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Shadow Dragon Sep 2018
Three orange lights
waiting in a cue.
Warm, pudgy and sweating.
Squeezing the last drop
of pure sweetener
down your throat.

Delicious syrup
growing and spreading
on the finger tips.
Feeding the eager.
Melting bright nectar
dropping down the thighs.

Saliva sprinkels
on the piano lips.
Playing chants
of **** and thirst.
Lavish liberation
buzzing for more bees.
zebra Aug 2018
the witches
they don't take no ****

feminists with a wand
made from a femur
wrapped in ***** hair,
fingernails, and spit

no
not good little passive girls
although amused by a good spanking
for laughs that titillate
from a red wicked dicked old man
with slippery fireballs
like a spicy cherry pepper
that slurps filths coves
through a black tongue
and open-mawed bite

******'s queens
oiled torsos and bond fires
drenched ornaments for laughing snakes
that spread like spider webs
while the whips flash licks
hells tender blood kiss

insatiable prayers
and
******* rituals
mixed like bones in broth
with intricate sigils and saliva red
menstruum her holy sacrament
that shapeshift crones into young girls prancing
and bind water to stones

her spell can ***** your skull
like a mules kick
and melt your eyes
like nuclear skies

no
the witches
they don't take no ****
zebra Jul 2018
come sit on my words
dear reader
like outdoor furniture
for thin hips

while spooky poets peer up under gaudy umbrellas
nervous about making a good impression

all of your hosts
snuffed candles burning-out
for metaphors and alliterations

begging
one poem at a time
for a light
that we will never see

go ahead
antagonize me
you, who live in an idealized passed
fear the future
and ignore the present
while i hide like a little girl  
behind the bare legs of poetry

that will show you!

my head a hanging web
that feels words like cosmic storms
tumbling stone heads
onto boulders of terracotta shards

my ink smells like stinky saliva
a dragging wet tongue of ambiguity
a kabuki fight to the death
unwinding paper machete viscera
and plucking out make-believe hearts
while gobbling fortune cookies containing  
jokes, platitudes, and fortunes
that never come true
in a dreamland of *******'s

i'm trying to break something in you!
Saden Jul 2018
Poetry is for time takers.
The stoics - who sit and look at their glass, for some time, after swallowing.
Then getting swallowed.
The one and onlys - who know every line and dent in their cieling and read them like hyroglyphs.
The listeners - who hear every instrument and, even more so, every pause within a song.
The thinkers - who won't take an answer for an answer, but only for another question.
Poetry isn't simple and poets far from.
But who's a poet?
We don't decide.
A decision, has hidden, an opinion.
Which is the saliva of personal ego in the morning.
See, we only know.
We know where poetry comes from and it's from the inexplicable.
Felt, and only so.
Get lost in the vastness of what we are and what we're in.
Then watch closely to what follows.
Stop and feel the rise of your lip's corners.
E                                                       ­                      .
      N                                  ­                              S    
             J                                                    I
          ­           O                                  H
                            ­     Y            T
And then you'll know what we know.
poetry is nothing but us coming to a closer understanding of life and that's why it feels so good to share and grow closer.
what a waste Nov 2015
Whirlpool of insanity
the beast stands coy
bound to humanity
A ****** and her toy
Fear its brutality

Our fists churn like
tides of a blood-lusted sea
Saliva soaked spite
rhapsodizing over gluttony

It's never enough
we wan't it all
The world we corrupt
a ****** and her rag doll
Matriarch of the puppets
King Panda Jul 2017
I fear.
I fission.
I flow.
like a sponge,
I become aqueous
when wiping blood or saliva.
like a finger, I lose myself in rings of prints.

I am the ography
of space loosely tied to the
end of a carrot. detach me from
ice and I float to the other side of the island.
I wave at ships passing night or day, captains
drunk or sober, buoys clean or covered in mucky ****.

save me.
I am losing my
mind on these stairs
crawling the ceiling, these
riches made of paper, these children
using liters of glue to stick themselves to
each other.

everyone is stuck.
everyone is covered in barnacles.
everyone is design on my pine tree’s needled hooves.

*a horse gallops four at a time. they name it “power” for the dreams it has of stormy women.
zebra Sep 2018
I posted filthy voluptuous poems you should never read
you love starved children of nauseating virtue

always thinking
are they good enough
am I good enough
are they good enough
am I good enough
so goody goody
putting your best foot forward
like empire of the sun
a wanna be picture perfect
of dancer **** love and flexed abs

have you ever seen beauty in a silky nightmare
have you  ever seen the monster of deprivation in heavens promise?

we speak of private things
we should never talk about
about vailed women
and their terrible secrets
and about myself who remains no longer a secret to myself

somewhere i went off the track
like a  daisy chain saw of honesty
to ensure you knew i was sick
a sick **** with a trick
as if i ate some ****** up hallucinogenic' s
making me spill my obsessions all over you
like some weird perfumed *****
down a swirling rainbow toilet
that turns out to be only jelly and whipped cream
wrapped in colored ribbons on cellophane tampons

i feel like  having *** or going to the toilet in public
while waving my hands up in the air
screaming yahoo i'm free
to blow to kingdom come
the temple of normalcy
you know
the church of rose gardens, cemeteries and deprivations
except of course for the sneers, smears
and self loathing vanilla demons
who wear long see through dresses and crosses
like dash board plastic virgins
with bobbing heads
that make hissing sounds about sin

i confess
i'm attracted to the darkest women
strange *******
and  ******
the stranger the better
who shake their butts
like hoodoo enchanted show girls
doing what they shouldn't do
crying and scrying like cooing moons calling
"drink me like ****** Mary
daddy **** lollypop"
all inky tats and razorblade ouchies

or
you can join those
covered in white collared black as death habits
begging the invisible *** cake in paradise
waiting for mercy and a little ****
that never comes
stuck in an empty
loveless bar of crucifixes that only serves up theology

oh baby
***** dreams do come true
pink ****** ***** gladly widen their haunches
like **** without boots
not caring if they go to ****
playin
like a joy ride of fiddle **** sticks
all freaky tongues and tingling licks
thick saliva multi lingual blow jobs
lathering flashing lipped saliva for the squirt  
with fiery wet hypodermic kisses
that make screams
like creamed upleaping lava and ash
for a million hungry sexed up twisting tongues
in occult ecstasy
fecundating shrouds of steamy clouds
in stained red black lighted rooms
with cherub crowned *****
and their drooling snatches buttered ****

eat quivering
like fowl mouthed piranhas
crying more raw meat please
while you drag your perfect person visage
into hollow caves of despair
cold and lonely

so you forlorn love struck weeping
horney pathetic scarecrow
socially engineered robots
if you want love
like heated buttery waffles with sweet jam
just give your self away like slutty putty
to **** criminals and *** addicted pervs  
until
you feel someone swallow you whole
soul and all
and lick their lips
like your their cherry pie

then look passed your
rats nest of pride and exhaustive approval list
and love them back
like free beer
bang their brains out
be their ***** and make them yours
in the mad house of love
of warped shimmering mirrors, straight jackets, and squeezy insertions

and if one day they don't appreciate your imperfect perfection
if they weaponize like critic's
teach them respect
shove it where they breathe
lick your wounds
be brave
throw them in the trash bin of history
and move on

Eros and Venus
take a million forms

look around
your swimming in a giant bowl of broken hearts
hungry mouths, drenched ***** and hard *****

you whimpering little beasts
dress to ****
undress to live

its a movable feast
advice to the lovelorn young
thank you to Lora Lee for the line
" swirling toilet rainbows"
zebra Sep 2018
it's the management
here to inform you
your **** has been hacked

we know what your thinking
what you hide
we are all up in your business
like cyber terrorist's

don't ruin your life with to much self respect
we are all watching you *******
to mamma mia meets a hundred shades of crimson
and fight club blood ****
while you ***
screaming
ooooooooh god
licking
holes and poles
like a pig at a trough
praying to be handcuffed and on your knees
sweating and hysterical, a red moon struck **** face
high on drugs
in a dream better then this life has to offer

life is full of yogas
***** pony position
bouncy bouncy

im the light in your darkness
i know what you do
i want pieces of you, you wont show anyone else
your sickness, is my own
you are my love *****
turning me *******
who loves to hurt you

who's the *****
who's the switch

your flawless

now
cry me a river
move a little bit faster and to the left
your **** is a cartoon
**** grinning emoji
bleeding shrieking
fu fu fu fu *******
your brains running out of your eyes

gimmie all your venom
***** movie poem's
*** tongue and *****
your mouth like hemoglobin jewelry
saliva diamonds

kiss that
you'll never go back
squealing smooth heat
breathing winds of perfume
love and pain
united by
tragedy and desire
by
the grotesque and the beautiful
like thirst holds stones

stop crying

you know baby
you look your best on the toilet bowl
shameless
a delicious little *******
that holds me close to life
like a baby to the ****

please
stop banging on the door
im using this stall
Thank you
The Management
neo surrealism/ surveillance state ***
Azaria May 2018
my feelings
rolled up inside
of you
like your saliva
on the creases of
a backwood
your continuous
laughter
like holding
in smoke
only exhaling
when you
say my
name
forsake me, anemone
forsake me
I´ll paint every other
flower red
while you stain away my tears

forsake me, anemone
forsake me
you never gave me permission
to only find God in you
you´re not to blame

the sun´s dull filter
a heart next to her name
so I´m drunk
with his saliva
on my face
(your hand
like an invisible string)
forsake me anemone
forsake me
zebra Aug 2017
in a taut black dress
you brush by me  

you are
dark summer fruit simmering hot
a sopping estuary  
i gather you into me  
you cascade like an undulating cat
giggles like trembling gelatin

cherry kiss lips  
agile muscle shifting  
pleating like soft furs
against my thunderous chest
your tremulous tongue rupturing
like spiced chrysanthemums from heaven  

i inhale your lavender breath  
your saliva melts stormy mouth up-leaping

i eat your soul
and paradise *******
licking honey rainbows
filling my mouth a thousand times  
and a thousand more

its never enough when some one has your heart

suffocate me in your drooling mouth
your body is my aviary
and hot house of man eating plants

i run to your teeth
beautiful cleavers gleaming
shivering with excitement  
from your dragging bites
my blood languishing at your feet

have no regard for me
eat my love  
i live to be swallowed by you  

i hold you through the night
all dire raptures
dark in mystic paradise  
tangled in your hair

may mourning never find us
torrid scorched from flames infernal
black candles uncrossing pasts
devils **** your adoring toy  
kisses never ceasing
hot weather nostrils steaming
your flexed body writhes
a royal contortion  
your heart cleaving
so that i may like a sun  
consume your darkest edges
bitter chocolate so sweet  
to fill griefs mouth with ecstasy
my heart aches like a siren of echoes  
calling to you  
shaking your gates down  

you are a titanic gravity  
and i'm forever tumbling  
like eternal burning ashes through cobalt night
it is a steep decent into heavens arms
as i crumble
all smashing diamonds
and hissing flames
into open wounds weeping glitter

your chin jutting
throat stretched
while pulling the roots of your hair
exposing arteries pulsing
stuffing myself on your marrow
you plume like a volcanic moon
showering me with spooling stars
and butter **** kisses

ill turn you into my glistening little *****
all swollen tears for more  
rituals of adoration
kisses like monsoon rains
i look up at your supple form
your haunches my temple  
worshiping you
smothered in heavens jaws
you cascading ******-less  
in a taut black dress
Sne Sep 2018
I do not detest you but i will never forgive you,
For what you have done to me,
How can I forget such thing?
When I first met up with you, I got mesmerized
I just thought I am the only one in your heart.
Hoping that our love bonds will be tightened forever

The stream of contentment was flowing between us,
And we were dreaming of each other
Meditating on each other at all time
Oh yeah! We were like saliva and tongue.

Our love was blazing and blazing more
But now, no even small pieces of coal,
It seems as the  fire reed,
That blazes in high flames,
And ending up losing power.

Our love withered as the dessicated leaf,
You have broken my heart unexpected,
This pain will not be relieved.
FIGIVENUS Oct 2018
Two Hearts But A Single Beat.
I lied there waiting and excited.
One hand softly griping your left thigh.
Faster. Harder. Pacing.
I ponder for a moment while I let your warm breath exhale against my earlobe.
“I live for this“.
I love to hear you moan against my head. Tounges’ wrapped within a mess of lips, breaths, and saliva.
I know this feeling all too well. This addiction that I can’t abstain from. You don’t understand me. It’s hard. When I’m close to you my head becomes a jungle. Your presence is enough to drive me wild. I’m ******. You’ve driven me mad with **** and love combined in one. I’m throbbing. I want you so bad and you have yet to know my true nature towards you...
You’re already mine, but I’ve been dying to make you mine in a different way. I’m going to ruin you ... make crawl back tongue drooling for more.
My **** cannot contain itself.
I want to bend you over a whisper taunting things into your ear while I slide ******* in the back and grip my hand around your shaft.... slowly making you ooze *** from the tip... I want you to ******* beg. Tell me how bad you want it, want this, want me... pant in my ear until there’s nothing but broken cries left. Push me away even though you know it’s what you ******* crave the most .. let me explore your darkest parts and lick every crevice. I want you to the point where it’s only our sweaty bodies against each other yearning for another lick, taste, spread, touch.... **** your addicting. This may very well be my downfall.
My love runs deep I can't stop myself.
zebra May 2018
**** bomb
monsoon girl
thunder roll with falling arms
the war of hot ****
flicker hive
i take your head while your mouth rims
chatters and wimps
your feet kicking
limbs slant wide
all desperate sliding
my ribs infernos
i'm your
BBQ
your my hot pepper stew
on a killer bed
your soul
eager torn clouds
a dragging nail tongue
sends you alabaster screams
like a winged sun drinking blood
your saliva diamond drool
black braids around ghost throat
a hemophilic dance
your center a wheezing fortress
my foot prints on your face
and
muddy kisses
that cant wait
adult
Felix Sladal Apr 2017
Yawning mouth of the city beckons
Glittering jagged teeth tearing into
Passing souls
Walking on slick black tounges
Sand beaten breath fogs windowed eyes
The beast we come to love
Even as we live incased in it's cavities
The plaque in the grime of eroding gums

When did you last brush your teeth
Your buildings, starting to turn gray
Your tongue a tad flavorless
Do you grow old, fat, and tired?
Or is that just us?

Changes float on the breeze so subtle
You'd never see them unless you left
People slowly turning to dust
Blowing away
But everything still stands
As if nothing ever happened
We live our lives in nooks and crannies
Ghosts pressed between the glass
Tiptoeing enamel streets

Plush gold chairs and minty fresh
Oh peppermint fresh
Rain trickled saliva slips over your
swinging silk face
Breath, taunting tints of lavender
Your back is straight
Stressed crowsfeet pupils shine
Wake up tomorrow to find today
Your eyes are brown but green
Your mouth is wide but tight
Your grin not as cheap as the others

Everyone starts to bleed together
All traits the same
So very different
You weren't drinking mint
Nor lavender
Freeze frame in memory
Pick and choose what we see today
Who to be yesterday
Next week pickle plum I'll jump through a fire just to feel me, feel you

We're running from something
Day to day
Feels like time, might be ourselves
Your shoulders are curved, the slightest of slouches
Your eyes are oh so green and teeth so straight
Thin lips and a long face
Once opon a time I almost knew you
But not today not ever
Self chained straining towards freedom
But happiness wrinkles you cheeks
Self imprisonment won't bruise the will
Don't listen to me, your far more free than I'll ever be
Whistle to the stars
Shrug your shoulder at life's questions
Look it in the eyes with your peridot irises, tell it you've got this
I wish I know what you were drinking
Rainwater and honey

Your eyes are weary brown
Rosy cheeks blush on bronze
Hair shifts to straw spun gold
You haven't aged but I feel so old
Going places while I stand still
Doesn't feel the reverse though that's the truth, if only in theory
You paint life, I paint paper
I maybe younger but I'm wilting faster.
Is it wrong that I wanted to kiss you
For a millisecond and no more
Atune to a time warp lost in free space

Green eyes Brown
Rigged lines graceful limbs
I'm a overcooked noodle
With a halfcooked plot
And everyone seem so put together
I'll poor the pesto on myself and call
me done.
Eugene OR some time near me birthday 2016
Chelsea K Jul 2017
It's the first time we meet.

I can't get a read on that sweet summer smile, or the words that drip like thick robes of gold honey; soft-spoken and seemingly slow motion, a quite complicated question pours viscously from your lips.

You ask me, "What is your name?"

Now honestly, I considered honesty. Truthfully, I prefer anonymity, but it's considered rude to not share some glimpse of identity. Albeit reluctantly, I must decide: Do I introduce myself as "Chelsea"? Or as "A Window-Pane Made of Glass Too Thin"? Well honestly, honesty isn't always the best policy.

It's our first date -
Instead of worrying about which outfit I choose, I worry about the disclaimer I wear on my arms. I worry about the first time your gaze inevitably falls upon the self-inflicted displays of pain that dress my paper-thin skin. I worry, will you see a warning sign that reads "DANGER: Do not touch"? I wonder, will you listen?

Or will you choose to swallow me whole, a bitter pill with a list of flaws longer than the side effects of your favorite antidepressant. Do the benefits outweigh the risks, do you take a trial of me to see if I'll make you feel better or feel worse? Do you pour me down the drain when you find out I'm not good enough?

It's our first kiss -
A moment tainted by guilt that the sweet taste I leave behind on your lips is not saliva, but antifreeze. Drink me down and I'll poison you from the inside-out, and there will come a day that I'll be the taste you'd do anything to erase from your mouth.

It's our first fight -
And then our second, and our third...
The sand is slipping through our hourglass too fast, as we drag our blood-stained feet through a wasteland of eggshells and glass. All that remains is a crimson trail of mistakes, meandering back to the spotless place we started at.

It's the first time we meet, and
You ask me for my name. Silence.
Should I introduce myself as "Chelsea"? Or as "A Window-Pane Made of Glass Too Thin". If I'm being honest with myself, I go with the latter...and you'll walk away to avoid the mess that comes after.
Heather Moon Feb 2014
Dad
So my father,
he goes into the store to buy his $10 a pack for cancer
while he still attempts to hide his addictions from my sister and I.
Now I don't think it would bother me oh so much
but his frugal attempts to sweep the dust under the rug is like using a mop instead of a broom...
We see the crumbs leading to your door from the cookie jar.
Yes, we all have flaws, but you,
you
weave shamefully through the under layers of darkness, devoid of any resemblance to a heavenly nature, you fall like a night creature weaseling through crooked creaky cement alleyways, your gremlin spirit set ablaze.

LIFE, I revel and roll within the taste of each second, I run the grain of life across my tongue until saliva fills the creases and far reached corners of my mouth. I tap my finger to my lips like a true virtuoso, a connoisseur of life. Life.

My father's addictions completely derail me,
not even so the notion itself, I mean yes, but his blatantly obvious ways of avoiding confrontation not only from us, but also from himself.
Like Pinocchio's nose, my fathers back gets hunched more and more, his breath quickens when we draw close.
Father you are not prey, in fact if there be a predator, it is you unto yourself. I can no longer help but to roll my eyes when you tell me for the fourth time in the day that you must take out the trash so as to have a smoke.
I am fed up, excuse me sir, the trash will still be there no matter how many times you take out the "trash" .
The only "thing" that won't be left after you're repeated offenses of the benign chore will be you're dignity because you are so naive and ignorant in the way you dodge truth. How can you live respectfully when you don't respect yourself? Nor do you value what you are spitting out to your own daughters.
I am addicted to life,
I breathe it in with passion,
I embrace the truth within me
and have an eagerness to expand my wisdom.
How come father you do something that you know is a betrayal to yourself? How come you hide away in that old bar, the one with the flashing(flickering) light on the outside, dingy worn out red leather(plastic)booths on the inside, the bar located in some musty  little hole in you're brain and a blind spot on you're heart.
You sit in the back in a lonesome booth slumped like some chump, stuck in a stump, you ooze and wheeze not even grasping for air, no fight left within, you are like mucus, a toad melting into the ground. Sinister and swindling in the greed of you're gut. Your ***** mopey yellow eyes and the shameful acceptance as you indulge in the baths of life's luxuries whilst you poison your body, trash what you hold dear and continue to block out that little annoying voice.
The voice with the cracks in it,
worn out from you're games, the voice that nags and pleads. The one that catches you before you order another round, take another smoke break, the one that pulls you, tantalizes you with it's simple sweet natural charm in hopes of distracting you from your self harming ways.
The voice that chimes in the second you raise your fist to punch me. The voice that is screaming at you when you lock eyes with mine and can see my fear.
Yeah that voice, the little punk one that returns even after the crime of your actions has been committed.
After the music stops and it's just you and the world.
but even then
I don't think you will hear it.
You're living on the edge of the pavement father.
No you wont hear that voice, not when you're twisted and contorted into the sideways way of things. You killed that voice long ago, when you wound yourself deeper and deeper like a clock in time,
when you twirled yourself into that little empty pub, with a quiet pool table, with no hope, a sanctum of greed.
Yes, you're guilty, yes it was you.
It was you who killed the voice inside of yourself.
You killed it when you traded
your dignity and your truth
for yet another
$10 dollar pack of
emptiness,
lies,
and forfiet.
Ndolo Jun 2018
I haven't written in a while
The time it takes to swallow your thoughts and let them stew in your belly?
The only thing that'll come out is **** and ****
I'm so tired of being evocatively inspired and not have the words to say what I'm feeling accurately enough
I keep swallowing, swallowing
My words stick in the saliva that hydrates my lips
Cracked every time my tongue can't bathe them
swallow, swallow
till I can't anymore
till I can't fight anymore
then,

A swallow flew over head
Dave Legalisa Oct 2018
the only time he
told you he loved you
was when he pressed
his mauve lips to yours
and your tongue
got twisted inside
tasting the thick honey
he sipped between your thighs;

when his claws dug
deeper and deeper
into your muffled skin
making your body mottled
with purple patches and scratches
with rosy blood that hurt
so lovely like thorns of roses;

when his hands crawled
around your body and
his fingertips touched
the parts men should not touch;

when he
finally entered inside you,
penetrating the orifice
every man dreams of getting in;

when he kissed parts
other than your lips
licking your neck
tasting the sugar and caramel
that was your sweat;

when he clenched your belly,
squished it like what he did
to your breast
and to your horror
it felt like a knot
tightening the flesh.

it was when
the wails from your throat
were the words you
could only speak.
the groans and moans
served as phrases
when you couldn't spew well
the correct formula
to whisper the
sensation you felt.

the only way you could
tell him you loved him too
was him to work rough
but gentle,
to go harder and deeper
while his tongue
kept searching yours,
while your bodies clung
chest to chest and skin to skin
dipped above the soft foam
inside that chamber,
and
he did.

finally,
straining your legs apart-
only wider this time-
pushing strong forces against
the nest between your thighs,
collapsing his body,
singing moans and triumphs
as if he
just held the haven,
he whispered something drone
you also tasted
on his saliva,
"it's done" he said
and,
in that moment
when he stopped driving
and he pulled
his manhood stick back
from your nest,
you knew,
it only
was your body
that he wanted.
Graff1980 Dec 2018
I spent years
with poor circulation
nerve ends strangled
in abject agony,
following your insanity
while blaming myself
for the way
you obeyed your rage,
but I might be getting
a little bit better.
I might be
a little less bitter.

I spent years on fire
like a burning house
seeing every optimistic
inch of me
defeated and incinerated
by your incessant nagging,
and jack slapping.
Till, I nearly choked
trying to breathe easy.
When it took
two swallows
to catch my
anxious breath,
one gulp
then halfway down
another gulp
so, I didn't drown
in my own saliva.

Now my freedom
is a bitter sweet
symphony
and though others insist,
I do not need
you to be
in my life,
do not need
the present
or even the slightest hint
of past strife
to be happy
and complete.
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