"writhe" poems
the history of melancholia
includes all of us.
me, I writhe in ***** sheets
while staring at blue walls
and nothing.
I have gotten so used to melancholia
that
I greet it like an old
friend.
I will now do 15 minutes of grieving
for the lost redhead,
I tell the gods.
I do it and feel quite bad
quite sad,
then I rise
CLEANSED
even though nothing
is solved.
that's what I get for kicking
religion in the ***
I should have kicked the redhead
in the ***
where her brains and her bread and
butter are
at ...
but, no, I've felt sad
about everything:
the lost redhead was just another
smash in a lifelong
loss ...
I listen to drums on the radio now
and grin.
there is something wrong with me
besides
melancholia.
30.3k
I.
the emperor
sleeps in a palace of porphyry
which was a million years building
he takes the air in a howdah
of jasper beneath saffron
umbrellas
upon an elephant
twelve foot high
behind whose ear
sits always a crowned
king twir-
ling an
ankus of
ebony
the fountains of the emperor’s
palace run sunlight and
moonlight and the emperor’s
elephant is a thousand years old
the harem of
the emperor
is carpeted with
gold cloth
from the
ceiling(one
diamond timid
with nesting incense)
fifty
marble
pillars
slipped from immeasurable
height,fall,fifty,silent
in the incense is tangled a cool moon
there are thrice-three-hundred
doors carven of chalcedony and
before every door a naked
****** watches
on their heads turbans of a hundred
colours
in their hands scimitars like windy torches
each
is
blacker than oblivion
the ladies
of the emperor’s
harem are queens
of all the earth and the rings
upon their hands are from mines
a mile deep
but the body of
the queen of queens is
more transparent
than water,she is softer than birds
2.
when the emperor is very
amorous he reclines upon
the couch of couches and
beckons with
the little
finger of his left
hand
then the
thrice-three-hundredth
door is opened by the tallest
****** and the queen
of queens comes
forth
ankles
musical with large pearls
kingdoms in her ears
at the feet of
the emperor a cithern-
player squats with
quiveringgold
body
behind
the emperor ten
elected warriors with
bodies of lazy jade
and twitching
eyelids
finger
their
unquiet
spears
the queen of queens is dancing
her subtle
body weaving
insinuating upon the gold cloth
incessantly creates patterns of sudden
lust
her
stealing body ex-
pending gathering pouring upon itself stiffenS
to a
white thorn
of desire
the taut neck of the citharede wags
in the dust the ghastly warriors
amber with lust breathe
together the emperor,exerting
himself among his pillows throws
jewels at the queen of queens and
white money upon her nakedness
he
nods
and all
depart through the bruised air aflutter with pearls
3.
they are
alone
he beckons,she rises she
stands
a moment
in the passion of the fifty
pillars
listening
while the queens of all the
earth writhe upon deep rugs
11.2k
writhe and
gape of tortured
perspective
rasp and graze of splintered
normality
crackle and
sag
of planes clamors of
collision
collapse As
peacefully,
lifted
into the awful beauty
of sunset
the young city
putting off dimension with a blush
enters
the becoming garden of her agony
10.9k
I fear the way you love me:
That tender-touching kiss
Seducing me to nightly
Sink deep in your abyss.
Those smooth caresses take me
To places that I dread,
Your cunning fingers rouse me
To plan such lies ahead.
But while we writhe and tumble
In lust's hypnotic hold,
I fear the final stumble
That will see the truth unfold.
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 3:16 AM UTC
The world is filled with liars
There are innocent liars
Like bagworms
Which look like caterpillars
But really **** your plants
Then there are kind liars,
Who lie
To keep you safe
There are guilty liars
Who lie
Because they can't bear
The truth
Finally,
There are real liars
Who lie
To see you writhe in pain
To feel the power
Of killing someone
With just words
These are usually the only ones
Considered liars,
But remember
The world is filled with liars
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 3:02 AM UTC
Let me move slowly through the street,
Filled with an ever-shifting train,
Amid the sound of steps that beat
The murmuring walks like autumn rain.
How fast the flitting figures come!
The mild, the fierce, the stony face;
Some bright with thoughtless smiles, and some
Where secret tears have left their trace.
They pass--to toil, to strife, to rest;
To halls in which the feast is spread;
To chambers where the funeral guest
In silence sits beside the dead.
And some to happy homes repair,
Where children, pressing cheek to cheek,
With mute caresses shall declare
The tenderness they cannot speak.
And some, who walk in calmness here,
Shall shudder as they reach the door
Where one who made their dwelling dear,
Its flower, its light, is seen no more.
Youth, with pale cheek and slender frame,
And dreams of greatness in thine eye!
Goest thou to build an early name,
Or early in the task to die?
Keen son of trade, with eager brow!
Who is now fluttering in thy snare?
Thy golden fortunes, tower they now,
Or melt the glittering spires in air?
Who of this crowd to-night shall tread
The dance till daylight gleam again?
Who sorrow o'er the untimely dead?
Who writhe in throes of mortal pain?
Some, famine-struck, shall think how long
The cold dark hours, how slow the light,
And some, who flaunt amid the throng,
Shall hide in dens of shame to-night.
Each, where his tasks or pleasures call,
They pass, and heed each other not.
There is who heeds, who holds them all,
In his large love and boundless thought.
These struggling tides of life that seem
In wayward, aimless course to tend,
Are eddies of the mighty stream
That rolls to its appointed end.
7.8k
Jesus runs in Everglades, Mohammed climbs the roof
The Angels stamp in anger as the Devil stands aloof,
A wandering Pope in la-la land while Jewish hands do writhe
Those apoplectic Muslims glare while Catholics pay the tithe.
Religion, girls, has hit the skids…the game is up on God
With rosaries rotating hard, theologians do nod,
While Mormons rant moronically with frankincense and myrrh
The irreligious bark and howl in Rastafarian fur.
Sectarian’s recant Sanctum’s Shrine the rite of soul is lost
As neophytes are dancing… the High Priest counts the cost,
Theocracy unbalances as Voodoo’s stamp the floor
And the Prophets throw their hands up, fast retreating for the door.
It’s transcendental disbelief that’s nailed it to the Cross
With the Priesthood chasing little boys all credence here is lost.
With sanctity’s monastic plunge the pagans roar and shout
As Shamans scream their incantations…God declares a route!
There is silence in the Temple now, stillness in the pews
As dust lies thick on altars, a nervous clergy holds reviews,
What, once, was good and vibrant here, is now as dead as dust
As the Blood Red Wine evaporates and Holy Bread…to crust.
Marshalg
Feeding the pigeons by the dusty, open door of the very, empty Chapel.
30 November 2013
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
Your serene lips could liquefy petals of a rose
With twigs on your spine
Consuming my dreams as you lure me
Stretching as the stars shine
Tangled in the ocean breeze
Beyond beautiful you steal my soul
Our hands unify in the shade of the unknown
Tonight we step beneath the flesh
As the path of dust disappears
I want to drink from your collar bone
Every crevice I will endear
Following the maze of your fantasy
Impeccable skin inviting me in
The anticipation intoxicates my desires
As I travel your outline I stiffen for you
Eager to gratify the valley of your liquid pearls
You whimper as I dissolve your engorged delicacy
As you spasm and tremble you ignite the evening air
A Magnetic exuberance of fervor swept over me
Our swollen, lustful lips surrender again
As your majestic heart nurtures our love
I famine to have your tongue renew me
Your quivering hands beginning to stimulate me
You brush against my hardness lightly
I stir inside my stomach
Restless and blazing I await
Teasing the tip my luster rises
As your manhood swims inside my mouth
You swell my peaks, passionate yet tender
You linger feeling my need
Slipping into your enticing throat
My fingers clutching your hips
Connecting with my core as I absorb you
I quiver and cry out loud
With handfuls of starlight and luster
We create a haven just for us
You enter me so carefully
As we wither and blend
Our flesh is stamped together
A serene ambiance is swaying with us
As you whisper and writhe beneath me
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Copulation of the minds...
as word play
leads innuendos to fornicate
upon the poets tongue...
unrestrained
his fingers give voice to wanton
carnal desires
laying the reader bare
to writhe
helplessly beneath his hands
with ink stained kisses
he forces
words into their mouths
a breathless sigh
resonating his ache to be heard
as he stands naked before them
offering himself
to their voyeuristic gaze
before taking them upon the sheets
in punctuated passionate
embraces
leading them toward the ******
they so
cried out for...
Jesus I'm Good.
~<3~
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Alight upon a frail stem,
Tussle, sway with the wind
In your brutal dance
Beneath an indifferent sun.
Underneath the brittle shell
Is a secret grace,
Waiting, longing to emerge.
Come back to me,
Fearless and on fire.
Strip skin, soul, bone,
Writhe in wondrous pain
Listen to the voice of blood.
There is power in small things -
The transparent wing emerging,
A song of light, this dying breath,
Revelation of soul to sky.
I am your heart,
Your body's final rest.
Come back to me.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 1:41 AM UTC
Under the ivory light
of a full amber moon;
your *******
rose and white,
never looked so inviting.
The half moon reminds me
of their shape.
My kisses like fairies
dance between them;
skin tingles,
you writhe.
The crescent moon reminds me
of slowly drooping eyes
as I fall asleep
on the pillow of your *******
purring happy
contented sighs.
Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 12:56 PM UTC
god gloats upon Her stunning flesh. Upon
the rechings of Her green body among
unseen things, things obscene (Whose fingers young
the caving ages curiously con)
—but the lunge of Her hunger softly flung
over the gasping shores
leaves his smile wan,
and his blood stopped hears in the frail anon
the shovings and the lovings of Her tongue.
god Is The Sea. All terrors of his being
quake before this its hideous Work most old
Whose battening gesture prophecies a freeing
of ghostly chaos
in this dangerous night
through moaned space god worships God—
(behold!
where chaste stars writhe captured in brightening fright)
6.8k
Brother.
You are a vampire.
Why do you lust for blood?
Brother.
They have found out now.
Your death is certain.
Detest that agony.
Writhe with rage.
You will be lynched,
And burned in the sun.
Brother.
You are a Vampire.
Royalty runs in your veins.
You lust for blood.
Like a peasant for coins.
Die now.
In royal vain.
You ended your world.
When you ****** the life,
Out of the child.
That boy.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
*she said
being a feminist
i have forsaken the temples of normalcy
for dark gratifications and base seduction
and discovered that those who know the pleasures
of objectification
and frenzied ****** lucidity with strangers
are wiser then the children of sweetness and light
as marriage betrays the need to satisfy
secret dark labyrinths desire
and in its place
repeats ad nauseum
blunt fortitudes
in dim sunless rooms
for fear of the transgressive
satans *** nail
is conventions essential creed
exhaustions hand maid
rendered imagine-less
bereft of the new
until a mere stand in
for true desire is left
like a starved ghost
on a dead moon
a desiccated morsel
left for a hungry mouse
is romantic marriage a poetic conception
by love starved victorian imbeciles
vanquished in increments
by petty spats of blood and thunder
who know not the joys of the whips blood toothed kisses
purgation's brutal sensuality
and a creel
of ramming butter **** gang bangs
in secret fetish gardens
of cries and coos
that leave the *** wilted
and the soul lite
like a butterfly in heaven
slave girl asks
as hips sway
to sacred dionysian storms
in the smoldering pangs
of the heart
as backs writhe and arch
flex and sweat rhapsodic
and viscera panic with desire
are not such delicious degradations
pleasures ravage despicable
cause for an ecstatic celebration
kindling
fiery vapors incense
en-flamed dragons blood
for drooling kisses
that talk in tongues
in a language that everyone understands
infinitly preferred
over the rolling eyes of disapproval
in the tepid marriage bed*
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 5:48 PM UTC
I writhe at your control
In my restless sleep
My body groans against
A dream of you, an image
Entering my mind
To infect me with your touch
And a whisper
Hot breath on my bare neck
Your will is my undoing
As I act out
Every whim
Until I wake gripping the sheets
My chest rising and falling
Under your hand
That I crave
Against my damp skin
Biting and scratching me
Into submission
I succumb
To only you
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 2:02 PM UTC
[Dedicated to Austin Osman Spare]
Have pity ! show no pity !
Those eyes that send such shivers
Into my brain and spine : oh let them
Flame like the ancient city
Swallowed up by the sulphurous rivers
When men let angels fret them !
Yea ! let the south wind blow,
And the Turkish banner advance,
And the word go out : No quarter !
But I shall hod thee -so !
While the boys and maidens dance
About the shambles of slaughter !
I know thee who thou art,
The inmost fiend that curlest
Thy vampire tounge about
Earth's corybantic heart,
Hell's warrior that whirlest
The darts of horror and doubt !
Thou knowest me who I am
The inmost soul and saviour
Of man ; what hieroglyph
Of the dragon and the lamb
Shall thou and I engrave here
On Time's inscandescable cliff ?
Look ! in the plished granite,
Black as thy cartouche is with sins,
I read the searing sentence
That blasts the eyes that scan it :
**** and SET be TWINS."
A fico for repentance !
Ay ! O Son of my mother
That snarled and clawed in her womb
As now we rave in our rapture,
I know thee, I love thee, brother !
Incestuous males that consumes
The light and the life that we capture.
Starve thou the soul of the world,
Brother, as I the body !
Shall we not glut our lust
On these wretches whom Fate hath hurled
To a hell of jesus and shoddy,
Dung and ethics and dust ?
Thou as I art Fate.
Coe then, conquer and kiss me !
Come ! what hinders? Believe me :
This is the thought we await.
The mark is fair ; can you miss me ?
See, how subtly I writhe !
Strange runes and unknown sigils
I trace in the trance that thrills us.
Death ! how lithe, how blithe
Are these male incestuous vigils !
Ah ! this is the spasm that kills us !
Wherefore I solemnly affirm
This twofold Oneness at the term.
Asar on Asi did beget
Horus twin brother unto Set.
Now Set and Horus kiss, to call
The Soul of the Unnatural
Forth from the dusk ; then nature slain
Lets the Beyond be born again.
This weird is of the tongue of Khem,
The Conjuration used of them.
Whoso shall speak it, let him die,
His bowels rotting inwardly,
Save he uncover and caress
The God that lighteth his liesse.
6k
*eking out the ultimate gasp in my last breath of impulsion
i collapse without a touch of grace at race's end
how i made it i will never know
dazed and in bewilderment
i reminisce upon my journey
an aggregation of barricades assailed me
with iniquitous decadent delight
seeming to writhe in triumph at my possible demise
capitulating as it devoured and spewed me out the other side
i humbly reassembled fragments of my near annihilation
temporarily rehabilitated
i recommenced the toilsome climb
to the treasured peak atop the mount
when in would come the tempest with its furor
and render me asunder
mere exhaustion is not the word
for death experienced recurrently
ground to mulch and back again
screaming, pleading, surrendering
proved futile as i newly met the same demise
near incapacitation i miraculously emerged
and scraping pulled myself with broken heart and bones
scratching my way through the darkness
toppling at the pinnacle
to victory's end
with exhilaration it dawns on me
the long dark night is over
i passed the test to realize
it is not the finish line
but only the beginning
©2016janetaylor
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
Puissant piquant and predatory
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar
Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind
He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier
He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes
Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate
He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds
Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your carnal ecstasies revealed
You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm
You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs
With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
sweet Kali stands before us
an offering she holds
while all the skulls around her neck
sleep in a child's repose
there are many souls in limbo
they wander through our sight
seekers for salvation
seeking for the light
a universe lies waiting
a red planet full of stars
just beneath the lingham
that rests in Kali's arms
the dogs lie waiting patiently
while Ganesh begins to writhe
turning to a serpent
that writhes before our eyes
here's the minotaur from Jambu Dweep
wrapped in a golden fleece
telling stories in my head
the tales of ancient Greece
then Kali holds a severed head
cradled gently in her hand
while beneath the Shiva Lingham
someone lies upon the sand.....
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 4:33 AM UTC
There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
Something comforting.
It is a comfort only very damaged people understand- the tacit agreement to cause pain, and to receive it.
Pleasure is for people who have what they want.
But for those of us who are starving, ours is best peppered with suffering.
Being with someone who understands that carries its own worth-
I don't want you to make me feel good.
I couldn't stand it if you did.
I don't want you to touch me gently, or ask if I'm alright, or stop to look into my eyes.
I am starving, and so are you: I want your teeth.
I want you to make me hurt. And I want to hurt you.
I want you to hurt me because I'm not him, and I want to hurt you because you're not her.
We want to see each other suffer because we are starving and we need to feel that someone else is.
Don't hold back. I want you to lower me because I'm too good for her.
Don't love me, don't caress me. Dig your nails in. Drip candlewax on my stomach.
One step down from torture is all I can stand in the way of human connection, when it isn't her.
Punish me for looking at her like a baleful puppy tonight, even as you waited in my room with your soft skin and your sharp teeth.
There is nothing you can do that will be too violent, too brutal, too sadistic.
I don't want to be loved right now.
I am too raw.
I want to be touched. I want to be ruined. Leave marks. Smear lipstick.
Lower me because I am
Too
****
Good for her.
Let this heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs don't matter.
Help me **** it. Help me pin my demons to the bed and make them writhe, and I will do the same for you.
Let's exorcise our loves tonight and banish them to hell.
Let's tell our skin that it is irrelevant.
Let's say **** you" to the things that bind us. I will cut your heart out for him.
I will kiss your scars, not to heal them but to remind you that when you put them there you fought for something, something we both fight for now.
Hurt me. Fight her. Do it for her.
Do it for her because I'm not good enough to hurt.
Do it for her because I'm TOO good to hurt.
Crush me.
You could boil me alive and it wouldn't make up for her, so at least leave me bruised.
I will give you what you need, and you will give me what I need: not love, but contact.
Please,
Let my heart know on no uncertain terms that its needs
Don't
Matter.
There is something beautiful about two sad people who agree to hurt each other.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 3:55 AM UTC
Magical cauldron apomixes connoisseur
Cephalic phantasmagoria entity obliquitous
Mystical conjurous conjugal entrepreneur
Fantasia fantastication phantasm obsequious
Amorously arduous ardent raconteur
Ephemeral translucent opulence ubiquitous
Vanity sanctimonium temerities saboteur
Intrepid verve’s intriguingly iniquitous
Sorcerous sabbatical apothegms chauffeur
Endemic veracities fortuitous elicitous
Futurity fatidics fornication kithe
Ephemeral metaphor semantics flaunts
Empirical emulation scenarios blithe
Subjunctive subliminal nostalgias haunts
Agile articulation acuities lithe
Analogizing corroborative prolificacy daunts
Alacritous tactile manipulations writhe
Numinous syntactical paradigm *****
Emanate imminent perdition tithe
Orotund jaded seal ordinand jaunts
Overt convection coercions chiaroscuro tempestuous
Apex crux axis ****** matrix torrid
Manifest objectified enamorous interstice lecherous
Spurt binge spree ***** protuberance squalid
endearingly engendering amore
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
*when the moon writhe and crawling the silent night..
it was time to layover yearning who clotted for sweetheart..
when the sun excited to greet the morning ..
it was time to embed cheerfulness on the idol of conscience..
sprinkle knitted heart turmoil and dew drops each cavity of jasmine petals ..
i greet to you, my dearest sister..
each twist will crease beautiful crowded heart longing ..
so that relieved you feel full carefree breathing..
with the presence of me,
i will fulfill your every drought in the lake of your worries ..
i will treat every your petulant in lap with more excellent attention ...
return back to you as always, my dearest sister..
to pulling the curtain the recesses of the heart that always hiding ..
to wrapping blush smolder desire in your heart arms ..
because your bliss, my dearest sister..
it's most beautiful thing that can i enjoy ever ..*
-the poetry is dedicated to a sincere friend of mine, Ha-
┈┈┈┈┈»̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶ ƦУ »̶·̵̭̌✽✽·̵̭̌«̶┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
adinda
kala sang rembulan menggeliat merayapi malam sunyi..
tibalah waktu untuk menyinggahi gigilnya kerinduan sang kekasih sanubari..
kala sang mentari bersemangat menyambut pagi ..
tibalah waktu untuk menyematkan kecerian pada sang pujaan nurani..
menyemaikan untaian gejolak kalbu dan meneteskan embun disetiap rongga kelopak melati..
kusambut darimu, adinda...
setiap simpul lipatan hati yang sesak akan indahnya kerinduan..
agar terasa lega engkau bernafas penuh riang..
bersama hadirku,
kan kupenuhi setiap kekeringan ditelaga keresahanmu..
kan kumanjakan setiap rajukanmu dipangkuan perhatian nan syahdu...
berpulang selalu kepadamu, adinda..
untuk menyibakan tirai pada relung hati yang selalu bersembunyi..
untuk membalut rona kerinduanmu yang membara dalam dekapan hati ..
kerena bahagiamu, adinda...
adalah merupakan hal terindah yang dapat kunikmati..
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
She is like a fire in my soul, I crave her
Flesh against flesh, only she livens me
A slave to my lust, entranced by her beauty
I have a need to see her in pain
And in my mind, these visions I have of her
Kneeling before me, expectantly waiting
With bruises and bites, the marks of my love
Unsatisified, my longing increases
An ordinary name turns to a divine symphony
When uttered, but only with her in mind
This goddess I must make my slave
Though she'll be forever the one in control
Waking dreams of sordid acts
Fill my mind each night and day
I close my eyes and watch her body writhe
With agony and ecstasy
I pull her closer into me
And feel a pleasure so intense I wonder if I've died
She begs me to call her a *****
My hands around her neck
As I feel each breath travel in and out
And study the curve of her back
Consumed and enthralled, she whispers my name
My name is the sound of victory
Dark queen of desire, let us bathe in this fire
Of passion burning blissfully
In this, our inferno of celestial sin
Where unbridled lust meets uncovered skin
Her deafening rapture that shakes her throughout
Is all that can quell my burning within
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC