"premeditation" poems
There is something violent about how I see the skin on your body
Its so rich and smooth, almost decadent and unlike you
This observation turns into a premeditation when you touch my cheek
Its almost like i can feel the heat melting off your bones
As I laid you down and slipped a knife underneath your sternum
You whispered something hidden in painful tones like a sharp breath piercing the guttural moans
But I dont need to hear words to know the searing desire steaming from your guts as I replaced them with hot stones
The blood on your finger tips remind me of fresh water on leaves after a storm and your severed head looks like its been through famine, disease, and a damaged city plagued and war torn
Yet there is still beauty in the decayed decadence that is your mutilated corpse
The moonlight drowns in the canal of blood begging for remorse while the insects march and sing a song of things that can only get worse
©anthonyasylum
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
The hue of streets; cousins of chalkboards;
the distinct voice of transition; of forbidden love
sipped through straws of anticipation;
swallowing decadent tribulations
to nourish picturesque gardens
and English dreams; the line between
appreciation and alienation
Happens to be the blemish
of today's death; headline hopscotch
founding father of premeditation
Sound prints in the sand
Mar 17, 2012
Mar 17, 2012 at 9:35 AM UTC
You,
Lone being
Of enduring kindness,
Your tiny hand touching me tenderly,
Even in the bleakest times.
Dragging me out of the darkness
Even as I continually crawled toward it.
The tortures inflicted,
both blindly and unintentionally
And with premeditation and surety
Should surely not have befallen one so gorgeous of spirit.
It seems now you have lost your faith in me,
As I have failed to fulfill a slew of promises.
But, you do not understand where I stand,
How my hands are shackled
Fettered to the spot,
When we dwelled together
Hell rained down until our hearts were parted.
I do not wish for the intensity of my vile
To drizzle and stain, and burn and brand you.
You are far too precious to me to allow the chance of that.
But, seeing you burn my page from your diary,
Finally and emphatically denouncing me,
I am torn down like a ***** ******
I love you with devout intensity,
And watching you suffer at our separation
It equalled the potential pain of my tint tainting you.
So what am I to do now, kind one?
My smile only masks the agony so long.
Sweet one, whose kiss lasted longest,
Which sadly meant, there were fewer of them.
The clever saboteur will always sabotage us.
The angry cannoneer will always barrage us.
I don't want you to endure such things.
But NEVER stop believing I Love you!
Whatever you see occur,
Never forget this.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 9:13 AM UTC
#Alexithymia
I'm not hellish i'm driven by a Mephistophelean relish
To reach an introspection to understand the inception
The ontological Manichaeism turned to be an existential absurdism .
And i'm drown in my own nihilism
Oh...what an owlish reality !!! i'm squeamish about this absurdity
I rely on self-revulsion to resist this daily delusion
...
What an exasperation !!! we live in the premeditation
This nature carries a lot of humiliation !!!
I'm sick of this fornication
Could the end of the road at least fetch a salvation ?
What a downhearted metamorphosis
I'm lost and i feel astonished
...
With conviction that this existence is only a deception
Oh...Oh...Oh....what a corruption !!!
This reality is based on a false deduction
That leads to a fatal destruction
Just where is the dysfunction ???
Is it in my creation ...
#Mzoughi_Moncef Le 06/09/2013
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
I'll be the ***** it's expected.
No shocks or surprises.
She'll see it coming.
You can fade to nothing when harsh words cross paths.
I'm riled.
She knows it.
It's a little bit of all life new and past, but she'll get it.
It's not her fault but we'll say she had it coming.
Justify actions otherwise inexplicable.
Premeditated.
Premeditation.
Now anticipation.
Then justification.
Later.
Later nothing.
She had it coming.
She only had herself to blame.
She sees it coming.
If she doesn't, she should.
Now to wait.
Axes to tip.
Always in my favour.
I'm the *****
To the *****
I'll come out better.
Now delusional.
Not right, justified.
Not shocking.
Nothing.
It's nothing.
Delusions.
Pills.
Premeditation.
Silence.
I saw it coming.
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 6:40 PM UTC
I don't expect
my transgressions
to be forgiven.
I do intend
to blanket them
in a new mentality.
- fr
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 7:39 PM UTC
The streets of the city held no peace this night
The alleys held the smell of execution
The lingering taste of gun powder filled the air
And a bullet’s mark which held no retribution
There is a somber atmosphere where
Death and life hold a cold thickend embrace
A twisted love affair of tainted blood
Held an angel fallen from silenced grace
I saw her little feet looking so blue and cold
From behind the trash just beyond the bin
What a frightening sound within this quiet night
From the state of shock my heart was in
She was only eight years old with many dreams
Living on what her drug filled mom provided
This ghetto, project housing filled with pain
A spiritual war contains heaven and hell collided
She had been missing for only a few short hours
Not that her mom would have known or seen
She was high on the feeling that pipe would give
Empty hunger bought a life she didn't mean
The man drug her to that alley ***** and killed her
Where the city goes to die but never sleeps
Now lays silent an innocent angel of lost humanity
That her deadly silence now and forever keeps
I will never forget her little feet so vacant and bare
I wanted to cover her, wondering if she was cold
I wondered if her mother knew that day
It was her daughter’s precious life she sold
I can’t fathom the mind of a person hurting a child
These memories I carry have no consolation
A man with a demon on his back together, working
In their grizzly thoughts of premeditation
I was only a passerby of the alley that chilled night
I never knew her name, I never saw her face
I only saw her wings upon the building
As she left this cold and heartless place
Jan 19, 2011
Jan 19, 2011 at 6:03 PM UTC
alright, i give up
shoot me where i stand
you caught me red handed
trying to regain some familiarity
trying to steal back your attention
a fool's attempt at redemption
i have no motive, no secret plan
any premeditation would have
never let this ever happen
but here i am, staring at the ground
avoiding all eye contact, ashamed
filled with regret to ever see your face
to see you smiling at me, it drives me insane
i don't deserve this kindness from you
i want disgust and scorn
make me feel vile for all my actions
it would help me sleep at night
relief like a shotgun kiss goodnight
a culling lullaby to ease my mind
and the dreams, oh those ******* dreams
the haunting and subconscious wanting
where i can go anywhere in the world
and yet i drearily meander close to you
so forgive me for my crashing on your moon
i promise that i'll leave here soon
consider this my complete surrender
of a weary broken necked lover
in a letter post marked return to sender
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
My poetry is open and bare on the examination table
While my brain falls into place in the exsanguination cradle
Pieces fit together like a monster from the old world fables
Set up to disassociate the Cains from the Ables
We're all meant to die
There's no harm in asking why
Self harm, drugs left in the arms, premeditation, self incrimination
It won't matter when we're stitched up in a Y
Theres hidden meanings in every line
A chance to put aside all the woes and keep feelings burning inside
When things are on the decline
I can write down facts and theories
Like self investigation as to why I'm feeling weary
No Overbearing intoxication here just a rough cut heart of ice melting due to overheating and slipping liquidation
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 6:08 PM UTC
my spine was assembled clumsily and with an erratic precision of a hand that knows the premeditation of everything
the swarm came in the shape of an air conditioner
it's the characterizations of overgrown lawns and memory foam on the side of the curb
like going to the laundromat instead of church on Sunday
I've said this before, repetition lives inside the brain that continues to step over it's own feet
foot slowly inching towards my mouth
i could kiss you with my ankle if you would
the air conditioner buzzes all night like i did that night that i couldn't find the entrance in a place that i wanted to leave
take me home in a Chinese take-out box
i'll sit in the back of your fridge until you forget
i'll grow my own colony, mold malformation on the creases where the warmth should be
Sweaty container and you throw me out before Monday's pickup trash along with the expired mustard and mayonnaise
oh the missed opportunity, the dedication i could have gone to have given you a stomach ache that leaves you at three in the morning dry heaving your memories
that electric buzz stays until it's unwelcome and still it persists
so the bees have started to congregate, digress and drink the synthetic honeysuckle it spits
they take off, wings of woolly yellow into a breath that i consume by lungfuls
i don't know where they're going but that's okay because they keep coming back
and it's the permanence of something so flighty that calms the hum
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
How many squares on the checker board , one against one comes with an allowance
letting another progress so to see the weakness make a play but when will they pay
Color not as important as numbers ,actions still being based on reactions, secretly basking on their incompetence
Progression can be placid or briskly making its way to persevere, paving a hidden path seen as the winning way
seeing just squares on a board rectangles have four sides ,then why not four players
Red and Black are known as blood and death, is an unknown hidden mire behind the supposedly simple game
Check and balances is often a tale of life, opposing sides as part of strife ,are we to be patrons or purveyors
Positive motions moving forward often with hidden emotions ,outside actions can not interfere others can make a counterclaim
Passively we can make allow a process, shifting a game without showing shame, while the partner pays the penance
Premeditation using a shadowy mindset is now an advantage, parceled out as actions instead of knee **** reactions
Cresting high creating confusion can create new abilities rather than the perceived disabilities when making a play against tenants
Small disks now taking on a new role with different risks ,stacking for strength ,focusing while also shifting still hiding our passions
Piece to piece ,place to place, face to face, laid out on the table ready to begin realizing only one will be left to guard the stable
flip of a coin to decide the beginner, but many processes will be engaged ,passing on ,leaning back before we decide a true winner
Mid game break or mid life crisis ,the surrounding hushes or whispers happen making an unknown mark yet to have a true label
Payed with the subconscious and some sweat ,hopefully no act has made something possible so we're not seen a just a beginner R.C.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 1:28 AM UTC
Generation number four, of a FUSION bomb
was tested upon China, with premeditation and aplomb
-
Looks like it worked real good, how many more will they try out?
Maybe none at all, this will lead to WW3 without a doubt
-
The Chinese aren't dumb, like Americans are now
They'll ally themselves with Russia, and fulfill a vengeance vow
-
The Vow that they'll fulfill, will be destroy the USA
TOTAL devastation, will begin without delay
-
It will only last one hour, how do I know this?
It's in the Book of Revelation, read it, end your bliss
-
Chapter number 18, "one hour" is written thrice
Read it and take heed, this is not just mere advice
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 3:40 AM UTC
Her poems are
little slices
of ******
They are
full of malice
and
premeditation.
Her weapons
can be found
in a Websters
or "Planned parenthood" center.
Softly and then
savagely she
slaughters you
with lullaby,
prose and
suction.
Dangerous
is she,
the killer
with words.
She stands
with abortion,
a homicidal
maniac with
no soul.
She doesn't
even spare
the unborn
from her
satanistic
poetry.
She's a
cold blooded
murderer
that hides
behind
irresponsibility
and lies.
written by me... ..
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 7:59 PM UTC
Jumping into this moment
without premeditation
I finally give out-
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Out of all the things in this world to fear,
Most of us are afraid to love.
We feel like we've been set ablaze,
Never to raise from ash,
But we've only felt the burn.
It was your turn.
You were meant to be broken,
Only to prove how durable you are.
A smooth sea does not make the sailor.
So take every last one of those toxic thoughts
Put them all in a box and light a match
Because that is not what you are.
You are the culmination of everything before you,
And everything you endure,
Thus making you the vessel of love.
If the people who created you
No longer reside side by side,
Just remember that the entire universe
Went out of its way to send two souls
Through eventual agony
Just for the opportunity to bring you upon this Earth.
You never asked to be born,
You didn't request to live,
So why would you spend your entire being
Questioning why you're here.
Give yourself a purpose to this world.
They can only guide you, but you,
You are the only person you truly have to listen to.
There is everyone else in this world, and there is you.
You can take everything that you've heard,
The compliments, the ridicule,
The encouragement, the hindrance,
And then how it all effects how you live your life
Is how you choose to react to it.
Prove them all, right and wrong.
This is hardly poetry at all, I know
But I don't care if anyone feels this,
This is how I feel.
When this began, there was no premeditation
As to how the structure of this would go.
I merely pour myself out like a kettle
Onto this digital loose leaf for me.
As time goes on, I'll grow morose
For no apparent reason.
The subconscious haunts us.
The weight of the world,
The burden of childhood,
And the load of adulthood
Will wear your head down
Until your teeth become the remnants of sidewalk chalk,
And when that happens, play hopscotch.
There isn't much in this world to look to,
So you make **** sure that it is you.
You, you bodacious, beautiful being that you are.
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 1:02 PM UTC
Idiocies, flagrantly rotten hearts, such stupid ****
Numb skull niceties of chumps, chimps pimping us
Serving subterfuge, lucidly playing dumb
In life's dark cauldron now overrun, brimming with
Premeditation and enemy minds, a convict's ***** on the side.
Inception & loss by way of the gun, itches to **** to get rich
Eager harbingers of calamity and pain—terrorists…
Never feels not ashamed, brainwashed school-shooting kids
Crude excuse for players haters games, cheat & takes (life)
Empty of wisdom, belly aching snakes eats tail & world alike.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 2:52 AM UTC
●●●
*all of
a sudden
without
premeditation
the heart took
a decision
to involve
with someone*
◆◆◆
*although he
in return
received
discountenance
he couldn't be jilt even
one can termed
it passion
of adoration to her*
◆◆◆
*someone
can say devotion
for orison
although
she could neither
show never
depict any
kind of adhesion*
●●●
© deovrat 19-06-2018
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 12:55 PM UTC