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mariano aponte Feb 2016
Absence of malice
Her smile whispers
Eyes in agreement
with subtle grace
Indulged gestures
I prearrange
From the first place
am I caught in a haze
With the rate of exchange
and no charming phrase  
Exquisite delicacies seem ornamental
yet feels pretty real
her flirtatious displays
No harm
I can still be sentimental
As I take note to compose
then reappraise
Empirical proof
whether artful or not
Her passes are strickly incidental
The Dedpoet Sep 2017
A regards to the singlular
Chaos,
But life dwelling is not a
Trek alone:

   I forecast order in a feminine
Touch that clouds the menacing
Aloness,
That order feminine
Which will throw away old
Things lukewarm in my
Memory,
The old cup that barely bears
The insignia of my team,
An order feminine which will
Prearrange all the chaos
And let me fill it's orders,
A space all my own,
A dusty garage
And all the feminine order
Will not follow me there,
But direct like a good woman
Does pushing behind every man.

An oder feminine like the sweet
Smelling home she scents
As with everything she touches,
    The chaos will never truly
Die,
It will slumber and awaken a few times a week,
An occasional game and fire and meat,
And filling in the time
Between the spaces,
An order feminine
Diguises a brute and differs
Into a man.
SassyJ Jul 2016
Energetic vampires crucify as
their feet sink on the ground
arms afloat in fits pounding
their body is entirely hammered
to sit in conclusions of others
Their form is a liquid chameleon
one that flows like a gel of misery
Their emotions are on the gear drive
like dying wax on a gassed chamber

These dark energies are permeable
as their existence fasten death
on our calm natured souls
Their doom is a constant taunt
a blackened hole of dark form
The horn they raise is evil
like an adventure wire of unbalance
For my destiny I hold them not

Their eyes of desire vibrate
like a treasure of lost beads
They beat in a sack and ****
as we duck on the underpass
Their nails are hardened and long
as they gnaw all that is not theirs
Their teeth protrude and grind
grounded in the egoistical trespass

Their palms are calloused and aged
prearrange in a planned plot
Their aura electrified to burn
spreading a life threatening smoke
that haze of the unnamed display
As one rolls like a wrestled ball

Let go and rise up from the witched prey
Tilt the strength and dull their day
Filter their strength from your glory
Shadow them with the light and shine
*Go beyond, fly above, as they live below

— The End —