Vivisect poems on Hello Poetry

Ari Nov 2012

You will be argonaut
one more of the supernumerary
trodding upon the cindered ones
come before you
limbs wooden and somite
encircling a moon
tumescent and blue
in permafrost garrote
on constellations edge
tottering over synapse
mocking
like a mime on highwire
your guilt
lupine in its longing
sawtooth timberline in vivisect night
down promontory
to frozen wave
the broken spoke of your step
on sleetslick carapace
past the preterit
embalmed hide of the world
into the silent millstone
berserk
to return emptyhanded
and changed

Austin Heath Jun 2014

"Slaughter Home."

Fireworks that spray paint
brain matter and bits of tongue
like obscenities in a bathroom stall.
Spray paint everything yellow.
Own everything. Burn everything.
**** everything. Invade it;
infect it, vivisect your name
as an iron-on patch into it's guts.
Stitch it in close to something necessary.
A little bit of everything dies.
Anything that can be possessed,
umbrella of oppressions.
Prancing.
You'd make me cry just to see if it's possible.
You'd push me off the edge to see how close I am.
You'd push me off the edge to see how fast I fall.
You'd step on my fingers to see if they bleed.
You'd stomp in my teeth to see if they crack.
You'd spit on the corpse to see if it hydrates.
Cartwheeling.
Anything abrasive, anything slightly toxic,
something disgusting to indulge in.
**** the gardens, **** the rivers and lakes;
Died in a boar's den,
died in the stomach of a volcano,
gave it three days and decided
death suits one just fine.
Pieces
of
dishes
stuck between your toes.
A rainbow in violent undertones,
the ROYGBIV of slashing motions.
Tax exempt.
Cartwheeling.
A little bit of everything dies.

#depression #****** #violence #agression

11 Oct 2012

- Sir, to think of you so kindly

Your caress has turned to mold,
to keep me good you said:
"someday, if only.."
this way,
I vivisect,
my dead soul with your
increased failed words
while I shelter
on this avenue that you walked on,
once with hopes for your return
and....going going gone.

The bad habit of my fantasies
a stillborn hunger
so massively
I wish for you
to do me violently,
in the back of your car
like a deity,
like that cigarette that never leaves your mouth
Inhale me deeply
blow the smoke out
and let me spread
from your lungs into the hole in your heart.

Drive me far - I won't object,
lick at my scars as to infect and
indulge yourself with me,
tangle in the kiss
that eyes grace
upon naked skin
dazzled by delicate writs.
As your most needed need
force me to please.

And I will cry
when the rain falls,
I do it once more for you
as if taught
to obey teardrops,
so pure
I lay them in front of you to hold
buttons to be pushed, no,
tear them apart
won't you?

-11

Stanley R Larson Jan 2012

Thinking about Facebook Photos

Facebook's faces, sometimes as strong as words on the wall,
or in Xanga's blogs, or in now-old email messages,
serve as evocateurs
that summon more than one could think was stored
in tangled strands beneath the cortex.

That vault, in fact, proves not to be protected space
or cerecloth meant to hold or hide some hallowed hopes
that I had thought were now impervious,
reserved apart from further, subtle, deeper text,
not subject here to parse or vivisect.

From vantage point of age, perchance
one sees that those faces smiling over progeny,
or cyber-lighted eyes peering out in brightness,
mask sober-tinged realities
expressed ever so casually in the orderly syntax
displayed on my wall or my blog or my mail.

Ella Gwen Jul 2015

Feed me your secrets.

Under your skin, I will rest, elevated
on ribbed, rigid cages of ribs containing
that one muscle confounding all;
here I will perch and observe

such a beautiful rhythm, concept of
constant contractions as my fingers will to
wrap around the chaos of capillaries, each
vacuous vein and every attesting artery

screaming as I squeeze, nails painted
ebony as rivulets exercise against my sins.
Your body is my rapture, yes every manoeuvre
fascinates these prying eyes, I will prise apart

the seams of your internal markers and search
secrets stashed in genetic poetry, discover
paltry physical proofs, truths of what went so
badly wrong that your mind drowned so readily

that you chose to diminish, turned off all navigation
headed steadfast, sure and glorious towards rocks
everybody warned you about; I must vivisect

this paradox, venture deep within the places you
refuse to look; inside your claustrophobic body
covert are the ***** secrets of sea sickness, of why
you chose to sink in love with me.

#love #heartbreak #light #confusion #paradox #confound

Christopher Hendrix May 2021

Extraspace

At which point in vivisect
of the physical body
do we parse in twine
the real and the imagined
self? Some point soon
muscle must cede to
hedged bets in extraspace,
wish upon itself mercy.

#mercy #body #loss #short #imagine

KD Miller Feb 2017

untitled

2/2/2017

to vivisect the reader,
to bleed all over my paper
the one great poem i wish to write one day.

dead plath would be happy
my life with you a fat diseased rat.
for once, i think about what i write

taking slow breaths and thinking about meanings
there is something i am trying to say and i do not
know how to

clawing inside of me
an incubus's baby, what is it?
only dead saints know

but here's the thing,
and it is:
i did this to myself

i don't know what an apostrophe is
but i would if i saw it.
my past is full of ulcers and

the cold February cuts into me
it is my butcher
i have been that girl

tryna conjur the dead spirit of plath like...

Ganesha Michael Shapiro Feb 2017

meandering

surface attractions are magnetic insurrections
******/ecstatic fornication is aqueous neurotic
loquats departing markets feverishly
his emergence is magic
her carpets were made to be rolled upon
in naked ecstasy
hungry like diners at a restaurant
humid and loose like comets
seeking markets to sell goods and services to
humid like germany in the heat of summer
drums breaking the silence like it was a sheet of paper
staples faking their commitments
bound to paper like razor blades to tape
jump up and scream your health is a miracle
sting like a needle the record player skips a beat
i am shown musical images yet perhaps we are meant to sleep
his dream is real and thirty feelers adorn her skin
her hungry hands caress his legs
forever peeling away the cucumber’s skin
respect is resolving to love despite the fire that shoots up your spine
go and wash the mind in a pool of liquid nectar
amrit is her sweater the sweaty and the sweet serum
salty houses of gingerbread demand repair

fair thee well 2016
your edges are rusted, frustrated and melancholy
i seek the middle where white lilies lie
waiting for someone to hold them
speak “know” more and refrain from talking
her arms hold the world in waking defiance
science is borrowed from metaphysics
statistics weaken the faith of our future
shoot the researchers and drown them in tubes of acid
like they torture cats and vivisect their own families
stab them and then steep them in water but add no honey

song shadows
soul and mirrors
will we ever see clearer
sweet life oh the fragrance
the righteous mind
un-sees the danger
so many soldiers
so many women
are all our fathers really children
move swiftly into the windy recesses
the mind regresses
all the time
damp and wet
the owl cries
so long tomorrow
farewell goodbye
dunk your head in liquid splendor
i am tender as the snow
pouring down from heaven’s fiefdom
mornings hunger is dissipated
by moonlight kisses and salty lovers
salves of calendula upon our skin
swim in juicy wonder
listen and dance with thunder
the fireflies swim through burning skies
making arcs and triumphant cries
what a silly blunder
all the noise and all the cover
hiding your heart in violet garments
streams of satin in your slumber
stroke the liberated arrow
weave the gardenia’s shadow
streams of consciousness and beauty
looking into eyes of human strategy
human shadows
start to suffocate us
instruct the timber plundered
strumming humid arias
looms of butter start to melt
svelte and spelt
slews of wealth
heavens belt is loosely tied
striated like the mind
grinding hind legs
selves neglect entry fees
sleeves of grass
strands of ice
jump in the lake for a quick refreshment
stand back you are lucky to undertake the treatment
come here and steer clear of fear’s inner critic
sinister sisters jump at guys
in gyms baring turbans in tournaments of blindness
sentenced to life behind stars
score cards grieve their own boxes
scratch the lottery cards
show them your hearts
small and beautiful
throughout the luminescent sky
i sulk waiting for the humpback whales to fly
street lights brighter than souls
do what you can and lift up the whole
returning to our goals and values
salutations bless the next expectation
the desperation of the departed
his investigation
feet fade into feathers
streets are named after leather
longing for loops of string
rings dream in desert timing
first rhymes decency gone blind
so we must find our light inside
held in bed against its will
vintage bells dressed in music
goose feathers use it for pillows
the west winds find his lips
respect turns to trust and kisses your bones
in bird language i speak tones of glowing stones
roses freeze the afterglow of darkness
dressed in moans and loaning their hands to anyone that passes
the dancers resume amusing stances
chances are France is falling faster than a comet
soaring like moorings in Spain
hours invested in self selection
hesitation to understand beauty
like mushroom filaments stints of style in tiny islands
steeped in courage still considering this weapon
resend the message festering in a fast vesicle
i feasibly neglect my spectacles
guess who came to dinner and wished you a happy new year
we live in order for our features to disappear
in Diaspora spores of ecstasy, mutiny and insurrection
rebel against tyranny and become the tyrant’s offering
sacrifice is ritual both real and useful
humid as the dawn in swampy storms of vision
precision is clueless less the virtuous resolve it
resourceful yes but nonetheless tired of twirling in groovy dramas
sand storms and bottomless pits
groping for history, mystery and freedom

you are a dumpling dressed in the afterglow of sunlight
with melancholy nectar dripping from your elbows

Ignatius Hosiana Nov 2016

Mirror

It may display how breath taking you look
it may divulge every scar there is to hide
it may show you the color of your eyes
for there's nothing it shows that's lies
but your mirror will never tell you
what I think about your elegance
nor decipher the speech in my glance
it will never reveal your emotions
and neither will it vivisect the notions
mirror's admissions may cause ecstasy
but there's still so much more left to see
Mirrors don't lie, that they never do
they also never tell what's inside
hidden in the unflicked pages of the book.

#love #lies #truth #reflections #relationship #mirror

Ignatius Hosiana Jun 2016

Yeah

It's Crazy, can't vivisect*
why I must Die to resurrect!

#love #death #philosophy #puzzle #destiny #lonesome

Breon Mar 2018

oh, adoration, too

What would you do for love? Sacrifice and all,
that's beautiful, but the gift that keeps on giving
Is horror.

Would you vivisect yourself
And bolt them down against your bones?
Would you tailor yourself to fit?
Would you care, just a little bit?

Would you strike the sun from the sky?
While others break and bend and die
Would you turn to your dearly beloved
And say "It's okay, we'll make it through"
With that soft smile you know they love?
Would you lie? Could you try?

Maybe love isn't in the beautiful things we do. Maybe it's in the moments where we give of ourselves, of the things we cherish, our hobbies, our time, not sharing but sacrificing. Our integrity. Our hope, sometimes.

#compromise #love

Ganesha Michael Shapiro Apr 2018

honest tea is rare these days

your edges are rusted, frustrated and melancholy
i see the middle, where white lilies
lie, waiting for someone to hold them
speak no more, please refrain from talking
her arms hold the world, in waking defiance
science, is borrowed from metaphysics
statistics, weaken the faith of our future
shoot the researchers and drown them in tubs of acid
like they torture cats and vivisect, their own families
wish to stab them and steep them in water
and sadly they refuse to add, even the tiniest drop of honey

The Knave of Spades Dec 2023

Cottonmouthearseyesmind

To vanishing horizons, endless night
He turns his face and chips away his legs
By hand ground down to sand, awaiting light
Returning to the dirt, reduced to dregs

Far better to dismantle dreams that sting
To quit their wriggling underneath his thumb
To vivisect and pin their little wings
Before their creeping venom strikes him dumb

Far better to escape that painful ship
To numb himself in cold and salty seas
To drown with every forecast on his lip
To float and decompose preemptively

He rations out his happiness in hits
An addict just about to call it quits

— The End —