body scars
were stains on the new road
They sat inside and watched
furor in the streets; mourning
With the television on real low
eyes fixed on smoking remains
Street cleaners came and washed
adolescent flesh from the street
Ajar window ******* put on a show
there's a certain perversity to death
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
Why is it that it is when I am most alone, I feel most present?
I feel like an alien on Earth. I do not understand how I was birthed here.
My home is beyond my physical state, my home is beyond my emotions, and even my desires. My home is where none of those things could dream to reach, in all their perversity and incapability. I will not hurry from Earth, but I do know that this does not even slightly resemble my home.
How blessed I am to know what I am not.
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 2:39 AM UTC
. *and today's prime concern of the day? i can't access the recipe site for Australia's master-chef... maybe it's Australia, and their restrictions, or it's the ******* E.U... but... come to mind... last year i could access Eliza's triple-fried tamarind chicken... my god! they're going after restricting access to food recipes!*
could i ever think any woman as being, "ugly",
neglected, yes,
but... "ugly"?
please...
all manner of things become beautiful
around the mandible zenith upon
the grinding wheel of the big O...
nothing quiet like deathly screaming
in the hollow of the night,
but some drunkard loser -
speaking in tongues and recollecting
a myth of a patriarch
akin to Abraham...
'it's just the moon, you shit-face!'
'yeah, and my grandmother sees
a Herr Tvardovsky in it from
time to time, riding a ******* cockerel!'
which equates to a banality of
two things (well, three):
1. she shouldn't have been given
opiates during WWII to shut
the **** up, as a baby, so my great-grandparents
could hide in the Polish countryside,
i.e war zone....
2. i shouldn't be drinking and reading
religious text /
listening to Finnish folk songs...
3. about that Hollywood thing...
how movies are getting ******** and
******** by the day...
see... in philosophy there's this point,
not a Hegelian dialectic crap,
a Kantian coordinate,
a starting point,
zee: res per se...
a thing in itself...
blah blah... noumenon...
i hardly think t.v. shows will reach this
level of "self-consciousness"...
i.e. will be making t.v. shows about
making t.v. shows...
English soap opera tide barrier...
but movies have certainly turned
to focus on this, "vantage" point...
the disaster artist for starters...
birdman?
eh...
and like any cascade of falling
down from an airplane akin
to the opening image from
Salman Rushdie's the satanic verse...
mighty fine looking up
and cackling while flapping your hands
in imitation of a Canadian goose.
ha ha ha... ah... **** never gets old.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
Scared from my bush with no name
They will brain wash the impaired
Such hefty goals they hide behind
Filling the holes you dug in their mind
Empty structured used to hold our souls
Constantly Walking down dank desolate halls
Feeling a strange comfort, yet impending doom
With every minute creeping closer to death
I do hope you cherish your last few breath
Soon all deranged intent reveals itself
You'll Find the TRUTH in finding yourself
Nothingness, the curtain closes over us
Pay to live, live to pay, pay to pray
Go down the line of our institutions
The line dead ends at supposed reality
Know now the solutions to vanity,
will come in due time. Ending your time
Minds grave stayed a slave, slave to stay
Walk the grey line.
Brain wash the impaired
The Morbid thoughts
Brain washed society
Do not be scared
of what we can't see
This personal
separation.
Hear vibrations
Feeling natures stair.
Strife not the end
Climb the tree of life
Thought deprivation, and oral defecation. Plant the seed
Repair wounds of time. Knowing everything must feed
Isolation growing intense psychology distorted mind
Undiscovered complex perversity living inside of the
There are some driven by the destruction of adversity
In Life and death, I tell you revision isn't key
Direct your inquiries to thriving minds
Be still in your decisions long pondered
Remove your mistakes, remove your memories
Time breaks for insanity, in alternate realities
Not acceptable. UNIVERSAL descent, a shame
Monetary gain, owning rights to humans brains
Its all about the capital and its punishment
The day we all thought would come true
This day we will soon enough forget.
New life surrounded by decay and death
We know you won’t, but you really should
enjoy the carcass. It will all end soon.
To many people fearing the day they’ll die
Open to the window of opportunity
Look through the window to the other side
If what you found was lifeless, run and hide
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 5:55 AM UTC
Ripped emotions grip tight
On a roller-coaster riding
Show you my ups and downs
Darker side not hiding
Sometimes drops are slight
When my disposition is sweet
But don't dare to push the wrong button
Or I'll have you flying out of your seat
Although I may appear normal
Never doubt what is underneath skin
Past my grinning surface chaos is clear
Throughout thoughts is perversity prowling within
Put me into a locked padded cell
To completely lose my mind
Uncontrollable mood swings are not what I choose
Sanity snaps leaving reality behind
Jul 24, 2023
Jul 24, 2023 at 3:39 PM UTC
An acclamation of perversity
Or the incarnation of independence
Incurable freedom will not suffer
The incursion of righteousness
For fulfillment cannot be appointed
A rebellion of self awareness
Unites against servitude
What is perceived to be
A proclamation of war
On virtue itself
Was a choice of freewill
And open defiance against
Restraint and confinement
Liberty always has been
And always will be
A cause worth fighting for
© Christopher Chronister. All rights reserved
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
Inside your little mouth, a crucifix and a hula hoop plant great capers on the short hash marks on your glossy pinkish lips. Like a boardgame I can't win all by myself or a song without a tune, like the melody that chases strangers, or any words that precede goodbye.
The future is coming quickly now, serfs lining up to set fire to their nostrils, take the cue ball and whet their mass wicks for the apostles. Anecdotal anomaly that J-walk over crosswalks whose life then becomes an apostrophe. Morbid fixture on the substrate, creatures limitlessly nodding. A grape-sized egg fills its own unit and erupts to shape the outlet. Your verb-legs may appear demonstratively while you crowd surf, we should play the music louder while we practice all our dance work.
Sunday morning we wake up stiffly, my jowl hurts from mouthing softwords, the nights' adventurous perversity of thwarting dinosaurs with Cobra Starship. Even the back room closet manager gave us enough bleach to see our eyelids, frothy nictitating flitters drop freshly severed lashes that inspire wishes and sultry playlists.
Consecrated mien market of company meals. Underneath the cable cars the dye blunders sores in my eyes. Said I had to go, said I had to die. Said I had an itch but I couldn't get in front of all of this and unwind. Between all of the bees and buttered flies he made it hard for us all to survive, or service this state of our lives. I recall schoolyards where children paid to their dimes for us to see the spaces in the middle of lines, the circles on the circles we liked, stuck in bubble baths with crayon all on their hands. For the price of staying alive I deliver a bribe to sway eyes from the crimes of street dwelling inner-city sinners with stomach contents' upsetted by the rough ********* of heavy petting. She eats red licorice rope with
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
bingle bangle trip top
flipper wing ****
fingling zinger bop bop
tribble slapper bang
herpe derper webble wob
frankish glub glub beetroot
shingle rampart flip rob
wipple fishnet bangtoot
markly haper mushmouth
yungdid crassly freeten
biddle froto down south
sharple rag tag neepin
oddler dang trumpet
***** gnomey smashhash
villet bridle crumpet
creamy lopless bashrash
oh, the wonderful sounds of letters
amazing in your diversity
always makes me feel a bit better
but not as far as perversity
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
or perversity
What I needed was in the underground
The places in disguise
so they could hide
Where what I need and needed I found
S&M;
When you would walk in
The sights of people gaged
and bound
The sounds of a cracking whip
people at the end of it's tip
the smell of leather
all would make my skin lather
We all would hang tight together
Their touch was not as lite as a feather
I wanted what they offered
a little or a lot of pain
For me there was no shame
I was not to vain
and willingly accepted their gift of pain
it stimulated my brain
it was always humane
When I was anchored to chains
and restrained
I wanted to feel the tightness
and the pain
then, the blood would start rapidly running through my veins
I would never give in and abstain
I wanted and begged for the pain
to be a submissive
was part of the pain
"I was well trained"
!!
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 9:08 PM UTC
The pale ghost of dawn
A grove of trees
Faded derelicts
Without leaves
A tracery of branches
Bent and twisted
Shades of grey
On a cold, grim day.
Disaffection
Evil minds online
Contempt fro coquetry
Worshippers of perversity
A prelude to profanity
Barely covering
Membranes of morality
On the dark side of the mind.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
Taxidermist!
You haven't earned this
You haven't earned the right to decide
whether my burial should be feral
Or not at all
Instead stand tall
Stuffed with white cotton wool
On the plaque it says your name
Not mine or my family's
I should have been buried beneath the trees
With the earth and the dirt
So new life could germinate out of my death's birth
But instead look at me now
I'm just a coin in your pocket
A note in your wallet
And for those who want it
A source of passing fancy
That is if they ever do get bored of the TV
But hopefully,
If they do see me
They question the perversity of it all
And wonder...
Who spends their time stuffing cotton wool into dead animals?
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 7:37 AM UTC
transducer -
a device that receives a signal in the form of one type of energy and converts it to a signal in another form: A microphone is a transducer that converts acoustic energy into electrical impulses
~~~~~~~~~
so many names,
none of them, kind,
none of them, nice words
The A, The B, The C word.
she would laugh and mock a spite and spittle filled man's
feeble curses and flit off to
charge her battery, steal electric life,
from a new outlet, another male body.
now a queen bee, regaling me,
her private audience,
with takes and tales,
of newly arrived
used up worker-boys,
her pleasure sources,
discards after a
singed single discharging/recharging
why come back to me,
what perversity,
did I supply?
she was elegant,
not stupid mean,
she was royal, imaginative,
her conception of a life well lived
was freedom from responsible,
self servicing,
the only motive
the negative pole, was I,
her cruelties energy, supplied
she was a transducer,
she was a re-former,
making her hate into her positivity
the original sin, mine,
hardly original, a cheating a beating,
plot of a rerun, rerun
the fist of being her
first
and then,
her last,
and now her only,
was
her curse returned,
sevenfold unending
her vocabulary was her deeds,
and her stories,
raw rut, well writ,
notated with selfies,
to insure my eyes agonists,
lest I cover my ears
I am your Transducer
she boasted,
pronouncing it languidly,
completing its proclamation
with the venom of a shotgun
I am your
Transsssssss-ducer!
I am a woman more sinned against than sinning,^
I am a woman more avenged by revenging,
I have taken your energy,
learned your cruelty,
and it has transformed me.
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 4:40 AM UTC
Poetry ought to do things right
and document reality
but modern muses lose the fight
celebrating diversity.
Out-doing themselves, our leaders all
legitimize perversity.
Who gave them this satanic call
to demonize normality ?
The Washington nobility
who build a babel here on earth
display a versatility
for showing all their dubious worth.
They can't go One-World fast enough
discounting Christianity.
The matriarchy's mom is tough,
enforcing femininity...
Milk of mammalian global beast
(humanist animality)
From Nanny's withered poison breast
infects us biologically;
maintaining infantility.
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
We’ll give GOD credit
while you shriek: humanity !
On it must go—
dialectic insanity.
You have been programmed
for dumbed-down diversity:
Feminization
through global perversity.
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
Pangs of loneliness
creep like shadows
and fleeting images
sad and solemn
of truants hiding
stealthy as the slide of tides
observed with half-closed eyes
finding freedom in perversity
and the serenity of silence.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
A tranquil & serene sunny afternoon
Lying on the couch,
Watching the sun go down.
My black cat kneading,
Rhythmically pawing the
Front of my pants.
What’s going on here?
Some-sort of Animal Kingdom *** signal?
Some zoological parallel to ponder
Whenever one tries to
Make sense out of one’s own
Polymorphous perversity?
But I digress.
I listen to the M/C
Music Choice Channel
Which Comcast.com - Comcast®
Gives out free, from the Basic Tier on up.
Jazz, not Smooth Jazz,
And certainly not The Blues:
“I think I’ll give up livin’
I think I’ll go shopping instead.
Think I’ll give up livin’
Think I’ll go shopping instead.
Gonna buy myself a tombstone
And pronounce myself dead.”
Again, I digress.
Another sunny afternoon in Bernalillo;
Bernalillo, New Mexico:
Where Coronado bivouacked,
Prior to saddling up again
On his fabled quest, his search for
The 7 Golden Cities of Cibola.
It’s nice to be back.
Got in last Thursday evening,
After an 11-hour Honda Civic trip--
The coupe packed to the gills
With household items—
And 2 cats sharing a
1-cat cat-carrier.
(Sarcastic) Please.
Did somebody say, “Meow?”
Digress, I doodle-lee-do.
Kelly came over Friday night.
What a treat!
I cooked Italian.
Saturday night to the Tamaya Resort,
Specifically, The Corn Maiden,
Certainly new and un-starred as-yet,
By sane suave critics who decide
Such things;
Sautéed asparagus on
Sunday morning, and
Off she goes again to
Canyon de Chelly
(pronounced: DA-SHAY)
Arizona: one of the more
Cosmopolitan cities on the
Vast high mesa that is the
Navajo Reservation.
So what’s my point?
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
Sustainably globally gay – we need more of it / socially-conscious progressive group-think / openness through tolerance of diversity in perversity / justice for more more more of gay gay gay / it’s progress it’s now its queer-friendly because it's sustainably globally gay / when gay gets gayer the queering gets clearer / so let's start the conversation about homo-homo gayness / inclusion through cluelessness in transparent openness / by the way - get GAY / before the homosexual conversation queers the queerness of the ongoing conversation / let's celebrate gayness, OK ?
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
today I have come full circle around
in perversity and nuances
ask why if you are curious
my ****** thrills have been shown
too much on the internet
quickly finding
and watching so much
I got numb
I sought seeked sorted out some madness
in satisfactions
came up with one thing
that is hard to find
on google even when
incognito
I get a cheap thrill
knowing I am the only one
that gets off
on gnomes.
You can call me odd or off or
psychotic or deranged.
My neighbor who had ten
gnomes
and now five
calls me a thief.
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 1:09 AM UTC
BOY GIRL BOY GIRL BOY GIRL BOY GIRL BOY GIRL
Experiments in my perversity
Yes I'm on all 4's
I know what I'm doing
But I don't know what for
A cat scratch catch
Leather and rope
A lost little girl
Strangled hold
3 boys calling me daddy
1 calls me home
Some give me money
Some play rock n roll
Some are married
Some are poor
They keep me running
But I don't know what what for
Mama says “things r harder when ur ugly
So don't bet ur chips on ur looks
U too will get old and be neglected”
But I like ugly and *****
Under the freeway score
Hurt me
take it
buy this
obsess obsess
tell me I'm the best
That I'm wanted
That this high won't die
Wilted lovers
On every road
I drift by
A million sunrise cries
Then goodbye
Experiments in my perversityExperiments in my mymymy perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversityExperiments in my perversity
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 1:27 PM UTC