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498 · Jul 2019
Wicked Holy Child
zebra Jul 2019
haunted
I am an unanswerable mystery to myself

pain
griefs food

belief in uncertainty
is like a medicine that makes me ill
loving the danger of things
like a tender ******
or the superstitious atheist
or the oversexed who convert to Catholicism

in a tither of religiosity
I lift Mother Mary's dress for a taste

irreducibly splintered inside
I feel
religion is quiet like the dead
and im pulsing sin
passionate perverted and metaphysical
a lover of hard headed ******
and goo girls
whispering ***** things in my ear

oooow mercy of nakedness
she holds my **** like a gun
pulls the trigger
and i pop her
panting she bleeds out butter ****

got her good
that big hearted ******* *******
criminal

the Devil has his contemplatives
as does God
and Christians say **** that
This is an intertextual piece
partly based on Pico Iyer's
THE MAN WITHIN
494 · Aug 2017
MADLY IN LOVE
zebra Aug 2017
we have fallen madly in love
or perhaps
we have just fallen in love
or we certainly
love each other
but maybe
we just need each other

a moratorium on desolation
its possible no one else would have us
and solitude will seal us in
like black stone gargoyles
that crush the sky

will we not turn to naked rain
wandering transparencies
bodiless monsters
like desolated desserts
with led mouths
horizons in retrograde
while ****** lips
sallow vagrant hollows

our eyes windmills veiled
stained with tears
road signs
no one can read
and weeping
no one hears
491 · Aug 2016
Puppet Souls
zebra Aug 2016
the movers the shakers
the doers the bakers
the candle stick
and rocket ship makers

a race of captains
setting course
on circles of pyres
bereft of remorse

parsing madness with words
in reasons on reasons
giving life meaning
against inner treasons

founded on tissue thin
mental accumulations
biases and ticks
and vague assimilations

with subconscious shadows
over Palimpsest traces
we are convinced
we know our places

building the self
on struggling riffs
captains of the dual
navigating ships

occupying armies
assassins lens
horrible secrets
terrible rends

are we not in control
making choices
weighing and calibrating
hearing whos voices

thinking there our own
between good and bad
but outcomes are crazy
dragging mad

do we choose thoughts
from shrunken forms
from rotten gods
in darkest storms

or perhaps possessed
by invisible believers
pulp hearted  creatures
pulling our leavers

that possess our soul
choose for you
what you think
and what you do

emanations from spheres
through our core to our brain
ephemeral forces
a patinaed, puce stained

skyway of cruelty
kamikazes dread goon
gods crossing each other
poxed ash moon

can we stop reflexing
with brazen compulsions
can we stop lying
with wrenched emotions

can we defy the elements
make someone care
transcend all that harms
and bring love to bare

can we shed
all we know
choose to move on
and choose to let go

are we trapped
in space and time
will we not struggle
Sisyphean blind

or are we mere avatars
in a game from x box
acting out our program
like a hunted down fox

we have five senses
to get through the day
with infinitely more
we could smooth out our way

brains like thumb stumps
form violence and hell
hooves of dragons
we buy and sell

what is a puppet
it moves as its pulled
by forces beyond it
is that why we are fooled

are we deluded
that we are the doer's
could we be puppet souls
of gods that are losers
490 · Feb 2021
Does Anyone Know
zebra Feb 2021
does anyone know
where i can get an app
of a strange woman
moaning in the bedroom?
489 · Sep 2017
BABA YAGA
zebra Sep 2017
Black agat cat
koshei-deathless
fire in a skull
a conjuring crone
grand mother of terrors
nag
draped in black
the key hole to her door made of teeth
black salt queen
she rings the  alter bell
her curse
return to sender
address known
dancing alligator pendents
worry dolls
worried
she dances on chicken legs

For many years now
I watched her son
"I have been trailing this old murderer,
this cunning ancient seducer,
this revolting old rake,
deformed by old age
yet disguising himself
time and again
as a youthful prince charming.
This crafty hunter
of the broken-hearted,
this vampire wooer with a voice as bittersweet as that of a cello on a lonely night,
a subtle, velvety charlatan,
a master of stratagems,
a magic piper who draws the desperate and lonely into the folds of his silken cloak.
The ancient serial killer of disappointed souls."
This Poem is taken from the mythology of Baba Yaga....Slavic Witch
and the writing of Amos Oz excerpted and put in poetic form from
A Tale of Darkness
487 · Jun 2017
Lament of Bazoozoo
zebra Jun 2017
accumulations of suffering
by patriarchs religion
and poverty
deprivations withered hand
self pity was converted
into a knot of emeralds
and stony unfeeling bones
that puncture and clutter the soul
with a blackened hollow
and
a quicksand of taboos
rendering her life limp
her only extravagance
free will
a choice within choicelessness
she resorted
to a rope around the neck
in a shanty
suicide her best friend
485 · Jul 2017
SHE
zebra Jul 2017
SHE
eyelashes like butterflies
her smiles felt like a slippery aqueous
tongue around tender pink ****
milk lover
she cut a curving line through desolations heart
her souls eminence
red lipped and smooth
her *** a bomb
shattering my heart
like splintered crystal

there is only her
 
beggar for naked kisses
she swayed her hips
like a fish net hammock
oh summer afternoon wind
beguiled
i licked her warm musk ***
mauve slicked mouth
pink light
her seeds thick

so grateful
thanking god
who knew darkness
could be such a blessing
liberating souls
reconstituted psyches
spins the world
Valhalla
tender ******* bruised
weeping undulations
eager for bleeding
arches
polychrome
rainbows paradise
drunken angels copulating
on silver clouds
ravishing dreams

her **** my refuge
her warm belly caress
adorations scandalous
bent on knees
in worship
every tender
brush of the lips
a prayer

foot kissing
love slave
he is
hers always
478 · Aug 2020
YAH
zebra Aug 2020
YAH
in a dark laboratory **** hospital
blood in the mouth
**** & **** thank you

bleeding milk cow
needle kissed
love enema
for a wild ***** monster in heat

***** of love

gnosis in action an anti path
fires of existence burning Sulphur

third eye bleeds light beyond existence
the left handed path

desire
the creative gone mad

after the liberation
comes the revolution of spirit
through sexualization
of the human world
a life beyond the ritualistic gesture

dissolution into the abyss
containing all
comingling the divine
and human spheres

devolutive
i consolidate my desires in her

addiction file
smoke
drink
****
die
and thank you very much

the flesh of god
"melts with the one who
creates him"
......
In a universe created by the separation of Void and Chaos you are your Flesh – העין שמאלית
....
Q.309 is the definitive rite of exit from ritual and separation; represents the code of access to metabolic energy flows that are cognitive tools.
The atomization of the rite, the rupture of the chain of being.
The ardor of prostitution (πορνεία) is intended to solicit the dynamic contraction of the Divine.
intertexted from quadrato 309
V.L.F. Laboratories.
469 · Jun 2019
Mortician's Kiss Goodbye
zebra Jun 2019
I'm not coming back
no more vain rebellions

hello to nothing
from the inquisitor of nothing
no ones home but shapeless shadows
cutting across mysteries
of multiple worlds

an empty head
so patient
ghost moon

my legs aren't tired anymore
here in the undergrowth
of slugs slides and slime
whispering hymns needle green

buoyant belly on the rings of night
libation of death
apprehending the void
dissolving doom broadens to immensity
like a light flicks on
wonder wave

no death for the dead
they could care less
nearby in endlessness
stretched out on a couch
spumed mouth
papyrus frail
creature of black steps

waking will not raise burnt wings

where I lived and was broken
noon day demons lost
I dangle from a nightingale floor
burning hair waves windless

linking one self with the other
like night with day
gales of dreams
falling lulls weave me together
like a thorne bridge knits fate
hand over red hand

mind of winter
now I inhabit you
slain and shaken
460 · Oct 2017
ASS MAN
zebra Oct 2017
according
to some people we are all going to hell
because god made us all ****** up sinners
and we don't hate ourselves enough
to be worthy of redemption

well I'm ****** up for sure
and as far as i can tell your ****** up
but the good part is you have an ***
and I'm an *** man

you know
"the position of power"
don't you?
thats right, when you bend down low
and rhapsodically sway your hips
as an enticement
not that i need much encouragement

so all is not lost
that is if you don't get all ****** on me
and act like we have to be in love first
although,
I'm pretty sure i do love you
no
I'm not just saying that to use you
i really do love you
how could i not
with an *** as lovely as yours
:D
*** adult explicit
458 · Jun 2017
LIPSTICK RIOT
zebra Jun 2017
she thought who am i
there are so many of me
am i not veils and masks
even to myself
like a locked box
am i not peopled
with miscreant brooding hordes
of shadow selves
whispering gods and demons
taking space up within
like a coffin attic bedroom
to be rented out
for some wayward spectral family

oh children of the night
arguing like
black quilled throwing porcupines
players of dismal warbled music
that sounds like nails scratching floor boards
in the cold dread dead of night
at Holiday Hells Inn

see me she thought
am i not
an icon of responsibility
bright light
sweet and good
engraving angels on silver
making all sacred in the marvelous calm

wouldn't hurt a fly
oh no
me oh my
showered and smelling like
Chanel
she the feminist
her favorite words

"thats disgusting
and no"

until her fingers sneak down her pants
feeling like a flowery beautiful woman
who weeps to be naked
raked over desires hot coals
and forced to worship
big cocked men
to be engorged voluptuously  
like a stuffed butter ball turkey
until her eyes roll back
like white moons shuttering

where gratitude is met
with bay *** and ***** tongues
a celebration of thanksgiving
and thanks is really given
with a star performance
leg show
lubricated for the baking oven
garnished with pineapple
dripping
tipping head over heels
at dizzying heights
hanging from a swinging chandelier
bejeweled
upside down girl
doing butter **** splits
to be scraped off walls and ceilings
like whipping cream whipped
and subsumed in the perfect power and glory
of
NO MIND
zebra Nov 2022
Needled fingered hematologists prepare our dinner. Her name, Mercy, all body candy, tattooed with a snake ****. Her ******* pierced with rose paved sparkles and ******* stabbed with bat shaped studs. Nurses sharpen knives while quack doctors tend to little plastic dolls and blood bathers with crossed femurs in hospital beds where they are cultivated as condiments. Between the umbilicus of limbo, and the theater of cruelty the rational world remains a derelict void. Welcome are hallucinations that abolish reason, that give meaning to blood shot gazing eyes beyond the limits of sanity, where madness cannot be opposed in a world of tug a war monsters and gods. Lyrical voices of demons shoot through Mercy's nerve membranes, while a marching army of squat shadows move like flames in a vacant lot of burning violets. Monsters groan. A snake head eats its own tail in graves of scattered voices and speechless tongues. Arteries pulse vermillion, naked and wanton waiting to be pierced for sanity's release in a lyric of dread's desire. A tidal force lifts a dirigible from hell in a fountain of blood while Jesus has a cheeseburger moonstruck in torn *******. A spreading bride dissolves hoop-armed around a formless shadow hallucinating her beloved killers foot stones kiss. Mercy Kneels on the Dias subserviently. She is sumptuous and a willing betrothal in a gauzy white gown. Happily, headed for death, she disrobes and centers herself on the long knotty table spreading wide smiling, as if a performing dancer, a naked contortionist in a shadow that flickers. Her knees bent to her chest, ******* heaving, her red rose toes pointed, feet arched. She is ready for the final churning and dispatch. Vampires with moonish eyes crouch on all fours like ancient bushman with black wings like hovering capes to eat her with little teasing bites and licks before kissing hisses and insinuating their bifurcated tongues followed by needling punctures that look like spider holes with reddish volcanic mounds and a leaking web of blood rivulets on her pink primrose pudenda "blood on a sugar cube" mouths, feeding mouths, feeding mouths, licking each other's claret tongues mixed with foot kissing adorations and pinkish toes red blooms and  mad mumblings about the grace of Satan while burning black sabbath candles and incense, uncrossing themselves in cosmic Goetic rituals during devotional masturbations and copulations to give thanks and pay homage for fear that their god would take their girl away, their lovely girl food dressed in hemoglobin crystals, their sweet bleeding lover at fangs point, their peaches and cream, robe of blood and starve them.
Vampires are like the rest of us, hunger always wins, hunger for beauty, hunger for love, attention and shelter, hunger for every ******* thing. The vampires wept tears of gratitude licking torn sumptuous flesh like wild cats on the Savana. The pain of their bites excited Mercy, oh it hurt so, while they filled blood goblets of her, weeping and tumbling downwards in her honeymoon crypt like a spooling galaxy as they ate her belly, throat, eyes, and **** with their switchblade kisses. Mercy drugged on ketamine pushed passed the unendurable limits past limitless pain, like a burning witch laughing thinking in fractured clouds, and hot *** heaping ******* at the site of her depraved condition before sinking into an impenetrable dark water labyrinth of death. Her lips glossed black, the color of the grave, her hair dyed red and purple, her thighs and belly trussed in white gauze by ladies in waiting. Her areoles scorched and punctured as incense holders. Vampires coalesce, with fangs and ravaging kisses, biting Mercy like wild hyenas with panicked raw mouths of red saliva diamonds. Mercy gushes blood like a red river banquet, chained and strapped, legs stirrup wide, her feet beautifully arched and just so, glistening for fiendish kisses. In a candlelight ritual she is copulated by both sexes and fed upon. Mercy laughs like a loon screaming as she is lapped up by the wicked gift of ravenous tongues. Half devoured she emerges, a blood perfume delirium. Mercy arches upward and writhes in a blistering frenzy. Her eyes glare like a tempest then go vacant in loop tee loops in and out of focus. Her mouth, a red licorice lipstick smudge, gapes like twisted wire and pierced blood-soaked lips. In a ghastly shriek Mercy's belly oozes while the very last of her falters. Mercy surrenders her remains in a last hideous lament. Her hair looks like matted steel wool, her nostrils wet with mucousy brine. Her eyes bulge from their sockets, while a single smoldering finger in flames still burns as if it is a candle. Mercy tumbles downwards like a spooling galaxy as they eat her belly, throat, eyes, *** **** and nibble on her toes while she lays prone on a worn blood-stained porcelain Dias and spreads wide exposing whats left of her innocent bottom and smiling like a bewitched demon.
458 · Apr 2017
SINGLES-VILLE
zebra Apr 2017
ive been to singles ville
arguing with myself
in the midst of emptiness
a dinghy in a storm
scattering me
while masquerading as stupid happy
i am a hurricane through a hollow
a penumbra of echoes
hot house of desire
needing a fast *** fix
all fools day
praying for the sin of skin
oh bilious cloud
solitudes toil
bodies dread winter
aching to be touched
maybe a cold slap against plush lips

where friends mean the world
and every slight
dries the heart brittle
gnashes teeth from a rattling jaw
on the verge of panic
a spire a desire
trawling ***** for loves balm
an empty horn
desolated
ORPHAN
SINGLES VILLE
WEDDED
.....
A SHORT TRILOGY POEM
ABOUT RIGHTS OF PASSAGE
456 · May 2019
Clueless
zebra May 2019
the night disappears
without a touch
and your eyes stare like boiling heavens

you are monster kisses I can crawl up to
lips blood clot cake
that never heal
it rains howling phantasms, concrete
and dead eye bombs
nightingales of tragedy  

this is my dream of the world
her form a moving mouth

she fills it
with a billion slums like black flowers
vast and strange  

our sin
we are born clueless
broken
and die that way too
453 · Feb 2018
Bread To The Bone
zebra Feb 2018
Ill eat you like a *******
and her dark little mad sister too

will you share my face?
just a little foreplay during corpse moon
all weeping kisses
as I lick your mouths last breath...
crimson smile's
for milky sheath

you lift your chin high
cheshire grin
a begging shell
devil girl in waiting
with every pulse of blood
drowning kisses
a torn shawl
and midnights sleeps caress
in shrunken gauze
my body your mausoleum

your
pomegranate ****
disappears while cooking dinner
for broods clamor

waiting drenched
for your ghastly desert
eaten raw
like bread to the bone
while others sleep
in flickering dreams
adult ....dark ******
450 · Dec 2018
The Poem
zebra Dec 2018
the poem started with the word
the
it wasn't a good
the;
it didn't sit on the page right
like a head with a bad perm
another poem started with the word
the

the the
had so much integrity;
it floated on the page like a sun drenched cathedral

i can only surmise the magic of a poem has in it the ineffable soul
of the writer

are the good writers nonchalant
talent dripping
or are they secretly *******
their the's

******* on
the the's
making them gleam
glowing hard
polishing them with a spit shine
so it sits on the page
with a sense of superiority

some poems are nothing but arm pit stains
no matter how good they are
black listed from love

others
stratospheric
sky-blue uniforms
with bright yellow kerchief's
you cant take your eyes from

they are
the
crowning glory

the
the
in the
the

God of the
the's
peaked like a maraschino
with pastel and golden sprinkles
on a ball
of vanilla

a the
like a high end Mercedes
with the scent of lavender
and the magnitude of the
Botafumeiro

a
the
to **** for
447 · Jul 2017
LEAKING BLOOD
zebra Jul 2017
looking down
its a zoo of keys
my computer spits out
another ****** poem
quizzical brain
racing fingers
on a keyboard
with the letters rubbed off
**** in the mouth
from lukewarm
bitter black coffee
thick as stew
like turgid dog ****
nitrous fumes sifting upwards
through broken floors

from the TV screen shrapnel
the news is leaking blood again
down the dresser drawers
red puddles float slippers
and the cat licks

my poems
always writing me
i'm their ***** typist slave
terminus
with time off
to be *****
by a savage delta of images
of women misbehaving
with their *****
tonguing my face
for an occasional *******
and *** drifting rainbows
in old ballet shoes

dogs died from blue pellets they ate today
their corpses were strewn in the yard
and the mice are quiet
zebra May 2017
she lived in a bathtub
with a rubber duck
fished out of the ocean
by seafaring men
trawling for sirens to love
and mackerel

a murmuring mermaid desolated
only able to speak neptunium

i would have you believe
that i took pity upon her
but in truth i fell in love with a fish
a beautiful fish girl

it was her scent that drew me to her
a vaporis substance
like bouillabaisse

i inhaled her breath
feet
***
****
mouth
saliva
i carried her back to the indigo sea
to swim with her

always wet
shriveled and shivering
glazed and fuddled
i drowned
seven leagues under

fish food
444 · Jan 2017
Medusa
zebra Jan 2017
you were a wild child
with a wet sticky ****
you played with it often
on a pillow you'd grunt

then mama betrayed
licentious you
with ruinous morals
don't play with your goo

girls keep their legs crossed
and don't talk to boys
*** is for grown ups
and ***** aren't toys

your hardened your heart
kept your *** in a box
to be a good girl
grew cold like a pox

emergent depression
sadness and cold
you had to say no
though the boys where so bold

soon there was rage
for no reason at all
your hair turned to snakes
cause boys wouldn't call

gorgons are demons
that turn men to stone
from endless denial
here comes the crone

then comes the fetish
she aches to be dead
she poofs out her ***
begs, please take my head
My poems remain explorations of the subconscious ******
If i where a film maker or a novelist  you  would see me telling a story not judge me  although i admit to my paraphilias  
These poems  are lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness from the deep chaotic subterranean glitz of transgressive  impulses we all share
Read them if you dare...You might find that part of yourself that you don't want you to know about
439 · May 2018
~ Anonymous
zebra May 2018
"To have someone give you control of their bodies and minds,
to be entrusted with the responsibility to take care of them,
to have someone willing to suffer for you,
to forsake pride and dignity to please you...
what can other gifts in this world possibly equate to that?
And more importantly, what makes you worthy to receive it?"

~ Anonymous

The Feminine Paradox

while i live for anonymous
do you think she is a freak?
does she not own her master
with the rarest of adorations
more
then those in the temple of thinning lust  
with mouths like twisted placards
screaming
"know your value"
and
"just say no"?

told by
Victorian prudes
what is permitted
full of pride
in shapeless days
yet counting the insults of puerile lovers
one moody scar at a time

a *******
Eve
could take a lesson
from
bruised titillated Lilith
*******  

with the sadist, the cards are on the table
fingers like
gleaming swords scented with ***** perfume
that drool for her quivers.

he melts with feral abandon from her cries
as she thrills exhilarated
to pains promise of pleasure
crucified and pitted
like spiced guacamole
on hot fire-tongues

his, bruising buttery shaft
her God
drooling yoni his salvation
her form a jeweled flame
a swirling constellation of blood and sweat diamonds
writhing undulations and ****** mouth
all chattering castanets

better than most
they give each other their truth
to take and to be taken
like pierced sparrows fluttering in paradise

then
with tender kisses and aftercare
quite like the watering garden

they are rinsed guileless
drenched flowers sweltering
in asylums
moonlight
and made smooth
by the hand of God
...........
"oh baby
i like it when
you do that dance
gonna stick my ****
through your underpants"
The first part was written by a woman in the life of dark sexuality and ****** masochism
a collaboration
.......
A slave submits primarily to her own nature… That she requires a material, extrovert focus for her submission, i.e. the dominant, does not alter the fact that on the spiritual level her submission is essentially introverted. One could say that through the dominant she submits to herself by proxy… Each makes the other possible, tied together as they are in symbiotic interdependence.

~~ J. Mikael Togneri
zebra Jan 2022
Aside from my love of women who own their sexuality and being the spawn of the solar phallus dragon and ***** **** of fire, you know mom and dad, let's face it a lot of people are pent up about ***, so anything illuminating on the subject and its various forms, perspectives, sensual aspects and subculture is nothing but a good thing unless of course you are a die-hard *****.

Broadly speaking marrieds and long-term couples grow bored with each other, and singles very often go without *** or even being touched for extended periods of time. In both cases it ***** and not in a good way. Many singles remain fixated on the idea of finding that special person to alleviate their sense of loneliness and many if not most marrieds remain starved for a bit of novelty and are understandably afraid to transgress for fear of the jealousy and pain of betrayal with the loneliness and insecurity it often brings. Of course, there are some who work hard to disown their sexuality all together as a solution.  I see this as a kind ****** & emotional suicide, a moral masochism if religiously motivated and crime against the self.  There is in fact very few of us who manage to find a way to have it all and have it that way most or all of the time. In other words, the entirety of our society has a baked in structure that creates a sense of pervasive despair about ****** desire, not to mention the immense suffering that comes with loving and not being loved back.

Speaking of moral masochism, I find it ironic that the clergy who are sworn to celibacy and outwardly kowtow to the most rigid repressive codes of behavior have been and remain appalling in their rampant *******.

Perhaps whats left is to be driven into a labyrinth of hermetically sealed shadows that incubate a kind of sensual theater of transgression and taboo where simply everything goes.
Well, this writer has lived in those shadows like many others and consequently decided to explore those dark corners both in relationships, and those interior grottos of self through mental construct phantasmagorias and the language of poetry to spotlight this web of pathogens built into the very scaffolding of our psyches and culture.
As a poet I dont want to mimic the ruling culture. I want poetry to be like good ***, as in novel or intimate or perverse or underground like a creepy girl with a little blood on her pigtails in a fluttering dress with great legs just asking for it.
Poetry in its frail orbit is often only seen through the lens of genteel romance, social justice, of documentary, of collective resistance, or perhaps the propaganda of some other public iconography, a kind of literary imperialism in its lock step with the prevailing dogma trend lines while *** remains oddly off the radar? How could that be with so many barking and yelping genitalia, talk about repression.
Is the poetic form collapsing like a drooping mouth from too much pretentious baroque gentility in mildewed assure skies and verdant fields? Has Pandora been dethroned, and stripped of her gloomy yet torrid box of troves?
No folks shes under our bed's, in our brains and DNA disturbing us while we try to avoid her primal groans, groans mind you that manifest in the shadows and then erupt into arguments, tears and the rip apart lives.   

The reason I write about *** is I'm in search of a sacred space where language serves the psyche without artifice, and that makes plain the difference between the conservative public conversation and true innerness of the intersectional shadow lands of self towards a better way to live.
431 · Aug 2021
Keepin It
zebra Aug 2021
keepin
it
too
real
429 · Nov 2019
The Loneness Machine
zebra Nov 2019
just a naked light bulb
obsessed
with the swimming shadow i cast

slushy brained
with a ****** iota of a heart
driven by the loneness machine
that keeps me company

modernity grows black metal teeth
technology
nothing quite works anymore
except the inflexibility of algorithm's

they are my slave
and I do what they say

my upload is down loading
to a disappearing file
marked nervous breakdown
on a blinking screen of high velocity electrons
apocalypse of endless virtual hysteria
in a spectrum of LiteBrite

my wife screams vomitus epithets
at the computer
every ****** day
***** **** stupid ***

but
on the other hand
i dont need to navigate
the complexity of human relationship's
any more

i like my new virtual girlfriends
***** with long legs and *******
with her lesbian friends
playing in a barrel of lubed ******
and **** thingamajigs
preggo, and *****,
having *******
licking edible *** beads
with her best friends
Hypno girl
Kink Ya
LiL Red
Toxic Candy
Slutty Bunny
and
**** Bait Bon Bon

a cabal of delicate feminine monsters
Subs and Doms
like a garnish of pimentos
red fire kimchee ****
and sweet butter pickles
and if i lose a girl friend 
the spiders will find me a new one

i'm just a man getting on with life
driven by the loneness machine
that keeps me company

i'm just a man getting on with life
driven by the loneness machine
that keeps me company
zebra Nov 2017
she had a tattoo
of a duck
on her ***

I ****** the duck*
:)
adult explicit ***
for duck lovers only
424 · Jun 2018
Rainy Day
zebra Jun 2018
it’s a rainy day
and all i can think of is
God watching me disapprovingly
brushing your pink soft feet
against my wet mouth and nostrils
entranced by the smooth curve of your arches

is that spiritual, i wonder
adoring their scent
admiring the cotton fluff
from your socks
white as angels
soft as indigo silk
floating like little puff clouds
on your shapely pinkish toes

your red nails
remind me of ****** daggers
while i bleed troupes of silvered tears upon them

a Christian sacrifice?
or is it
a Satanic Black Arts Ritual
wanting to feel them slit my skin
because i love you so much?

i devote myself
that you may be so kind
as to step carelessly upon my face
like a treading wheel
pushing in my eye sockets and lips
like stones in dirt

i get down on my knees
and prostrate myself
while you place a light of the world cross
around my neck
and carve an incandecent pentagram
on my skull
to sanctify

what shall i do with this
spontaneous impulse of spirits hunger
so ardent

am i dammed
to love so much
red angel?

will you extend your pointed toes towards me
to receive my tremulous lips
and cleansing tears?

i’m ever yours,
killer
queen of love and pain
love adoration ******
423 · Apr 2017
ORPHAN
zebra Apr 2017
of the teenage years
when parents become strangers
an emergence of a new self
orphaned by maturation
the old shelter of mommy and daddy
a dead wood forest
a leaky roof of annoyance
sharp elbows
in the hovel of mind
no more afterbirth dinners
we get our own food
pull off the wires of obedience
we are a new hat
eyes to the sky
no more being dragged through old valleys
step up and off the precipice of dependency
an upward sweep
to find shaky ground
in shadows labyrinth
holding roses
destination unknown
ORPHAN
SINGLES VILLE
WEDDED
.....
A SHORT  TRILOGY POEM
ABOUT RIGHTS OF PASSAGE
418 · May 2016
SATANISM IN SUBURBIA
zebra May 2016
oh satanism in suburbia
its such a fun thrill
scare the **** out of Christians
goes down like a pill

god is good
satan is mean
but there both tyrants
oh what a scene

no god is mean
satan is nice
long as you love
fire and ice

are we not sinners
oh what a rap
live in fear
and don't be a sap

two back water religions
fighting it out
a testament to cruelty
no matter what you spout

trapped in 3 dimensions
blind as as a bat
they have  it all figured out
with the brains of a rat

god and the devil
now theres a choice
between two meanies
you have no voice

choice with in choicelessness
that is your path
its the wrath of god
or the black mass

give me a brake
what a sad cast
darkness vs darkness
look at your past

some ascend in darkness
and fall in grace
the path to god or devil
is such a dry place

life is complex
with myriad lore
forget about tyrants
and discover your core

there is darkness and light
they are both who you are
integrate them now
and be your own star
418 · Sep 2017
ANOTHER LANGUAGE
zebra Sep 2017
Some of us believe decency a is cruel hoax
It's a ghost.
a woman wearing a frilly dress
in a room of tinsel stars
and the leash of immortality
a big hush with searing looks
and knee knocking
that speaks,
across rooms and boulevards
in another language
between myth and truth
the myth of principals  
and the truth of primacy
still blood flecked from the last incarnation
and a twisted smile that dazzles
like nothing you've ever seen before.
414 · Sep 2017
HELLOOOOOOO SATAN AND GOD
zebra Sep 2017
Lets get over the stupid **** about God and the Devil
Satan is the serpent power
originating at the base of the spine, this is primal power corresponding to the id
With out Satan you would be dead
This power regulates primal autonomic excretory and ****** functions, ie. survival and supports the higher activities of the body mind and soul
corresponding to the ego and super ego, your God
The ego is and integrative mechanism that stands between Id and the super ego ie Devil or Id and God or the super ego
The id is the original primal survival mechanism and true will not to be ignored or denied
The light is born of the darkness and is born-less
The darkness is eternal  and the light is everywhere within her

The super ego is discernment ...principal ....reason...ethics and ideation's of mythic heroes , not to be ignored or denied  
In religion  aspects of the higher self are personified as a Christ, Buddha, Krishna etc when God takes human form
and the Devil is personified as Satan, Asuras Beelzebub Demons or various miscreants in human form  

If Christians adhered strictly to total purity they would have to  insist on castrations and analectomies to purge their so called evil elements   and die because surviving with out the lower is undoable
conversely the Satanists would require lobotomies or being guillotined because living without essential principals is indoable 
God and the Devil are not mutually exclusive except when they're  viewed through the maw of religion...God and the Devil are different sides of the very same coin

In the royal yoga of the the east  when the serpent power ascends up the spinal column  the id, ego and super ego are instantaneously integrated and transcended into an all together different order and the fractured nature of self is over come by unity

This unity transcends all myth and concepts of god ie. religion ethics morality
It is a totally transcendent order..
In western terms as a human you stand between the the higher and the lower
Spiritual evolution is not about taking sides its about the integration towards a whole self
You are potentially the magician who mobilizes the lower to serve the higher
This may be an over simplification but
you use your demons to create a base ...they are work slaves to get money so you can go to your temple, your home...the higher self in effect and reflect on the beauty of life

.hellloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo­ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox­oxoxoxo
CAN WE **** NOW :)
413 · Feb 2022
Roulette and Justine
zebra Feb 2022
You can't talk about love without talking about its absence, deceit, desire and perversions.
Despite Justines intention to live a virtuous and moral life
she repeatedly encounters debauched and depraved individuals who demean her in every sense of the word.

Justine is brutally and incessantly violated, yet always eager and docile with big ******* eyes like portals of magic.
Using lunar rituals and oneiric transmissions she masturbates incessantly in alley doorways while imagining being backdoored in a bathtub of oiled men - and time will not take that away.

A queen of pinups and a scape goat without a safe word
She is held hostage by desire interlocking her with a **** vampire
living in a stone-cold chamber who texted pitiful Instagram posts about beautiful scarification, the pleasures of narcissism and beauty that left her always feeling like her own undertaker.

How does it work to protect yourself from yourself in this bitter city of the mind where silver flies, pocked faces and little worthless pennies in knotted dreams hum into the cells of your mottled brain?
413 · May 2021
Small Town
zebra May 2021
small town
big hell
zebra Feb 2017
do you know why i cant take my eyes off of you
because i know deep down inside
your so hot
you must be to good for me
i learned a long time ago
not to love people like you
even though
i
oh so do
your countenance is a weapon
maybe if i didn't love you so much
you would love me more

i pretend not to notice you
can you see me not noticing
can you see me smiling and talking
to others
like i dont care if your so dam charming
are you getting jealous
i hope you dont see me wanting you so desperately
noticing you
are you noticing me
but i didnt see you look over this way
whats the hold up?
guess im not your cup of tea
or
i bet your crafty
playing games
maybe

ill do a tarot reading
what NO
two of cups ?
NO
lovers ?
dammm
maybe the i Ching
what
darkening of the light ?

ok,
the psychic hot line
ouch
seventy dollars
and the psychic is just getting some vibrations
one hundred and fifty more and counting
and we still haven't got to the last card

how about candle magic
wow
new candles from pan pipes
burning
red of lust
blue for Jovian expansion
green for goddess Venus
queen of loves trove

thee i invoke Dianna
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee


im shaking inside
waiting
and running from you
are you watching me run from you
are you asking your self why i run
does it make you want to run after me

i read a book on how to get you to fall in love with me
it says
imagine my head is a magnet
and your metal
and when i press the magic
imaginary button
your instantly magnetized
falling helplessly my way
like charged particles
**** over heals
yet every time you pass me
my head bends and twists uncontrollably towards you
finding myself standing so close
not knowing how i got there

my heart is murdering my mind
ive been talking to myself about you
like a self flushing toilet
that never stops

thee i invoke Dianna
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee

thee i invoke Aphrodite
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee

thee i invoke Astarte
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee

for i am the lord god
and every spell and scourge
shall be obedient unto me
till hell freezes over
so mote it be
for the star of six is fixed in stone
tee hee hee


i better go over and talk to you now
407 · Jul 2019
I AM NOT A ROBOT
zebra Jul 2019
69 69 69 96

I matched the lips to the ***
I am not a robot
just dyslexic
406 · Sep 2017
BOUND
zebra Sep 2017
Bind me up today, Sir.
Please!
I am begging you, now,
down on my knees.
Doe-eyed, sweet, looking up at you
I am your total love-slave,
through and through

trussed thighs  ******* and belly
on the alter of sacrifice
and drink from your warm plumb belly
dark mulberry waters
your bound feet held steady
yet trembling
as you are unwound
loved, furrowed
your mouth sealed
that your eyes may scream bright

I am here to do your darkest bidding
your basest perversions,
high morals slipping
my **** is soaked and my heart
on fire
I am quivering, so ready
with  unsheathed  desire

you, a melting candle
a  drooling ******* warped
opened and parted
splayed
on a white pearl alter
where you danced and prayed
cooing to be drubbed
your mouth wet and thick
from a thousand glittering *****

and so Sir. I plead in devotion
devour me tonight
consume my body of delights
I am your servant of appetites
both wild and bizarre
I crave what you want
and want what you are
and this savagery, piercing
will wash through my soul
as you penetrate my world
my secretions in flow
a fiery glow

your naked mouth begging
for slow mortal wounds
spread wide
you embrace dark snakes
for languid bites
who set you reeling
goddess forms
tremble and wither
a voluptuous agony
a confetti of *******
pain so dear
it only doubles ardor

Let us fly as we open
and you rip asunder
all silk shreds
and make me complete
I lay down my sword
supplicate
polish me hard
reach the jewel
of my soul
aching pulsations
from labyrinths motes
and lighted palaces*

dilating
you tremble and perspire
the ordeal merciless
your legs lassoed and stretched
protracted
heals above head
a pungent fruit weeping

crying to be hollowed out
a gushing tempest
lover of the slow sword
oh, a naked chaos
your face a wild zoo
torso weak
a writhing stew

i cradle you in my arms
a conjugation of tender mercies
yet diabolical
crazed with greed to devour

you appeal
strike me
sure and determined
this very second
a whirlpool en-flamed

i bind you in spitting distance
you bare your throat
a dare
glare a nymphets smile
whispering come on
now
now
now
and as we pour our ******* into each other
i pull your head back hard
your face  bright for a wild paradise
as i wound you wide
oh oh oh oh you squeal
undulating underneath my grasp

i drink from pulsing arteries
consume frenzy spasms
milky pudenda howling
in heaping waves
staring at me
while spiraling into darkness
your hair drenched
a crimson baby doll
gone mad
a thousand eyes raptured
and then darken
you fall like silk off a foot
a broken oozing creel
the gorgeous breathless
to be wept over
for
all
eternity
anonymous collaboration
sadomasochistic adult *** explicit
405 · Oct 2021
Women
zebra Oct 2021
women cause wars
by shopping
and my plane
has two right wings
405 · Jan 2017
The Big Bang
zebra Jan 2017
physics has it
that
space came from
spacelessness
that time came
from before time
while we have evidence of a past
old movies and old bones
we have no evidence of a now
what is
a now
a minute
a second
a one thousandth of a second
is it calculable?
perceptible?

they say
the universe is 14.5 billion years old
an ever expanding
eternity
in a population
of infinite universes
occupying multi dimensions
with
unimaginable realities

so why is it strange
if i go trans-gender
in my black lamet dress
and ziegfield pearls
pantilesss
dressed to the hilt
a glitter queen
in pumps
to an all lesbian
***** drooling
lip licking
***** bang bang
****
and surprise the ladies
with
my
big
succulent
pork
sausage
gooey tipped
curved
jewish
skinned
bulging
buttery
throat gagging
kabasa
401 · Sep 2019
A Poem
zebra Sep 2019
A poem
a strategy of concealment
about epic development

a war between love and artifice
inflections and innuendo
imagining a fiction
or the absence of imagination
as in shed or replaced
a truth woven from reality and fiction
strangely mixed
like a wild flute song
and the distinct glitter
of floating perfume
400 · Oct 2018
Nothing
zebra Oct 2018
refined out of existence
i have nothing to say
so let me keep on saying it
zebra May 2016
what if a man and woman loved each other
in a most extraordinary way
and every mourning while they ******
they beat each other all day


black and blue and busted up
is how they looked to be
and all the neighbors shuddered
in the cafe by the sea

when asked by the cops
what the trouble seems to be
the man and woman looked over and said
none officer we are free

to **** and **** and hurt each other
any way we please
to cry in pain and *** *** ***
and yes it stings like bees
393 · Feb 2017
RANT
zebra Feb 2017
the soul
a collection of
thoughts aptitudes weaknesses biases predilections
a jumble of mind
and what of free will
and what of karma
are there not
fates pleasures and furies
yogas of myriad heavens and hells

we find our selves
a short stay in zombie land
are we not the living dead
have we not the freedoms of the living dead
to suffer innumerable casualties of mind and body
short lived pleasures and repugnant destinies
to be inducted into armies of labor and war
no work no eat
the mantra imperative
even rest exists for exertions sake
to fight with our intimates
or if alone to fight with our selves
about our desolation
divided by the chatter of inner confusion
reality distortions
so pervasive
we drink water from mirages

palimpsests voices
dubbed over lays
voices over voices over voices
a cacophony of whispers
our version of free will
driven by the  impulse
to get get get
and while we
lose lose lose

are we not
manure for an acid soil
destined for head stone city
all the getters
piled high
and buried deep
are we not  dim witted children
of the blind impulse
panicked
reflexive doll mannequins
in a world so muddled
that we only know what we
be LIE ve
390 · May 2017
BALABOSTA
zebra May 2017
im breaking apart over you
dark girl flaming
blond bomb shell
toe head
red dread
black coal heart
with
lime green nails
and
cherry lips
fire breather *******
toy
that plays with me

im your top
spinning dizzy lolly pop ****
im on the floor
at your feet
you kicker
your a balabosta
that would feel so good
if it didn't hurt so bad

your foot
my crotch
high heels
and hop scotch
right in the labonza

better smoke some **** and recede
turn up the ****** music
to forget that
YOU
SAID
NO
389 · Nov 2016
my love sleeps
zebra Nov 2016
my love sleeps
i watch
a ***** ******
creepy creep
she subsumed in covers
i pull them off
her bare feet glisten
i think to smell them
caress them with my lips
sugar plumb toes
little pearl buttons
how sweet
i claim you
i want to see you wear the ankle bracelet
my name an engraved sigil
your my ****
delicious and o so willing
your *** a poem of evocation
wordless
that weeps and smiles
with coos and oooows
that adores tongues dark desire
oh lolly pop ****
adorations summer fruit

i float to bed beside you
like a shimmering cloud
my face a blur
a shroud
cuddles your warm *** crack
purges tears like crimson wine
that fall down cheeks of azure

im an astral specter
come to ****** you through the night
with ethric tongue and ****
that reach to your heavens
a shadow dream  
perhaps something you ate last night
that dissipates with mourning light
can you feel this brooding absence
ache for you
can you hear him whisper your name
like rushing air and ivory powders
have i not claimed your soul
****** nocturnal
389 · Jun 2017
THE UNDOING
zebra Jun 2017
iv'e have not quite come to terms
with that dark thing that lives within me
oh lord
have mercy upon ophidian's soul
have you not enslaved me
with desires despicable
drawn darkness over me
with a black wands curse
into
feral gates castellation
as I sleep
towards mournings flaring sun
with aches infernal ****

i behold images of
hung women sway-less
heads pressed firmly against stone walls
legs and feet splayed behind
squandered treasures
******* yellow soaked with *****
so ghastly
my darling
so touching
oh lovely horror

she said
to die that way
in a little room somewhere
would be perfect
so easy
even pleasant
as lips brush caressed
she cooed whispers
protect me from
from the cruelty
of grizzled age
and heaped infirmities
like stones on threadbare silk
that unravel and tear souls
sorry and dull
until collapse

standing tippy toes
her head on my shoulder
arms around my neck
my soul her mausoleum
undulating as if a rounded wind
eyes like rushing poems
pleading

a bloodless brain
she mused
better than the delirium of
glittered fizz
cocktails

we could do it in easy stages
all tender accommodations
as you lasso the rope
gently around my neck
and attach to a sturdy handle
then lay me firm upon white linens
with wet-lipped kisses
and let me drop weightless
like a slipper off a foot
into sweet
night tides
nirvana
386 · Jan 2021
Psilocybin Eyes
zebra Jan 2021
i shot some **** and
wrote 15 poems
smoked some ****, took some acid
and then wrote 10 more finishing up
around 4 am in the mourning

                                          a ***** deed done dirt cheap

cumed like juke box music
playing "tonight's the night"
in a sea of big *** ****** Babylon's
playing dead with psilocybin eyes
looking like spilt eggnog
in some hyper metallic transcendental flash

                                         *** mutant ray gun ****

you're a serial killer in a good way
she muttered
after a long **** of gag and spit
from mouth to ****

                                            gregarious **** pistols

only to send me on my way
after cuming in multiples of various hazardous materials
with a how not to **** pamphlet
written by Bim Bim
along with her reverie
about the origins of the universe
and how black holes are just
future life giant *****

                                       **** poet martyr of the future    

her best friend
the ******* queen with a strangle fetish
slapped me on the wee wee
with a paddle after I filled her midnight madness
with a kiss and a jumbo jar of Vaseline

                                             dial a **** poem

"There's a hidden epidemic of men who are ***** by women.
According to a wide-ranging study, around two-thirds of men who report ****** victimization say their assailant was female"

"I met a man who who was victimized by a woman when he was a child. He is, to this day, afraid to be alone in a room with a woman."
The Cut-Up technique is to writing what collage is to visual art. Its recent use was pioneered by William Burroughs and Brion Gysin, and later David Bowie used it during the 1970s. The basic method is simple — write a piece of work, cut the paper up with scissors, and rearrange the pieces to form new phrases and new meanings.
384 · Feb 2017
Vanilla Verse
zebra Feb 2017
theres much about
every aspect of life
that is a violently alternating antagonism
of expulsion and absorption
love and hate
for half of life is an excretory rite

are we cowed
by subtle prohibitions
permitting only
a charmed
poetic version of the world
that stoops to be a projection
of unreality as superior
like pie in the sky religion
with an unconscious mission
to degrade ****** reality

poets affirmations of vainglory
buried in obfuscation
and ingratiating metaphors
word salad
evoke
poet as coward

unwilling to satisfy
souls in search of
there own buried parts
generating
habitual secret bitterness
in avoidance
of elaborations
deepest inner desires
or worse yet
apathy

is to much of poetry
a guano infested dust bin
of niceties
an abandoned
mouldering hovel
spinster musings
literatures dark corpse ?
380 · May 2016
we met once
zebra May 2016
we met once
a brief exchange

are you a confection?

you so blond, silken
soft green eyes
you move like music
skin like milk
a smile like an invitation to the love boat
swimming pool after hours
admit two

your dangerous to a man like me
even superman has his weakness
beauty is your weapon
my kryptonite

you pulled the trigger with your countenance
one in the heart, the other right between the legs
i use to feel like electrical colored sherbet
and now im nothing but a mono-chromed grunt
only able to speak in nouns
just an ugly plant

im on the ground
if you took a moment
to console, to hold, to kiss
id feel better for a moment
and then start to shake apart all over again

i want you like heroine
addicted addicted addicted

your glance an entrancement
with it you can send me to heaven or hell

am i in trouble?
379 · Feb 2021
The Bleeding Edge
zebra Feb 2021
Pleasure is so close to ruinous waste
nakedness wrecks decency
degradation feeds the bonfire of hunger
and the wound of desire bleeds away within

leave nothing
but the bleeding edge

ruin me  
she said
Influenced  by the writings of Georges Battaille
375 · Oct 2017
Blood Moons
zebra Oct 2017
i just wana be
your sweet dreamy demon lover boy
nocturnal emissions crimson puddle
a storm brewing over your body
blood moons kissing
your eyes in my mouth
your *** a sanctum
spired kicks
and hot spit licks

Satan and the Saints weeping
like naked torrents
i play her like a cello
a languid dirge
licking deep deep
with utterances  
wild caress
like black tea
steep steep

mouths gaping like
cherry blood raw
and dark jam
a vampires moistened lips

till **** drooled and pooled thick  
muscles flex taught
we are voodoo dolls in flames
all falling red ribbons
i am a pole of lightning
you all *** smog spread
your tongue a flogging lolly
spilling sparks

the body of this woman
a crying wound
red sun streaming
freaky kisses
flesh eater drinking
beaten bones and skin
marrow melting

*** crime
sublime
who did what to who
is it bad
are we sad
where we've been
is it a sin?
adult sadomasochism *** explicit spicy
374 · Nov 2019
Shambles: A History Of Art
zebra Nov 2019
Broke Artists break
looking at the art
of the rich and famous

you know
the worthy
the up town crowd
anointed

and thats the art history
you never hear about.
369 · Jun 2017
MILKY WAY KISSES
zebra Jun 2017
my beloved
i will come near
feel my hot red shift
as i stretch out
into the distance before you
do you resonate the pitch of my siren
may i expand your universe
flatten out your space time continuum
charm you into my gravitational pull
will you spread wide for the big bang
as i scatter your senses
with extraterrestrial interstellar *******
and tender clusters
of milky way kisses

will you?
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