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patty m Nov 2015
A sheath of skin slips from the moon.
It falls gathering speed
through the houses of stars, hurtling toward earth.

In the eyes of a dream, I lie in my bed
fighting off birth pains.
Through an obscure misty cloudland
a feeling so deep, drags me down.

What scheme chooses me as its receptacle?

Suddenly a face congeals
surrounded by celestial bodies,
Stars shimmer from threads
across its microscopic skin.
Freezing, it tries transferring my heat,
but finds that we are two elements trapped in one body.
Dark matter, dark energy trapped in the prison
of my gravity; but you
imprison me as well,
stripping me of light.
I strain to get away, but my body is the host
you seek shelter in.

Cocooned I feel the world rush by.
over pylons in the river, holding
castles in the sky, and further still,
to dark tracks, and cold and distant stars
reminding me of treacherous winters.

Then the slow unwinding begins.
and I am brought to perdition,
a freezing hell where I can't restrain my desolation

Suddenly a far off clamor
opens night to mirrored light.
Pure ecstasy warms my skin
vibrating like strings of the cello.
In the shimmer of Luna all things
glow mercurially silver.
We climb outer space,
held in your orbit.

A face in a skylight cuts off my oxygen.
Now your sparkling essence becomes luminous and liquid
and I am one more disposable body..

All the doors are shut,
I open each in turn;
finding mornings years ago, climbing into my parent's bed,
snuggling up all warm and cuddly.

Weariness, drags me down,
I sense dislocation as time vanishes.
Pulling me through a wormhole
a star falls, taking me with it,

I touch Terre firma, emitting a sigh.
wan, dazed, and suddenly alone.

Depleted I look heavenward,
and see the Man In The Moon smiling down,
just before .
my feeble light dies.
Willow Sophie Jun 23
If you remove a silver sterling blade
from a sheath of thick leather,
you either make an oath
or make a killing.
Zoe Mae Jan 2018
Why am I always afraid
I can't figure why
Is it cuz this bed I've made
Feels like a coffin in the sky

Floating over crowds alone
I never feel connected
This place doesn't seem like home
And I always get rejected

I may look human just like you
With two legs underneath
Two arms that don't know what to do
Wrapped round me like a sheath

A mouth that opens, words come out
Sometimes in a faint whisper
Other times I scream and shout
In the mirror at my sister

Two eyes that blink but do not see
A nose that does not smell
A feeling I'm not meant to be
And that this must be hell

If so then why is no one here
And I'm the only one
I feel my heart swollen with fear
And I just turn and run

Why am I always afraid
I just don't know why
Is it cuz this bed I've made's
My coffin in the sky
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2016
Her novelty has faded.
The stars hang back, distant ladies-in-waiting.
The night sky, their palace, is eclipsed by cities
Exploding with neon lights and grotesque trees.
She is too romantic.
Inch by inch, the black sheath is drawn back,
Revealing her smiling crescent.
She keeps a faithful orbit, and stirs
Blue oceans with long white fingers.

In her full sphere
She is a perfect spotlight,
Turning quiet snowy fields into
Illuminated empty stages.
She plays peek-a-boo, uncovering lovers
Gleaming whitely in the mouths
Of beds.
The beauty of entwined limbs
Exposed in her milky radiance.

She is the sun’s soft reflection.
He is never dim, and the black
Silk bag, a sort of corset,
Is ready to devour her again.
The wine is drained from the glass.
Her smile has become a slit.
The single pearl
Gulped,
Cloaked in shadow again.
"The Moon" is a poem from my poetry book, "Blood for Honey", available at Lulu.com and Amazon.
Michael Briefs Aug 2018
S       I found myself on a sheer rock face of desperate desire.
H      Holding on to her presence, in the danger of my devotion.
E       But I lost my grip. I missed a step
and my heart skipped a beat.
E       Then she was gone...
R      And I was loose! Plunging, caught by a force of nature.
R      White noise filled my ears and dread filled my heart.
O      In a primal panic, a terrible cry shattered the blackened sky.
C      Her face faded away and I was left reaching for a line --
K      Trying to avoid the rocks below.
F       I tried to find some way back up the mountain.
A      I clutched for the breath in my lungs,
C      The breath that was there before I fell;
E       That moment skipped over,
F       When I lost my grip and you were gone.
A      I carry the pain inside, searching for release.
L       But life goes on and on, day by day.
L       Outside, I am quiet, I hold a steady gaze.
L       But inside, the scars grind like metal on metal,
O      Between a rock and a hard place,
V      Until the edge within becomes razor cold.
E       Like a steely blade inside a silken sheath,
H      The knife buried beneath, poised to draw blood,
O      When the balance is tipped, the pressure too much.
P       Will I crash on jagged agony below or will I let go the dagger,
E       To reclaim the climb? To reach again and find her face, aloft...
Yup, this was the big one. The all-time heart break of my life, circa 1986. Just obliterated, shattered, vaporized me. I am still trying to find my way back up.
CA Guilfoyle Aug 8
Who writes of me
without pad nor pen
or scribes with sharpened knife
a belly of lies unfastened from sheath
deep that bores the core of heart?
Illusions swift they swim
in waves as shoals
spawned from
tiny minnows.
what a waste Dec 2017
The breeze is always too brief.
If it were up to me, I'd flee this breath and cease to be.
Photosynthesize the seconds through the leaves
then turn them into questions I'd pleasantly grieve.
His peace fits a sheath in case the routine is to deceive.
Man made me think hence I'm broken to the bleak.
Greet silence with a smile like, "Hi, I'm dying to be quiet.
Pull me apart for the slightest, I promise you I wont fight it."
Zywa Nov 2018
You can't see it
in the room, not on the floor
you can't see it anymore
      
in my sheath, the wound
of his blind attack
it's over, I am
      
myself, my body
washed, my home recaptured
ready for the fight
      
with you, whoever you are
you follow, until I release you
until I release myself

it is my bed, my belly
your pleasure has to wait
for what I want

because I didn't want it
not see, not feel, not remember
I wandered over the ceiling

the nothing of nowhere
I was not there, not at home
in this room, on this floor
Collection Bruises
Sutherland Oct 2018
Tick,
Tock.

The world goes round,

oblivious to sound.

We ride its spin,

until our sun goes down.

Tick,
Tock.

What have I done?
Rode the pillars of fun.

Spent my last dime,
should I turn back and run?

Tick,
Tock,

The scythe leaves its sheath.
What does fun equate?
It's the end of the world,

don't be late.

Tick.
Gary Brocks Aug 2018
He wrote of the light of the world,
a testament, a lamp to illuminate
the place from which he came —

    I saw his lighthouse coalesce
    out of the cloaking mist, its blade
    shearing the sheath of darkness.

    I inhaled the dusk bloom scent
    - Four O’Clock Flower, Poinsettia, Frangipani -
    beguiled by a road, undeterred
    by calls in the night, the rain, the unknown way.

    I sang with one thousand night-drunk tree frogs
    proclaiming an equatorial cycle to the stars,
    choristers intoning a chant of existence.

    I rode balanced between
    the cycling engine's torque and the
    reflective cast of my foreign skin.

    I felt the grip of ignominy constrict the stir
    of my drink, amongst hands toasting
    the crush of entitlement’s bearing.

    I walked where people dwell, and stop
    to greet and tell news of the market
    or of their nets, bearing the sea’s returns.

    I tasted the song in his speech,
    a seasoned stew, unshackling the tongue,
    to ring like the steel in a drum —

a tapestry unfurled: a world
paced by sirens of wind and wave,
embroidered on the earthbound side
of heaven's abiding blanket.

Copyright © 2017 Gary Brocks
180730F
Martial Teacher Dec 2017
Life is nothing but chains and shackles
Our wings clipped
Unable to fly high in the sky
Unable to have our pride
Unable to have our determination
Unable to live proud of yourself
Forever shackled down
Forever caged
Forever forgotten about
Your image is never seen
Your name unknown to many
Your life story forgotten by many
Your family no longer remembers.

Shackled down until the day you die
A slave to the shackles
The writings on the wall are your only companion
The devils wicked laugh
Trying to live
Trying to breathe
It's just a must
To spread your wings with pride.

Cut the shackles that hold you down
Burn the cage that traps your free spirit
Leave a heritage for people to remember you by
Leave the writings on the wall to guide the next generation
For one day
They might also be able to
Spread their wings with pride
Something that i could not do
They will achieve for me
You may die
But people will learn
The foolish ones were them
For they locked away brilliance
That could have shined bright.

Spread your wings with pride
Soar to the sky
Achieve what you can
Be proud of what you made for yourself
The body is the sword
The wind is the sheath
Spread your wings
Like a solitary sword
Cutting through mountains
Cleaving the sky in half
Will you then be able to
Spread your wings with pride.
H E L E N A Dec 2018
Petals, oh these metals.

They fall,

Paling.

Blackened.

Dyed crimson.

A celebratory death dance,
I have found a new advance.

And the brilliant yellow sun,
How it slinks in the night!

So comfortable,
I have left it behind.

Toxic were the tendrils
that kept me where it stood.

A million stinging nettles,
In my heart, they took root.

The pink quills of Cyanea,
the futility of their purpose.

They don't always wither away,
So I've set them all aflame.

Romeo's sheath, Hermes' fool-
Treating my human tendencies as a tool.

Forget this fragility we call love,
Cut the strings and rise above.

Past the smoke and ashes,
it will come clearer through these lashes.

If my woven words fail to reach you,
Nothing else will ever do.
I fell in love so I began to write. I might be falling out of love as I recreate our plight.
zebra Jun 2017
I can be so tender with you, but then the monster emerges like guano out of a bats *** my precious and hes so hungry for your blood
He wants to take a razor to you . He loves your crying. He's excited by your sunken brooding face, sheet white flesh and sallow eyes.  
She gets down on her knees holding her self pert and brave for love's cruelty knowingly she is his play dough blood **** doll in a white death gown of weeping lacerations, his sweet blood blossom splashing
Her splayed pose tells him she's made to cut like red plush butter, her flesh his pull apart pastry, her bones his marrow.

He slowly works her down from merciless blood letting and bludgeoned raw piercing .
But the part that excites him the most  is when she sneers at him hissing, the blade to her throat as she lifts her head high exposing her throat without hesitation
His panicked hungry kisses and bites unceasing as she smiles and suffers knowing her twisted dream of living deaths dark labyrinth is near. Her **** gapes wet, leaking with blood and dark waters from being sodomized cruelly.  Her **** a drooling tortured swollen mouth, a river of blood
His bubble of poison in her, ruptures deep.
Both hyena feral ... He knows she's ready and holds her head down, a wooden block shoved between the back of her neck forcing her chin to jut out and exposing her swan throat .
He pulls out a box cutter
Is this what you need my darling ?
Is it you sweet **** ?
She smiles eagerly, eyes glaring, poised, noble, legs spread wide, back arched, soaking with crimson copper sweat
Watch me writhe you *******, unwind the little *****, she demands, grinning like a hell cat on drugs she holds fast ready for her departure to some crepuscular eternal afterlife

dark cupid witch
legs tied to throat
devil ***** twitch
******* in a mote
i've got the itch
feet scorched in rope
hot ******* *****
hells dark pope

oh dragon man
take my life
unwind me slow
i'm summer ripe
DO IT,,, DO IT... DO IT.... she screamed like a wind whipped howling tree in a blaze of flames.

Very well and as he slipped his long arterial sheath deep up in side her womb and stroked tenderly
He called oh my sweet darling pressing that blade deep through her soft buttery skin...Splitting arteries, sinews and flesh recklessly as she shuttered, her face a wild eyed Hiroshima convulsing in heaping waves, bloated with the filthy viscous red **** of Dragool
His blood a drug venomous, hallucinogenic and ecstatic

She spiraled dizzily into a primeval black watery abyss.
In a fury, he slit his **** wide, and engorged her raw shapeless mouth with his dreadful Scorpius elixir, door way to the dark life.
He raged at her, drink you sweet hell *****, **** pie, fat blister, and i make you my ***** consort for all eternity, loving you under black winged cape, sweet princess of death unpeeled.
Come he said, we are night storms of hell...We **** for love and you will die a thousand deaths my delicious blood bell I shall **** your soul away and turn you to the darkest midnight

vampiress *****
dark girl feeding
the sun is no more
loves the bleeding
Lawrence Hall Dec 2018
The one-off bag is by Louis Vouitton
The sheath dress by Dolce & Gabbana
The low-top shoes by Christian Louboutin  
The vaporisation is by Sukhoi

Evening wear goes with biologicals
Retro pantsuits with a casual bomb
Alice Archer jeans for a weekend massacre
Jonathan Simkhai swimwear for an ocean boil

Ohhhhh, yeahhhhhhhh…

She turns every head when she enters the room
But The People’s Army delivers the BOOM
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.


Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
Daniel K Jan 12
Give it a thought,
At least one more time.
Let us consult
The one advisor
Before we draw a conclusion
To our, what seems to be,
Incomplete memoir.

The sword taken
Out of its sheath,
Determined to repel all persuasions.
The dreams we dreamt
To see the many stars
Is now left as just a dream.

Only toil left for me
Is to convince myself to
Believe this is the plan of the One.
However, the ***** that sustains my life
Aches to see the present
Becoming only a history.
Dreaming again to see
The brighter star laid before our eyes.
I bid you
Farewell.
Robert C Ellis Oct 2018
Nodules braid flesh on my chest
from the rest
of cometbone rupturing
God's sheath of satin fabric covering the sin coded DNA helix for ATE
with porcelain teeth
and the sunlight between,
that that shows my ruins of childhood as if i breathed.

I am stream;  As if God dreamed
Andrew Rueter Jan 2018
You undersell me
And overwhelm me
Your lovely tidal wave
Cuts like a bridal blade
Your knife slices so deep
It drags on my bone
Your knife must meet sheath
For me to find home

Your blade
Is high grade
So sharply acute
It cuts all roots
I didn't realize emotions went this deep
You use your blade to slaughter sheep
If they don't survive your brain surgery
Or your engrained perjury

You're the blade
But you don't hunt vampires
I want you to stay
And light my heart's fire
Don't Wesley snipe at me
Or point your knife at me
Just hold me
So I forget the old me
Cut out what you don't like
Until I made only of light
The process is painful
But you change me
Cut from every angle
You rearrange me
You make improvements
By cutting grooves in

I'm so afraid I may disappoint you
Because I have already anointed you
My king
I wear your ring
That severs my fingers
Making me useless
When so much love lingers
But I can't prove this
There is a ****** blade at my throat
While our love precariously floats
Cecil Miller Oct 2018
I've been on the edge of my seat
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.

Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.

Where is love and raising hell;
Spitting fire in a cheap motel;
Angry friction in the eyes
Of desire, and fearless rides
On wheels of fury in the night
That burn the roads and holds me tight?

Cover me with intoxication
Like a sheath of skin over blade.

Where is greed and desperation,
And running from them to each other?
I remember when the living was real,
And the passion was always a thrill,
Anchored in the pounding hearts
That were bound to top the charts.

Blowing wilder than the wind,
I'm never going home again.

I've been on the edge of my seat,
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.

Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.

Is love born out of some kind of need?
Is the feeling still somewhere in me?
I need to be a bullet fired
Entangled in what has transpired,
And wispered like a scream on fire.
Climbing night time rage and wire,
Two for one and sacred pyer.
Acid venom and supplier.

Running like a theif in the night
Hiding in the briar from the light.

I've been on the edge of my seat,
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.

Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.

...And it's fast.

...And it's strong.

...And it's done.

...And it's gone.
I wrote this just this early morning and in one sitting. One question, When I shared it to my facebook account, the word "hell" was automatically redacted - why? Fix it. I edit and censor myself enough as it is.
There is a variation of two cadences in this one that don't always fall into a sequencial format. As my writing style is kind of free-flowing; musical and organic, it just turns out that way.
I haven't set it to music exactly, but as I hear it in my head, it is definately going to be a song.
I'm into bad ones.
Abyss Dec 1
There resides a monster within my heart
One with daggers instead of teeth
Swords, as nails, without a sheath.
This monster has onyx eyes
Paper skin as white as snow
As cold as ice.
This monster is my subdued rage
My muted anger
What makes me age.
It torments my soul in all sorts of ways
From lonely nights to freezing days.
It's cut off my tongue so I won't scream
For God's sake it won't even let me dream!
Every night it visits my slumbering corpse
It taunts me, it haunts me,
It shakes me, it wakes me
I can not scream, I can not breath.
All of my nights are slumberless
These tormenting notions are numberless.

Dear monster, please go
Leave me alone and take my woe
I can not bear your presence
Your sight, your sence, your smell
Haunts me.
It feels like the devil himself taunts me.
I do not know what else to say,
How else to scream
Or cry for help
I just hope that one day
You'll get bored and go away,
Go! give me some ecstasy,
All I need is a slight feeling of ataraxy.
A small glimpse of my tortured soul.
Abigail Jan 26
Give me a body, fresh like a ripened apple, the mind of a philosopher,
prayer and faith to sheath the gutting blade of doubt and ***** the flame of hellfire.
Give me love, deeper than the soil beneath our feet,
and a parting kiss when the day is undone by night, the light undone by dark and this temporal life undone by death.
Vic Miller Nov 30
There was a young man from Blackheath sir,
Who carried his tool in a sheath, sir,
    With a practiced quick draw
    He would see, he would saw,
But he always wound up underneath her!
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