poetry of the Dark, Erotic, Violent, Religious & Macabre

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dark lover on a beautiful horse

you will not enjoy this, he alleged

as the inner child died in me

as the inner child cried in me

and the first drop of blood

dribs in the form of a delirium

stranded somewhere

between the oath of evil and

the darkness`s of pleasure

 

the second blood …

it splattered     like a sunburst

because

we want dark lovers

on beautiful horses

but we instead get men

who shower us with flowers

and stand outside our bedroom windows;

 

no doubt

he sees my soul

when he peels back

the black lash of curtains

and seizes that lone tear drop

 

on your belly, he demands my body

a one hand noose wraps around my throat

the other          guts, then splays open my wisdom

obscured by desperation; I need this `just breathe, okay?`

 

and he wants to do me

with a dildo and a vibrator

where one stimulates

and one penetrates

but my flesh is not the digital masque

these buttons that he de`presses

do not send me into a virtual ecstasy

why do you waste your time? I dare ask.

 

but there`s a fault in my system

a pheromone that calls to the unsavory

as he leaves me standing vacant

at the window

struggling to breathe

kicking my feet, pussy gushing blue

as I continue to feel the strangle

of his con`sexual violation;

he was a caller, a gentleman just before dawn

walking down that promiscuous dirt road

where the crossroads of my uncertainty

pointed the way in arrows; he never looks back

 

and I never look forward … I don`t know

if it even was a rape as it felt like winter

in bedlam

 

still … it was something even

if it had no meaning.

 

I light a cigarette          and inhale

because it`s the best I can do for the moment

rape`possessed

vocal is raspy … carries

like a crime that breaks its back

upon the spotlight of my breasts;

 

a nipple sings the blues, thus creates a hue ~

I am that sunburst fracturing in his mouth;

 

nicotine strains my fingers – pussy & index

taste its pleasure while the rest of my flesh

fights the urge …

 

he has to submerge himself

 

drag

exhale

 

I

 

drag

and he

exhales

 

come back to bed          bitch,

he whimpers like skeletons locked in closets

only visible through the plumes they smoke;

 

hair pulls through my scalp

as I remember picking dandelions

in the cold summer

one callous blow, and their fetuses scatter to the wind …

bastard children they are

in search of their fathers in all the mistresses

that had shaped him;

 

legs spread like withered wings

pussy`iron`butterfly, I wants to fly     fly fly

but the air is oxygen`less

and crushes the lungs … he has a system

for lying on top of me, hips gyrate

pelvis rapes in rhythmic emotions ~

 

he humps

he breathes

breathes harder / faster / slower

then there`s nothin`

but a silence deadlier than death

 

and I want more;

 

I        I don`t know what to make of his company

only that I`m obsessed with gazing at him

through a sort of a looking glass mirror … his cock

it stands     high, erect, the tallest building

and I want to be a bird

and perch upon it, slip my beak

in between the crack of his slit

and purge the se`men

who have sailed my woman`ship

out of the harbor

only to have my broken body

float back in;

 

did I tell you I missed you, motherfucker?

missed the intrusion despite the illusions fabricated?

 

90 proof booze on the table

I am bent over the table

and I see the RCA spinning

a damsel in heated distress …

I smell cubano leaves burning

and hear the agony

of third world slaves

echo`ing from the cinders

smoldering in your mouth ~

your chest heaves wildly

in the land of sodomization,

your cock stretches my anal womb

each push is a masochistic thrust of trust

just don`t shit     on my cock, you whispere`d

you brush back my pubic hair / wipe the tears from my lips

she`s coming up the stairs

and the best I can do

is swallow you in,

and pull you through

the broken hymens of society

so when the door opens

she`ll never know

we did things in the dark

 

if you ask me, Mother Goose was just another scapegoat

(Such a poem riffed in simplicity

but why does it bring so much contradictories?)

 

a red Rose is the least of a Child`s interest

only that it`s the main color

in a box of crayons next to black; and

the color of their favorite toy car; and

the color of a little girl`s dress

that isn`t quite a Sunday best

if it has laces and bows

and shows above the knees;

 

Violet is a flower

and has no memory of being blue

if it`s blue it`s due

to the children stepping and

stomping on their whimsical petals

as children can be so quite cruel;

no unusual punishment there …

 

children don’t know

that they are succulent sweet

they only know how to eat the Sugar

then they think you`re a perv

for using such a dirty word

to describe them;

 

to an Adult there is nothing

rosey about red that

it only brings dread on Valentine`s Day

if she doesn`t receive her dozen Roses

all vibrant, long stemmed, un`thorny

if you`re expected to be loved by her at all;

 

lovers do not think of Violets of blue

they are not botanists just civilians

trying to survive the headaches of

fashioning a garden to entertain the sane;

bring color to life in an obvious ashen world;

 

and what of the Sugar

as we are all obviously not as sweet

like the treats found in a drug store;

we are sour and sore and we want more

than what our cavities can endure …

 

 

poetic observation taken from “Roses Are Red“, a 1784 Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme; not exactly a fave of mine

porcelain, like a Doll ghosting in her shell

 

I built a prison, after the smoke escaped,

around your cannabis tongue

detaining your passion to an impassion

amidst wires barbed and fences

consumed by rhythms, electric …

I am muerto with no poems to give you

instead I`m dodging bullets in my closet

the residue of powders burnt

silence the rage trudging through my pulses

impulse`d by the treachery

that remains stained in places I`ve wept …

war of hate is being fought by a terrorism

you`ve inflicted upon me … you`ve taken

my love, my loyalist to you, hostage

 How can I ever repay you?

a glass of communal chablis has lost its savor,

my nipples know of no value only that

of a strawberry dipped in the synthetic river styx,

that my heart had been ripped systematically from me ~

too much haze to blaze upon this theological glory

but there`s a story there, you know, of us

of orchestrated lovers maneuvering in the dark

and catastrophic roaches oaring on the mayflower

and on the abril`s sea of seasons

where the sunflowers and blood adorn

like you`ve never mourned for me ~

but as these tearless tears gas upon a gussied face,

porcelain like a doll ghosting in her shell,

you opened my robe and slipped me a note :

`True, I started a joke that got your whole world crying’

I poured hot tea into your tiny cold cup

and spun it `round to the girl crouched over on knees

with floral needles bleeding her hands please

and then there`s a man who doesn`t understand

that I`m not your bonsai tree

I could say …

`Look what you`ve done to me`

but sadly it will only be a shame

`cause I no longer have love [for you] on my brain

 

 

Horrific`a

 

whispers of blood
descend upon my reign
hold fast to the slain of your pain
for your bowels are at the hands of my mercy
so much pleasure in your dismember`ant
are you ready to repent?

what is it, my Love
that drives your screams insane,
untamed within me?

is it the seamless design of mankind
to fornicate scalpels across your flesh?
or is the ability to inflict
chaotic misery and thievery
in the absence of your God`s grieve`ry ?

shh, my Love, do not speak
there`s nothing here but the foul and the reek
you are my hostage in bondage lesser than a meek.

tell me, my Love, have you had enough
of my living death
for I can assure you that this isn`t
the last of your dying breath.

I have much to carve to slice to peel to feel
stop writhing, my Love, I have yet to seal
you fate within a catacomb of hate …
for me

you`ve forgotten my Love,
all those little serpent demons
dwelling in your carded house of semen`s
how you treaded on the vulnerable of my grounds
as you spun my head dizzy while your lies got busy
hour after hour sweat flesh pounding against sweet flesh
did you lay and betray all my secret secrets
with your treacherous mis`behaves …
secrets you can now take
to the Devil sharing in your grave
all your senseless whining and cries to escape
for the ill that you caused … tisk, tisk, my Love …
did you not read the fine print
of the no escape clause
of lovers who use and abuse
will automatically lose?

so this is what you`ve become
from a mother who bore you
and a father who molded you
a victim in a mistress`s lair …
and there`s no hope in all of my darkness,
just a Queen as mean as a killing machine,
hellbent on rage to pillage and plunder
and drag your unholy`ness under
chainsaw`s, axes and knives
to saw away, to chop away, to cut away
every inch of beauty that dwells in your lies

so as I stand here gazing splendid
upon your ingenious soul
I cross`criss myself for the valor of your birth
here on the marvel of this un`Sainted earth, and
for the sacrifice I am about to receive …

`cause hell hath no fury like a woman deceived 

 

 

 

a snippet gospel of rage [dt dark in priests]

 

and he whispered:

`do not go gentle into that good night’

against this bodice that lies

feral & fetal`d

during his enchant`ed h-ours

of purgatory;

 

and he whispered:

`old age should burn and rave at close of day`

for at a quarter to meia`s-noite

skeletina bones in cath`olic girl ruins

break de`lovely from my flesh

for his breath is that of godly pigs

departing toward the gates

of epic slaughter:

 

and lastly, he whispered:

`rage,

 

R A G E   against

 

the dying of the light`

for unconsciously, I have ascended

descended consented

to the viral die~mensions

of priest`s dementia

where darkened silhouettes emulate

and emerge from the leviathans

little box of gospels

sheltering these scarlet fractures…

cummunal sobrieties often

in the mimics of human dogs

have hinged these breasts

trauma bound shackled

guffaw is the nickelodeon trinkets

it`s masterpiece hooked and hinged

my pungent floral, detached from reality…

nothing gentle into that good night

 

 

I am not Dorothy

 

I was caught up

between the floral bitches

and the witches haze

lost be`neath the thunder

of plastic bridges; I am not Dorothy

lost in her blinding oz`s maze

and these tracks I bury

in my staggered path

are all that I have left

to remind ~

 

the dirt fields trenched

have been migrated and excavated

and they split through my legs

like valleys in rows of sacks and salt

my cunt bleeds produces seeds

tulips beg for a drib of sip of yore;

in my mind, I climb the  highest tower

I have power to take flight

and when I let go to sow

snow white in her whites

lightening eclipses with my body …

and I become one with the sky;

 

and so high my immorals fly

I feel like a ma`ruin`d canary buried within

a red crow cocooning within a graying eagle,

you say that I am

but a feathered enigma to your touch

that I am one failure you cannot solve

nor resolve or absolve

for truth`s be told;

 

I am a red splintered

glass slipper

 

I will only drop my house

on you

 

I am much to penetrated

within your tornados

 

 

 

welcome to the xxPORNOSHOPxx

 

Teriyaki diamond boys dickin` wood

under her supernova bonsai hood, Rated X

has nothin’ over Vin Diesel`s triple X

as there`s not enough cum-rage in xander`s cage

she`s got a lot more junk in her equal~opportunity~gang~bangin`~trunk

than a thrill seeking junkie trying to play pin the tail on the donkey

bunghole bowlin` has her strollin, lookin` for gutter Sally

to French her two fold alley

`cause she needs more than ten still pins to drill her “ins“ and “outs“

but if you were my baby boy scout

I`d bend you forward and flog you all over

smear citronella on your cinderfella

God your mouth must be a blow suckin` killa!

and “Ooh“ Johnny cock`s corn and he don`t care

cause he`s the juicy boys number one little fuck toy

holin` it up in prison & cells, smile you son~of~a~cunt

the camera`s rollin` on your meat~beaters hell,

and you’re who`s Bitch now?

so she`s a bestiality barnyard beauty Queen

once mama`s little cutie suckin` a thumb & chewin` bubble gum

now she`s jackin’ on pigtails & swattin` tails of horse rum

so men put a leash on man`s best~friends, keep `em studs off the streets

`cause she`s the bad~mama~jama~bitch~in~heat, and sadly you won`t compete!

and welcome to the Pornoshop where every thangs drop

dead & gorgeous, clean shaven, a superficial haven

where porno clitsters & hairless dicksters know how to

single dip, double trip, triple split

where foursomes become five & dives then a hive of orgies

`cause it`s all in the Game of Groans & Moans

soon they`ll be replaced by drones

where everything sex will become a hex

of the mechanical & tyrannical

but for now …

change the channel Marge

and come to bed with your Homie,

he wants to feel your skanky blue head

as he thinks about Stewie slippin` Lois is baby huey,

American Dad is a genuine fag

& poor little Claus in his fishbowl house …

and will the real Dev please stand up

`cause this here poem is truly fucked~up!

 

 

Lucifer up my Sky with Diamonds

 

forgive me satan, she said

for I`m about to sin, pluck the bobby pin

from my matted hair, sit my soul

upon the liar`s chair

and I bind you devlin

upon a hangman`s tree

the devil comes to deal it hard, 3 times 3;

Ooh, such misery in your painted woman`s goth

I stand before you

crucifixed and bathed in a river`ed styx cloth;

And what, did you think you can honestly

outsmart me, I`s like that saying sows

“misery loves company“ only I won`t

splinter your bones, you`re a tone

I need you to groan in me …

and cockadoodledoo goes the red cock

feathered on the fence, and fall you will

down to your knees

hands criss~crossed

in a pentagrams pence … and praying for

sixty~six our father`s & six hail mary`s

won`t save your lover from

beating down those dirty hairy`s

or taking a road trip down that suicide strip

no bitches will be tongue bangin` those fuck poles

if that`s what he`s fixin` to find,

love is invincible, a bawdy principle

like resort style cunts sippin` on manga vodkas

from a mini bar buffet but oh that fucking sunset

where love is not for consumption on a grapefruit;

and ei~ei~o blows john doe kicking down priests

baptizing those bloodletting beasts, fisting & feasting

the discarded & diseased … and what of those nuns

bumming cigs & sex~arettes, slam dancing` to

crimson & clovers drunk on vatican wine

`cause after this, nothing is a do over;

and it sucks to be sober you say as you come to lay

your catholic spit upon my radical clit … lucifer`s

up my sky with diamonds but for whom

the bells toll is the real show let me kiss you slow

as I straddle and strangle your tongue deeper than deep;

it`s midnight, twilight, last flight to hell`s blight

as I slip back into my broken glass slippers you slip back

into you slumber … you have a ticket to ride

Molly’s white line highway

but you`d rather pay the boatman his due

you’re fucked, my luv

and

I’m screwed

 

 

God, how I fucking love you ~

 

 

doll dis`Catholic

doll dis`catholic

I sought your wisdoms

in the flatlines of your unholiest ghosts

and in search of your vile and vain

did my maimed bodice whisper `Samhain` …

as your insanity caned the flames

in my erotic goths it was

the man of the cloth

who fucked me biblically

against a pentagrams cross

orgasms spasm`d   

                                                  `Fuck you[r], God!`

 

I screamed within a deathless dream

did I dream of slugs unloading,

of your chest exploding

at point blank range

and what dispensed

was a forty day death sentence

with your soul

suffering a penitence

but not before your Gomorrah`s

sodomized my six

in six our Fathers

and six hail Mary`s

 

     and senseless were the demonic goats bleating in my moat

 

you think you are evil, my precious one

partial to the beast, at least

you have some decency

but no woman can feast

like the dis`catholic bitch in me

I`m the left hand of the Devil Black

the unholy trinity of the holy three

my ass  my mouth  my cunt are all

but the sacrific`isms of a witch hunt

 

     have you tasted flesh, my Erotic Death?

 

laced like heroin

I`m a barbarian

self`injecting upon an open wound … your wound

uncircumcised around your tomb;

but oh my Darling, my Baby, my blood Beelzebub

let me exorcise the exorcist

from your communion breads

let me drench the seven plagues

upon your atheist head

let me be that slithering Eve

to spread my anti`seeds

and bare angelic deeds

of splendid greed

 

     will you let me fuck that apple in your throat?

 

 

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