Sana Jan 2015
My heart I bequeath you
O’ stillness of my universe
I bequeath you my sanity
Spreading this cloak of being in your dust
I bow to your twinkling stars
To the waxing sun and scented grass
I bow to your springing rivers
To the parched grain and blossoming flowers
I bow to the warmth of my lover
And want of my beloved
I bow to your saccharine figs
And honeyed nectar in chalice filled
I bequeath my mortality to your transiency
Blinded by this light in game of ruse
Into your cohesiveness, I fuse
In blinkers to win the race
Espying a king in glass
Presage of being a *****

Yet when darkness falls
I furl my cloak and solemnly rise
For I bow not then
To your barren fields and waning suns
I bow not to your garish colors,
To the cloying drupe and wilted blossoms
Bracing my feeble transience
With my tenet and trail of faith
I bow to the King of kings;
Whilst I beseech for emanating hope,
In my tigers clasp, my ***’s rope
I beseech,
Till the noise becomes music again
And as I gaze in the glass now,
All I espy is a beseeching *****
True, the brightest light casts the darkest shadow but it is in darkest that brightest embers can be found.
"Inside the ****, silence whispers;
Darkness wombs the light
Raging storms give birth to light"

Our fate is storm,
We are the light
We are the raging storm
M Eastman Aug 2015
Cup your palms around
that candle dear lazy
Spells to cast to the wombs
keep our ghosts outside
peering into tent *****
yellowing irises and
stamens strangely swaying
but nonsense
Butte no
out there
they stalk you dear lazy
ConnectHook Sep 2015
in every visible character man differs less from the higher apes,
than these do from the lower members of the same order of Primates

                                                     ­                      Charles Darwin, 1871

The Other claims descent from apes
then acts like a violent monkey.
It pillages, it loots and rapes
performing as Satan’s flunkey.

Its actions bear the mark of Cain;
brandishing cameras, smashing things.
We feel its proto-human pain
yet dread the urban woe it brings.

It tries to justify, with words
its primal carnage, childish rage.
With anthropoid designs deferred
it struts the Darwinian stage.

The higher primate government
rewards them well in ripe bananas
for wrecking their environment
(jungle as well as savannas).

Their mate selection (naturally):
a semi-simian solution:
intercoursing sexually,
to hasten their evolution.

The wombs enlarge – they drop their young
then text their friends while getting high.
They swing from tree-tops, fling their dung –
while down below the humans sigh.***-and-descent-in-relation-to-man/

Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
Stick with the decay of light,  the lights are hidden
Museum **** child nutrition is the "son" Stein
Einstein the writing, the boys' devil Temple Beach,
beach music spells and fat things full of desire to go
over from hence teeth upside down wall;
For example, white and black of the Jews,
even by someone with sand the arms of the merit
of his struggle to far off it smells Glory withdraw
for the new marriage's sake The house of the witch
is empty of the salvation of the dead,
seeming to have been duly given bookmark breath;
headscarf's hot colors St. cracked | Color
is common sense color is the only drop of honor
to lodge in the torments of glitters, ||||||||  and the dragon fire
sings a lot of monster
permanent custody; In China, finally, until,
a little after, the cops, the day on which he is wicked;
and they are spoiled: he has loved to talk, too, of the field,
and is a gift, Live on the skin of the body
Lucius holding calls and picked intimidating to teen
mid-evening, caught pulling the material ||| Memory
stains the lights but the lights are hidden
in Einstein's ****

Following the decomposition of light,
the children's children are hidden
music is the "Son" of Stein; Einstein
Writing, Devil Boys Temple Beach,
Music Beach fat things full of spells
and are willing to move from there
to break their teeth wall for white
sand are black Jews It smells the battle
from afar   the value of the weapons
of Glory withdraws the charisma
of the new marriage; the witch's house
is empty and the safety of the dead
seemed to be a suitable collection tank.
Headscarf in warm colors;
Color is common sense and the drop
of darkness was not such a great honor
for her to spend the night there shines
his sufferings |||||||| Fire monster
or dragon carrots' permanent reservation ::::
In China, finally, up shortly after the cops
in the day the bad guys and because
we are spoiled we also loved him
from the field for the gift of speech:
the skin Laura keeps calling to,
intimidating the teenager in the middle
of the night caught by pulling the material
away; ||||| Memory keys to turn on
the lights,
the lights are hidden = Einstein's ****
in a children's food museum writes
Einstein to eat, and the devil boys Temple |
on the Beach, the musical beach
and fat things full of spells are willing
zebra Sep 2017
i'm sorry
but im going to devour you
like toast with butter and jam
let go to me
lose your self in the exaltation of suffering
albeit a difficult pleasure
feel me ruin you with every strike and ******
blister tear and pierce
a quandary of liberation bleeding
take more then whats dished
ill turn you into a gushing river of squeals
and filthy verse

i'm in love with your ****
colored almost purple
like a wild mouthed poem
make it kiss me
let it eat my face
its more beautiful then an Hawaiian sunset
more tender then a baby lamb
your sweet lipped *****
a buttery sticky bun
its drools liquid diamonds

i'm sorry
i hit your **** so hard
but they bounced and bounced
and it drove me near mad
so gorgeous bruised and bleeding
casaba torrents
all hot stings and sweet

you stand glorious
between beauty and annihilation

your mouth swollen from being slapped so hard
nose bleed and mucous
your eyes enormous wombs
like fingers touching me

oh baby
im sorry
your tears imploring
pleading and drunk
on hair pulling frenzies

curse my brutish rampage
of *** gone mad
turning your body
into clouds and red splash ribbons

don't be sorry
she said
with pursed lips
your rabid hunger my own
i am an abyss of dark desires
a savage wraith
i want to kiss you like a lecher
all ******* and cherries
with legs squandered wide
a Halloween grotesque
with a ponytail

are you going to eat me
like a communion wafer
if it will save you
am i not a saint of ****

"There is no greater love
than to lay down one's life for one's friends"

so have your fun at my expense
make me your house of horrors
for the scalding of your whip

ill be good
please do your worst
and ill show you my best
promise me
pretty please
kisses and cries
rainbows and ash
blistering ecstatic
Andrew Sep 2017
All comforts we create
Can't compare to the ****
All our fears of fate
Drive us toward the tomb
They cut the umbilical cord
They way I cut my phone cord
Leaving me alone and torn
Wishing I could curl up in a curl
And experience comfort from the world
Where people pay with change
Because they have no money
And people pay with rain
Because they have no honey

I've seen the chaos of fire
And the serenity of water
And the steam that rises when they're combined
The wet ashes of love mix into a thick cement
And become the heart's hardened ****
The heart's hellish hatred blooms
From within the darkness
Bringing us hardships

When my brain is in my eyes
It brings discomfort in disguise
Like the discomfort when I lie
And say I don't give a **** about what others think
Mentally I have become fetal
Yet I'm trying to sound regal
The illusion of indifference
Protects me from conversation
Like the **** or the tomb
And the broom is the tool
That sweeps dirt up under the rug
When my heartstrings begin to tug
The **** is the only place clean and snug

In a world where people become mindless weapons
The **** becomes a pistol
Blasting bullets into the Earth
We save our solidarity
For the moments when massive amounts of people die
And the bar seems to keep rising
And we forget the importance of one
Until we are hit personally
And look down to see blood from multiple wounds
The result of gunshots fired by multiple wombs
Ken Pepiton Mar 2018
The right used mind, rightly spelled, righteous,
can be possessed of virtues unimagined
by those too young to know.

Father of many nations was old when told

Every imagination in the heart of man is only evil from his youth,
is that so?
I think not, somehow,
I imagine there were always those whose hearts held hope and
hope makes not ashamed, right?

Ah, see, hope

imagine that

Hope repairs the rift,
the tear through which the rib emerged
full-formed exactly what I dreamed of meet for me,
and more,
there's the story, man dreamed the wombed one before she
was given him, so
before the ingestion of the knowledge of good and evil.

Got that? Before knowledge of good and evil.
Meet means right, right, just right. Not wrong.

Adam walked in the garden with ***, like a kid and his dad, except dad
was not made of dirt. "Hey, boy, look at this…"
they loved that action,
But there was found no mate meet for Adam, eh?
The plot thickens. What was Adam looking for?
What would you expect, as a very smart boy who knew the names of
all known things?

Not a voice, exactly,
more a feeling
thirst ish but worse, un-named unnameable

Oh, she is meet for me, fit formed for me, lock and key
Why was there any time when men lacked wombs?
What if the story was twisted?

Eve was meet for Adam. That's the story. From the mind of the man
who had walked and probably played with his creator,

Oh, partisan brains,
inhabited by why lies encrusted with ways and means,
how did we
or did we fall at all?
Wonder if we all believe…
What if we all believe…
Wisdom is the key, curiosity seeks,
seek and ye shall find
ask and ye shall receive
who so ever does that gets that
or hopes to, right.
stuff, can I ask for stuff, money, good-doing-power,
uber-mensch, bon homme, saint super prayer guy?

Peace of Jerusalem
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven
you gotta have some accurate idea of heaven
afore you go saying' you got the contract
to build the foundation
All stories that end happy ever after are buildt.

Cruel ruler. Eat grass, may Nebuchadnezzar visit your dream
and write on your wall.
Mob-maker, bow before your maker and lay aside your mortal toil,
round and round and round and see
we all are, as you are, aware
believers, hopers

Why would you call me enemy?
Have I taken food from your child?
Have I turned you out when you sought shelter?
Have I failed to believe or failed to learn?

Why do delicate things break so easily?
How can anything be?

Yet, here we are.
You and me, immaterially sharing a fragile thought.
A next moment after the last, where hope appeared, un expected, as it were.
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