"unbirth" poems
just when the dust
settles round my lust
and the thud
of despair hits bottom
just as I flail
and swim in this
blood-caked,
soulless earth
soup of the lost
abyss of unbirth
you plunge my wilderness
charred with remains
from hellfire
and we breathe
halos
our bones lighted sticks,
colors rising in
angel arcs
Your rib cage
is open
for my tremulous offering
as my lips imprint
a crimson O
upon the earthquake
of your chest
I am still down with the
earthworms
wrist **** sopped
by soil
arteries, bashed
split to the root
by verbal hurts
in a sliding psyche of oil
yet here you are
suturing wounds
with whiplash kisses
saltlick moans in my throat
You wrap me in gauze
through the imprint of your eyes
turn my cuts
into fresh brook
gaze upon my
deepest darkness
like goddess worship shrine
my **** is a funnel
for your whipped light
sacrifice ****** prayer
skinned to the core
all layers exposed
your lips slick
with the drip
of my bliss,
deep juice of
freshly-caught
jungle hum
all is bared
we stop at nothing
paint our tongues
with tears
adorn the face of death
with ripe guava
and, as you scream
my name into
a blown glass whisper
my soft fruit
falls into
the heat of
your palm
somewhere
in distance
a
moon
explodes
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 11:42 AM UTC
I am not born as yet,
five minutes before my birth.
I can still go back
into my unbirth.
Now it’s ten minutes before,
now, it’s one hour before birth.
I go back,
I run
into my minus life.
I walk through my unbirth as in a tunnel
with bizarre perspectives.
Ten years before,
a hundred and fifty years before,
I walk, my steps thump,
a fantastic journey through epochs
in which there was no me.
How long is my minus life,
nonexistence so much resembles immortality.
Here is Romanticism, where I could have been a spinster,
Here is the Renaissance, where I would have been
an ugly and unloved wife of an evil husband,
The Middle Ages, where I would have carried water in a tavern.
I walk still further,
what an echo,
my steps thump
through my minus life,
through the reverse of life.
I reach Adam and Eve,
nothing is seen anymore, it’s dark.
Now my nonexistence dies already
with the trite death of mathematical fiction.
As trite as the death of my existence would have been
had I been really born.
5.1k
Slashing, swallowing tongues of fire
Igniting his own funeral pyre
The soldier stumbles, heartstrings rent
From his gun’s chamber, bullets spent
Haggard and ruined, he cries surrender
Welcoming death as his soul’s avenger
Faltering, crumbling, face to the earth
He closes his eyes and accepts his unbirth
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 4:09 AM UTC
left over a limp prodigy that is ****** half to death the cold marker is pulsing white and burning red on his skin bent down boring black antlers into a dichotomous spirit pulling out the entrails with a fanatic regret he laughs so hard when he is leaving and the other side shakes his head, where are you going ***** you are still the biggest part of this, other says the angel you are reeving barks when u pass through its hands is that the message u want to send when you fall out of heaven are those the words that you would speak quietly floating past Cerberus just save your penny hell is empty just crawl into a ******* hole let your forever in dirt endure moonlight and transform you into bones this forest is empty and pigment lures the ghosts broken headlights are the bobbing lanterns that your memories impose translucent ax lips biting on shoulders kept bleeding for more did you leave a mark on them too when you ****** out their souls? am i just a human fixture in the black hole of your home? would u miss me if i dissolved and left u my warmth?
i dont trust the way that u wear your eyes holding everything i know is feeling behind what you claim to nevermind ur lying i know ur ******* lying every person breathing has something to hide u say u loveme and need me u said you’d never lie u promised that u meant it when i told you I wanna die
i dont understand prosperity/functionality/practicality/
pragmatic asides
i dont understand what you could gain from absorbing a ***** preaching purity shaking hands with a convent of flies i ******* hate u preternaturally u are the unbirth of it all i never meant a word that i said i am empty rolling my eyes here waiting to watch u dissolve
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
I went out in the dust storm yesterday
Sepia clouds filling the sky, but just on one side
Dense clouds obscuring the east
Clear as day over the shoulder
In moments I was engulfed
And I said goodbye to the westward sun
As the grains of sand, one by one
Pelted me in the face
Engulfed in earth
Baptised by the world
Out of vanity is my unbirth
And I don't even flinch
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 4:24 AM UTC
I'm sick of all the wanting, waiting
Of this life,its frustrating
Thoughts of death,self masticating
Emotions I shall be castrating
Have no form of self worth
To myself I am furth
Where is choice to unbirth?
Leave behind wretched earth
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 6:35 AM UTC