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September Roses Jul 2018
Oh sickly poisonous flame
Darting back and forth
I hear you call my name
It's not what they think, for what it's worth

One slip of the finger
And a tingling sensation
Smells of gas linger
Now for use of personification:

Its seems that you love me
For you never let me go
I feel pitiful in your embrace
And it seems that you know

You always take control
And oh how I'm fascinated by your flame
Skin swells and pain holds
In this endless torture game
Nobody Aug 2018
What an appalling desire,
your heart beats so fast.
An unsettling ritual,
which refuses to pass.
A nagging numb need,
you must feel something;
go make yourself bleed.
Get it out, act now.
You wait for the great release.
One slice turns into more,
and you need it to hurt.
No one must notice,
hence the morbid allure.
You can’t stop the impulse,
once the fuse is lit.
You tremble with sickly delight,
after every slit.
You’re almost done,
carving your skin.
The pain seems gone,
but it won't be for long;
still for one moment,
you heard that sweet song.
Mr Shankley Dec 2018
He liked games during his youth.
Embodying past martyrs,
Departing from their carcass,
Sacrificing soul for truth.

But that sickly demon crawled,
Through cracks in mothers blind walls,
Dark and wild, he took the child,
Leaving him ruined, defiled.

“Sleeping, smiling, silent soul,
I see thy sight holds no sin,
See this game we all shall win,
Open your eyes, black as coal”
Jack L Martin Oct 2018
He stands next to her bedside
Her eyes closed to the world
Unaware of her surroundings
Unaware of his presence

It was three weeks since the accident
Her children did not survive
The other passenger that was in the car
In the other room, barely alive

The news crews have disappeared
The lawyers and judges on hold
Our attention spans have vanished
This story has gotten old

He extends his hands loving warmth
Gently below her breast
Wishing to feel her heart once more
Beating within her chest

A smile breaks his haunted face
As memories flow within,
Of life she shared with all her kin
Each victory, every sin.

The ache in her soul, it resonates loudly
The misery and pain that would follow
too many years of aches and recovery
Haunts when she wakes up tomorrow

He knows that he can take only one;
All the burden and nothing to gain
The power that's bestowed within him
He decides to relieve her of pain

His gentle hand caresses her cheek,
The devoted servant standing by
A shock of hope, an energy bolt
jolts life and she opens her eyes!

Un-amused, bruised, dazed and confused
The patient in complete disbelief
As if surprised, looks in his eyes
This man; the sickly heart thief

Her eyes filled with tears, her heart filled with fears
Not knowing of her dear children's fate
The man reassured, they both joined the herd
Their souls rest at God's pearly gate

She wanted to scream, in horror, it seemed
Not knowing at what's coming next
The very kind stranger who laid in a manger
Now stands at the pearly gate's steps

He reached out his hand and issued command
"You're safe now, your life is now free.
"You'll surely employ, your heart filled with joy
Now, child please do come with me!"

"And what of my mate, and what of his fate?
The man in the adjoining room?"
The soul of the sky, with tear in his eye
Said that her mate's soul was scheduled for doom!

"The man that's next door, is mean to the core
His mind and his heart, black as pitch,
The hurt left beneath, forever bequeathed
His soul's path is straight to the ditch."

"His heart full of tar, he left me with scars
Forgiveness is not what you preach?
My soul will not rest as it views from afar
This man that you leave at the beach."

The holy man said that before he is dead
The darkened heart has time to heal
Forgiveness and penance is now his life's sentence
The darkened heart needs time to heal

And so they ascended, their holiness blended
All things that were wronged turned to right
The angel of death; he took her very last breath

and her essence.................... returned to the light!
OpenWorldView Oct 2018
I found you.
Different. Imperfect.

A sad and sickly child
alone in a faceless world.

Bland with naïve thoughts
and clumsy manners.

I found you.
Alike. Perfect.
You are not alone in this world.
CK Baker Apr 2017
to exonerate the clipping
we took the back road to oswega
the tudor house rabbits
had long lost their heads
(presumably to the *****)
and what remained
of the scape
was dead
and dry
and orange

that happy home
on the brink
of cattle loop
was now gull grey ~
the needles
and stragglers
(from shady bay)
remained in numbers
on the outskirt
of the park

the fabled town
of horse drawn tours
was stone washed ~
on the back of
government docks
sat decrepit toppers
set on high tide
against the lighthouse
and its measured song

flutes and fiddles
and acoustic sitars
ride the accompaniment
nose rings
and signage
in the hands of
staged protesters
the sickly spit strewn
with tidal run
and ocean bags

hedgerow trimmed
alongside the sea walk
rolling hills bend
before the chuck
mint juleps
and flop hats
peak the parade
clydesdales
and royals
blinded in back
Skaidrum Jun 2015
Eloquent april showers kiss her forehead,
Oath-enriched may flowers fleck his cheeks.


& now there’s rosemary bursting from his venus veins---
        ashes aligning in those sickly tear-ducts.

( w h y  i s  h e  w e e p i n g ?)


What a coincidence;
her love was her forte
    and yet his eyes
were foreign to the music.


My dragon princess is in love
    with a sickly raven boy;


and he’s caught a icy cancer. . .

    “Raven boy loves his rosemary”
Look, love’s fingers bittersweetly

    entwined with death


...are now limp.


The rain is her salvation        and his

                            roots.


Maybe it wasn’t a drought


Maybe it was

            a flood.


After all,    
            there’s no such thing as too much beauty, on venus,
                                        and there's no such thing as too much rain,

in April.

(I'm sorry dragon princess, but not every flower was destined to bloom.)
.
This was for Belle and Dylan.
My beloved Dragon Princess and My dying Raven Boy.

© Copywrited.
English Jam Nov 2018
I am a wine glass in your palm
I know you'll let me shatter
Breaking into a million glass fractures
Doesn't seem to matter

"Oh darling," I hear you call out
From the inexplicable black void
Over which I delicately balance
Despite my attempts to avoid

In my heart I know the choice I've made
And I know that choice is you
All the realisation in the world
Wouldn't make me say we're through

White sheets, blissfully innocent
Stained with your sickly pale glow
I've got to have you, I know I shouldn't
What happens next, you already know
atptla Mar 2018
Walking lamely under a red sun,
Carved eyes and a faded skin, trying to run.
Twisted his fingers, removed his nails,
Hoping to be safe behind veils.

His skin had clung on his bones,
A non-aesthetic convulsion knitted by groans.
Escaping from shadows keeping a dusty pledge,
A deadly hunt dragging him into delirium's edge

Started to fill him up, anger and grudge,
He lost the faculty to judge.
With pain, opened his stitched mouth,
But knew that he was not allowed.

Tasted a dense sulfur while breathing,
And his vermillion blood began bleeding.
His sickly skin felt the soothing warmth,
A mild breeze came from north.

Became evident, shadows' faces,
He could see their stitching traces.
With a smile, wailful but silent and relieved,
Embraced his end that already conceived.
Nobody Sep 2017
Your head feels foggy,
you sense yourself unwind;
It’s the same dreadful demons
toying with your mind.
They wait till it’s dark,
or the lights are down low;
unnerving sickly attacks,
through your blood and bones.
You can’t hide your black heart,
the demons can see;
they don’t allow any space,
in your head to breathe.  
Tear your reason to shreds,
you need fixing.
A worn stone sinking,
in an ocean that’s rotting;
decaying miserably, and
forced to bend the knee.
How much more agony
can the universe bring.
Not even your screams
can get you out of the cold;
and you’d rather give up
and drown,
than go it alone.
A mashup of lyrics from one of my fave artists
A silent snigger is a lion's roar to me.
I reject them on every level,
From their shoes to their sickly smiles,
All eyes shall  cower from my glare
I will go my own way
Experimental verse for graphic novel about the life of painter Vincent van Gogh See  (collection for full list)
Shane Leigh Aug 2017
In dire times
we look to those who hold power:
Kings and Queens that long leave us bereft.
Cowering thieves that steal the silver
from peasants,
from nobility,
from those who claim good tidings and tranquility.

It awaits,
lurking -
patient -
in the crevices of the masonry;
What death has been brought here?
What suffering?
What pain?

It does away
with the faithful,
the forgiving,
the forgiven;
young, old, sickly, and power driven;
leaving eye-sight red,
skin singed like ash -
Burned.

Do not fear thy neighbors cough
for it be too late if you had heard;
fear the mask marked by plague,
walking amongst those who once passed.
Taking the guise of good nature
It steals,
It grasps life with cold fingers like twine -
and there be not left but twine.

Then there,
in the dark,
there is no warmth;
cold and calloused It leaves;
washing through the cities
as if all now was
Cleansed.

What now of said power of Majesty's grace?
There be no more cowards
to thieve in their place.
© Shane Leigh
I love all things medieval and Middle Age (mythology, the good, the bad, the gruesome); so, when I have inklings to write about them, I cannot stop myself from doing so (:
carminayasmin Sep 2018
I wrench my own feeble nails
down the wall, insistently.

and I'm sickly tortured by
all the screeching

but something else should feel the distress.

- these hands need punishing.
because forever it dwells in my palms
but they've never let me hold secure;
never let me cradle it to warmth.

- I guess just because I feel that this will
just all melt away by the time I blink.
And because my hands simply don't ever deserve to bathe in your being.
you are always painfully  in reach
Mohamed Nasir Dec 2017
Love me as you loved me
Like you loved me before
Never leave me never
Never never more

Kiss me o my love kiss me
Like you kissed me before
Never leave me never
Never never more

Let me be in your arms
Let me sway to your charm
Let me be the only one
Let me be your sun

Hold me my darling hold me
Oh like you hold me before
Never leave me never
Never never more

I'm sickly my darling I'm sickly
Hold me like you never
Hold me before
Kiss me my love kiss me
Never leave me never more

Let me be in your arms
Let me sway to your charm
Let me be your only one
Let me be your sun
Inspired from an old hindi song of an old hindi movie. Not a translation. The words are of my own.
Sam Vaghi Sep 2015
There are many unseen dragons that torment me in this life

There is a tiny dark creature
with a vicious forked tongue  
Who crawls behind my ear
and twists a barbed tail around my neck.
It whispers bitter words and
noxious notions that dissolve
my sense of self-
That make me believe
I am nothing
Unwanted
worthless,
Talentless
and pointless.


There is the sleek silver beast
Which laughs as
Sharp blooded claws and rapier teeth
cut and rip at my flesh
Guided by my own hand

There is the fiery flash
That ravages my mind to rage
And fight
And destroy those close to me
And the things I hold dear

There is the red heart eater
Who eyes glow brighter
As it steals the joy
And the pleasure
From the things I do
And from the magic moments in life

There is the grotesque malformed nightmare,
That drips sickly slime
And pumps putrid poison into the air
As it breathes heavily on me
And whittles away my will,
Drains all my energy
Until I can barely breathe
Or get out of bed

Then there is the great beast,
Of whom I only know eyes
Darker than the blackest night,
A despair that seeks the quickest end
That teaches my surrendering soul
To long for the final sleep
First draft
Please come and find me
Playful whispers in the dark.
Who am I calling?
I suppose...
My baby,
Can I call you baby?


Oh sweet lullabyes in the night,
Hold me tight in constriction.
Squeeze a little bit tighter, love.
I don't know how much time I have left.
Delusional!
Oh bitterly hopeless
Alone on the void
Scratching at air for any oxygen my depraved lungs can find,
Suffocating on your love,
Choking on your divinity.

Oh darling,
My sweet crimson lover
Dancing on the bridge of death at the break of dawn,
You swing me in your arms,
Torched tongue behind your tight toothed grin,
Your hair grows stars, and your arms bend time,
my fatal partner in a tango to the edge of the earth.

Darkness as you torture me
Wrench my soul willingly
Foolishly and ignorantly
Pulling my strings
Through obligation
And autopilot daydreams
Painting patterns
On an inky black sky

Orange slices on existential beach
Sparkling warm coast,
The cosmos like a bright sunny day above.
Bitter ashes mix and churn with the sand,
I'm sinking,
Quickly,
Help,
Help me!
But you just watch.
Mournfully?
Guiltily?
I sink until I hit the bottom
And there I lie,
Falling asleep to my tears.


The zodiac locked fate,
Fish and Virgins! Fish and Virgins!
Poets and failures,
Academics and frauds,
Spring and summer to autumn and sadness,
My eternal indigo diary,
My blueberry lipstick,
Leaving light stains on my love-lorn letters,
Lavender scattered in the envelope,
Mailed to you on Sunday,
Delivered along the milky way,
A sickly jazmine blend,
Of cherry blossom confusion.

Blood red,
Soaked through,
The same old colours fill my thoughts.
So many clouds for a sunny day.
Raining garnets,
Thick and playful,
Flooding the streets with sweet poison,
Bathing in my deep obsession,
Drowning in my addiction.

Waiting emptily,
In an empty white asylum,
With an empty mind,
Waiting for you,
My answer,
My meaning,
My red and blue jumper.
Not standing up to stretch,
But sitting still,
Letting my bones grow stiff,
To creak under my weight,
Like an old back porch,
Made for a pair of old lovers,
Desolate and dilapidated,
Withered by neglect,
Empty.

A pointless pray for solace,
In hope you will come,
My prince of milk,
My fifth science,
My escape from this never ending sporadic spiral down into the murky, dusty, purple fog of asinine and inane.
My peace of mind.
My baby.
Can I call you baby?
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