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 ~
sprayed are the tits chrome . . . w i t n e s s us
FURY
is the road
through my
cunt
raging like the ferals
bubonic and castrated, and
permeated are the feral gag balls
sloughing in thy open mouth;
sodden exterminates bask in the wound
strangled in the thirstless with scorpions
zigzagging through the hymen
of my valley of shadow of death
immortan janes are the wizards
wasted in the wastelands where sand
is the ashes of bones
and I see the dead
in all the living
no matter how precious
those skull fuckers fuck
triple v8`s rape these roads
leading to the tubes fallopian
via the menstruationals throne…
there are no babies readied for
the cum~unions of putrid and foul
just marked graves where death X
fetuses mark the spot ~
I am perfect in every way
fucacima war girl…Girls…
destined for kamakrazee redemptions
as I am not awaited
where vikings become vessel kings
and queens are bred, conversing backwards
for I am the barbie suspended
on a cats pole, pitching vengeance
the bodice the bloodless the boundless
against the tranquil sunset like a blazing star
empty of wishes…
spray`ed are the tits chrome ~
w i t n e s s us
macabre en concerto
head slammed
against a microscopic window
of rectang
they took my laces
and my belt ~
I`m left with padded screams
and teeth clamoring for a bite;
hands, they scent of the ocean
sunflowers some
where some
how
have riddled with the reefs …
poetry
in a zig zag paper
have blown pre caution
to the wind … I miss your maggot bliss
on a strawberry tinted nipple
and your pores
aged in musk have settled
with the dusk ~
I`m scared
unprepared … the creepy clown
has wandered back into
my down`d
town …
daddy, he
don`t hurt no more
and mama is buttering the spread
in spider-ant-roach-dust-mite dust …
I miss our lunch hour trysts
under the boogeyman vines
as you once played dracula on my neck
but those hickeys they had
grown wings and minds of their own ~
flu from my flesh;
and what is it
with the ghosts in my darkness
silhouetted on a concerto stage
oh, yes I hear it now, the human macabre,
for rest still my un`sobriety heart
it`s just a passing the urge
to kill and be killed in return …
but who`s blood is this stained on my hands
mascara dried and caked and smeared? … tomorrow
is the day for the deers, I shall run
as you ride shotgun in my mouth
beside that pitch black soul
in that bright white suit;
it must be sunny outside
because I had a dream
and you weren`t in it