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

Posts tagged “Devil-lyn

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

 

 

 

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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 pic 1

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

macabre en concento pic 5

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