"petrify" poems
the darkest of my fantasies whisper
Your body is a scuba suit
insist i breath with your ******* through your mouth
dive deep into claustrophobic waters, sink heavy to the rock bottom
where we petrify by gorgans gaze
i know we'll turn to stone because, of course, the gorgans can't resist gazing at You
nobody can resist gazing at You, land or sea.
Our permanent legacy, lost under layers of life
barnacles clinging, moss burying Our chimera god/snake skin
i am without Your oxygen
when breathing would terrorize the wind
where words belong
still, my forked tongue writes
i'm a theif to say i only want You to be happy
when i had You, it was still selfish
the revolving doors of pain and perseverance
more time invested in us
then money invested in the Pills that kept me from killing You
out of habit
You begged me to beat You
it's been seven hands dealt
rubbing my 5 o'clock sandpaper chin
on the tarot card of death
my tolerance for vacancy
a brownish red stain
i've only the thin line of medication between necrophilia and sociopathy
i want to lay with You at the bottom of the sea
**the Pills... where are...
please no, God.
The Voice, run!
get out!**
*I would gladly go to prison
to **** your lifeless body.
I would gladly **** Myself in the afterglow
of your affection.
there is only one true Sin, Objectification.
I indulge relapse
in every memory, find
your shed snake skin
pull it on, like your *******
how disturbed I've become
with you gone*
how selfish of you
of course "I" blames You
when the Pills dull
i indulge by studying Your location
i know where You escape too
i want to go there
does that scare You?
i want to bump into You
apoligise for what i want
"want" as a word
is like plexi-glass, or kevlar
standing between Us
keeping the bullet safe.
i want a hard impact
in a school hallway
where we drop all our
Books and look up and You
see my ghost, that would be enough for Me
i want the impact to hurt.
i want the tumbling of all our Book's
i want the messy hair and ripped knees,
then Our
eyes to meet
and linger
I want to watch the fear fill you.
i want to sit there,
watching.
petrify from parcel tongues
as i gaze at Your gorgon body
shedding skin
if i shed my snakeskin,
maybe i'll see You
i can't leave this Poem
i can't leave this Poem yet
i won't leave this Poem
please kick me out
Poem
Poem
end Me
..
end
.
I
..
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 8:17 AM UTC
Decency is very immaculate.
Yet these women lack it.
Showing so much skin that the men can probably taste it.
These men insinuate women into *** objects.
But pushing them
to become a despised icon.
Now a days reputation seems to be the stereo type.
Males are pigs waiting to be slaughtered.
Girls will rant consistently about how they use and manipulate them.
Yet you live up to being a back porch baby,
as well show off those curves anonymously for lustful eyes.
False alarms wont save them. Cause they burn their own bridges.
Yet others wear their pride
and keep what most are not aware of, which is class.
Women who stay loyal to the core and Share their soul with nothing but a Heart full of
ravishing intentions are indeed very rare.
Beauty that would petrify you were you are standing.
A delightful dream
that you're scared you will wake up and suffer society's standards of a female.
The lesson of this is nice guys finish last.
My amazing charm and mentality of a gentlemen is ignorantly ignored.
Nothing but remorse can be felt with this situation with them.
Sorry that they will never feel the vibrations
of the overrated word named "love".
Things that would make Hester Prynne disgusted.
But in all words,
my sail with no compass will not be over.
The storms might get heavy periodically, but then the waves will sail properly in my favor.
My search will be fulfilled
So on this long sail I'll never acknowledge these indescent
sirens.
So when they pass "X" will mark the spot.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
A snake doesn't just throw shade
We thrive in the shadows
Stalking our prey,
Think you've got what it takes
We'll swallow you whole.
I dare the kittens birdys & roadkill
To make a mistake
You really think your house spits
poison Better than a snake?
Our Partsel tongue is "forked for her pleasure"
Each time we seal a letter
witches get wetter
other houses cringe at our fame
cold blooded killers
don't buy it? Just wait.
Our Snakeoil salesman
Will Have you beggin' for change
You dare to stand against a python?
You don't even know code
I can't pull punches
if I don't have hands, Bro.
Like medusas hair dresser
Expect-to petrify
Better call Cobra
Get insurance for your life.
What's the matter
Gonna cry?
Because We can't.
Ask science.
I dare you to challenge
My Reptilian brethren
We're Unhinging our jaw
getting fed like it's league of legends.
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 4:42 PM UTC
Hey, I already told you that you were a little bit crazy.
What did you think—that I was completely nuts?
Come on, Cashew, and shake that walnut-sized brain of
yours, and then we’ll try to put together a decent menu.
Still, I ought to kick you in those itty-bitty sunflower seeds,
those ones that you claim to be your source of protein.
Hey, Macadamia Breath, accidentally lose the ******* hula
dancer and then fire the impending search-and-rescue party!
Your tropical trail mix was no good for each other.
You need a vacation from this deserted island, Captain Crunch.
Go down south and get yourself the businessman’s special.
You know—some old-fashioned brazil nuts.
Yeah, that’s the two-tickets-to-paradise, for sure.
Fool, you really do need to buff up the old almond.
Do I need to open up the **** aluminum lid for you?
You’ve been stuck inside this assorted, mixed can that you
try to refer to as an extra bedroom for nearly nine months.
Get out and take in a little hike and bike
right after you do the wake and bake.
Maybe you should go slow roast yourself at the beach a little.
Why don’t you go to the mountains and try to become one of those
pine nuts that end up in all of those overpriced health cereals?
Hey, Snickers, those dank trees really are beautiful, you know.
Would you quit acting like a frikkin’ flax seed already?
Just admit that it’s almost payday, for criminy sakes!
You pathetic Mister Peanut, you.
Please, Saint Chestnut, give this completely lost consumer strength
from high above store aisle number nine.
Number nine.
Number nine.
Number nine.
Listen to me, Nutt Sack, will you shake those tiny little beer
nuts that no one can seem to stomach anyway?
First of all, they are becoming way too stale just sitting around here,
so if you continue to wait any longer, they will petrify—and then we
will eventually be forced to call you teeth-breaking Corn Nuts!
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
Don't blame the lion for the pride
Don't let yourself whisper those insults
Don't see the bad and push away the good
Realize there's more to the pride than that
Because even though the Alpha Male
May not be who you'd choose
It's not up to you
Or me
Or he
It's up to the fittest
And his mighty roar may petrify the gazelles
Who ignorantly graze on the pride's land
Who sheepishly bolt away from danger
But the pride should have no fear
The pride should rally around the fearsome roar
Not be scattered around like gazelles
And when one member
Leaves the pride
He steps off the captain's seat
And begins to eat the grass
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
The pace isn't the same,
I don't know how to do the dance.
It doesn't feel right.
The two of us connected,
like Twizzlers...
waiting to be pulled apart.
Melded together if by accident,
but ill fitting all the same.
I don't like this hold...
counting the seconds until it's over.
I miss his imprint.
I miss his acrobats.
I miss the shape of our twisted bodies,
a smattering of arms and legs like Krishna.
I want to petrify it,
keep it always how it was.
For my records, of course....
just to compare.
The science is behind it.
My own personal form of chemistry.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Muggy murky dawn clogged with gloom the abbey
Where his grampy sleeps ,
Through
the drizzles fizzle
As native orchids embosoms and blossoms in his lost vault.
like a curfew drawn in the church
The pew lost its crowd
With the paws of time.
Lone man sleep
In deep latin chants they petrify you
Before sheol purifies you
And litany literature lecture limbs you
When in overprotected embankments of battlements
They dry their garbs
Where your lore forayed growth
And sweat smeared smelt breathed wealth
Chagrin dreams washed ashore
lay as upon a cold mornings recollection on a tabloids sold column
which drew your freckles bolder
In a savour of remembrance
For your zealous zealots
Who on an another 'all souls day' reoccur revisiting
the truth of their establishment
in prayers
The good Lord adorn you
Let Lekker dreams cradle you
Your consorts concert never consume you
And earth never haunt you
May 20, 2012
May 20, 2012 at 1:47 AM UTC
Have you ever lost a staring contest
To a pen?
Its eyes stare and petrify
All my limbs
The only movement my body betrays
Is the panicked beating
Of my chest against the warm air
No hunt and no monster
Has ever brought me so close to my death
Fight, only another excuse
to guard myself, and hide within
the old, motherless womb
the steel framework of bones,
my ribs encase more than lungs
But this pen, allied with
The gruesome, horrifying, smiling
Faces of the kind kinfolk
Has chased me to the corner
Brought chains and locks to furnish me
Like a window frame or a stylized vase
The only teeth I fear
To sink deeply within me
And spill my blood
A display to the world
Silly- I am called a grown man,
Yet what I fear most
Is a small plastic cylinder
Resting on a yellow pad
May 9, 2012
May 9, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
And with hot branding, I name the end, it is unknown Obadiah, it is uncompromising Demosthenes, it is ambuscaded Agamemnon,
it is crafty Cain, it is able to pull lightning down from clouds to electrify a world beset upon by forces of great magnitude, vibrations ricochet off of each other, quaking knee's knock as earthquakes rock tectonic plates.
In this final hour what was once to edify is now to petrify and once let free the fire is an esurient monster after being kept so long locked behind the now yawning earthen gates, witness even the most pluvial flourishing plain blister and boil, witness unyieldingly the flesh bubbling in flux as if from extreme cell proliferation, another soul abdicates its husk.
Mayhap this life will lead to another, as If there will be a choice project an air-less voice on the matter, will this If, insist on this If,
hold your breath in front of polyonymous Death, let without a moan a trembling icy finger trace lips of now great pallor and make the word-less decision known, no more cyclical reaping of our worn souls says humanity and beg on the now naked ruth for our sanity.
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 8:46 AM UTC
love me in my petty sleep, for i'll be with you soon
Love me in my coma creep, love me like the moon.
Glorify my name as i would have done for you
Petrify the trespassers, I would have done that too.
Now forgive me as i pass on to my next life
For i could not have forgiven you, had you turned out my wife
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 11:25 PM UTC
the ever briggy snapperjab,
once as trallhup as spacescrapers,
had his woo jotty happenstance
jejuned and nooned
and i soon saw
that i too was too much tooned
in the known visible wavelurf
where roving fate is ghosted
by inexhorrorbull ringly meedecree
of blingee choo choo Hist-o-Then
ever since,
my crave
has castled me down
into whitened gray limb petrify
where diggy beclouded sendersave replaces
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 3:36 PM UTC
Apocalyptic dreams
An ubiquitous presence of the unholy entities
I'm sitting by the riverside
My cat has suddenly started exhibiting taciturn traits
Spiders are floating with immense soigné
The bucolic setting leaves me hypnotised
I'm not used to this silence
Fishes underwater petrify my insights
I'm sitting by the riverside
Amazed by the eloquence of the obscure
My eyes seem to reflect my up bringing
The differences leave me in a state of vertigo
I hope this reverie lasts a little longer.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 4:29 AM UTC
Old courtyards with tubs of laundry:
‘Go to the washerwoman and do your own washing’
I whisper to you, and the wild apricot trees
all turn suddenly white, the sky pales,
the world is ****** in a drenching buzz.
There΄s a smell of bluebags and a sulphurous bubbling.
You΄d hardly believe it — so much steam rises
that only dirt is left in the copper.
The wild apricots petrify into coral.
It΄s so easy — easy in a woman΄s way —
to wash your soul, to rejoice in the spring wind
shaking the scales on its dragon-tail
so that you΄re looking at soap-bubbles
it blows for you between your fingers.
Two children pass by, holding on a string
a balloon transparent as a bubble.
For a moment we are crouched inside it.
Grete Tartler
[Translated into English by Fleur Adcock]
New Europe Writers Bucharest Tales, Contemporary Literature Press, Bucharest, 2014
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
On the occasion that we kiss downy
silken, time diminishes
we petrify within our rapture
existance sails about
like snow in a globe, gentle
hushed
When we reduce
our eyes convene
courts of affection
and the world is unchained, free
to move again
At home within your purchase
a fox within its burrow, warm
at ease, a lovers sympathy
You give me life
I breathe.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC
I kind of want to delete everything
Because maybe then I could forget who I am
But with my luck it'd make me forget who you are too.
I need to believe that I'm good enough
But rereads make me think the opposite
And words in bed are too dangerous to believe.
You see something in me
And apparently I'm blind to it.
I've been trying-your words don't scare me as much these days
But I think I might be showing it more.
I guess I trust you, is all.
You scared me, bad.
Or I scared myself.
All I know is I had to retreat.
It wasn't intentional
Without defense mechanisms, war would be much faster.
Maybe it's a cycle.
I'm not sure which is the starter, my writing or my self esteem
But they both seem to fall terribly every few weeks.
The limelight is unflattering to everyone
Because lime green is such a horrible color.
I think it's the worst on me.
I don't think you can realize how big of a deal it is for me.
I don't know what I'm so afraid of
But nothing you say seems to help.
I still freeze
I still petrify.
It still makes me want to run away.
Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 11:47 AM UTC
She is her own island
A porcelain memory with
tendrils twisting through the brutally
polite obsession of her few inhabitants
She fancies herself abandoned-laughable!
Doomed daffodils embroider themselves into her hair and
frame her cold hands, pale arms
(mortared, mistranslated) scars
fingernails like moons slaughter foreigners
and petrify
the flea ridden.
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
Behind the mask of darkness
Always lies the madness of one inner self
It is important to respect one fear
Around this time of Halloween
The autumn leaves had blanket the cold October ground
Covering the Jack' o lantern on the front porch,
And I wasn’t about to let nothing petrify me that cold night
I remember that morning had come a minute too soon
Before my R E M cycle kicked in
I wasn’t mentally prepare to face another day
But there I was once again: undone
In my country we were never allowed to,
Celebrate Halloween or dress up in
Anything, that resembles evil, ghost, globin,
Headless horsemen, or vampires,
It was known to be the works of the devil doings
My candid thoughts were on Halloween spooky night
The loud screams of trick or treats,
was heard all around this gloomy town of Collins port
Small tots all dress up in hideous costumes
I had allowed fear to control my thoughts and inner space
Black spiders, howling wolves and black coffins,
The creepiest sound and display on route 69
Grown folks hide behind the masks of darkness
While parading the street of Sotho in Manhattan
Another long night of evil spirits, witches and ghosts terrify the night;
Toddlers with Tiaras was on the verge of tears
what a lose-lose situation: From beginning to end
Close to ten there I was cruising down route 69
I check the glove compartment, took out a peppermint patty,
The rusty Beretta Nano pistol was still there,
snugly into my glove compartment
My pepper spray was close by my trigger fingers
Suddenly, I felt a **** scraping, and clunking, squeaking sound
My tire blowout in the middle of nowhere,
Behind the mask of darkness
Always lies the madness of one inner self
"Trick or treat!"
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 8:51 AM UTC
I'm caged
And these four walls
Are strangling me.
I've choked
On your pathetic
Neglegance.
Some friends.
My throat has been cut
By the blade
Of your arms.
A ****
I tumble like a rag doll;
Four walls pushing and pulling.
Find me an escape.
Become my escape.
Cut their chains
And save me.
Save me.
Save me.
Save me.
Another nosebleed.
Another lifeless weekend.
Go to your parties,
Go to your fames.
I'll sit and petrify again.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 1:25 AM UTC
You saw me
Saw me break my fingers
and petrify the pieces
so that your hand would never
fit between them again.
But you forced your fingers through
through the sharp rock that tore flesh
and shards of bone that pierced deep
you held my hand and smiled
A smile fleeting, staying only a second
but a smile that spoke poetry
and paragraphs kept at bay
parts of me I no longer needed
fear, loneliness, pain
But you did not love me for the new
you did not love the words I spoke to other
rehearsed behind routine smiles and laughs
you loved me for scars that hid beneath skin
You called them tattoos
Speaking stories and tales
and you said that made me a painter
and a writer
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
We look deep into each others eyes
Glance at our souls
The self satisfying reason
We decide to live to see tomorrow
Yet as a tear escapes your eye
I know we are not forever
We will soon end
You can't face the fact that I love you
You think I deserve better
Well think again
I don't deserve anything but a bullet in my brain
Chasing out the thoughts that keep me awake at night
Laying in an empty bed
For countless hours
Wishing you were with me
Even if we are not forever
My love for you will be
And no one shall taste my love
No one shall know my love
My heart will petrify
Turn to stone
Till you learn that you are all I want
The only one I want and I don't care who knows
But you know this poem is for you
Because I talk to you everyday
I text you early in the morning
I love you with a heart broken
But still made of gold
Because this heart is in your hands
If I have to cut it from my chest
We are not forever
Because we will die
Its our love that will be forever
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 9:03 PM UTC
Do you still see the hand of God?
Or has that appendage blended,
Into the power of spiritual awareness,
To which I see my fellows so attuned.
I know that God is not a man,
Not a person,
And not a thing,
But I miss my story.
The one about sacrifice, love, and fate,
A great father at the helm,
Directing us through waves that petrify reflexes,
God gentrifies the isolated,
God intimidates iniquity,
And spirituality is for the soul.
But I wish, still, for a better story in this age so new.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
I want to be the Man of Steel
But I cannot breathe
On that tight sheath
I'm too short to spread
That shiny cape of red.
I want to roam the galaxies
But my fear of height
Defeats my will for flight
And my skinny thighs
Tremble in the skies.
I want to have Herculean strength
But my tiny hands
Don't stand a chance
Over chunks of meteors
Or Velociraptors.
I want to gain superior speed
But my porous skin
Crumbles in the wind
And my crooked feet
Hate the city streets.
I want a pair of laser eyes
But my reading glasses
Could reflect the flashes
And deprive my sight
Of the Earthly light.
I want the power of the sun
But my curly hair
Could catch a flare
And they'll all conspire
To set myself on fire.
I want a shield of purest lead
But my brittle bones
Petrify to stones
Before the aegis glides
Against all Kryptonites.
I hate to want the Man of Steel
His pair of laser eyes
Or his flight to the skies
His speed and vigor
Or eternal power.
I wish to be just Clark Kent
Who only has a pen
That he can lend to men
But was the one to gain
The love of Lois Lane.
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 6:21 AM UTC
She borrowed the tiger’s eye necklace,
glinting
golden-amber-brown,
for a wedding.
A wedding
they never made it to.
The tire blew out on the way,
and no-one knew how to fix it so
they stayed in the car.
Heat made the air
ripple and roil;
a still pond disturbed
by the sun’s burning fingers.
Rolling down windows,
opening doors;
none of it helped.
The sun baked the moisture from the air like
bread in an oven,
****** the sweat from their bodies like
juice from an orange,
leaving behind the shriveled skins
to petrify in its heat.
Modern-day mummies;
wedding finery for linen wrappings,
their car a crowded sarcophagus.
The amulet on her neck,
the borrowed tiger’s eye
blinking fiercely
golden-amber-brown
under the brighter, fiercer eye
of the sun.
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC