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

Posts tagged “Diva of Darkness

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 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


FREAKness on the loose

 

Hail to the Slayers & its Naysayers & Jeff the Killer!

unAmerican Horror stories have all been misplaced

disgraced, annihilation~raped by the Gods of youtube lubes & cum~panies  

5 Nights at Freddie`s is the satanic norm, inducted in

Slenderman`s Hotel Forestas Hell~of~Fame

in the stain of slain`ed backgrounds, goth music expels

of where the Creepy Pastas dwell, homos & cidals 

there is a tidal wave of disciple blades & munchkins who misbehave 

and who is your wicked Witch of The Bitch?

don`t follow the yellow brick road, hope doesn`t exist

`cept in a gram of red slipper coke where Dorothy slit

auntie Em`s American Gothic throat somewhere &

under a rainbow turning Toto into a slut-of-a-mutt!

`Shh` to the flickers of flames, Jane is a deadly dolls dame

a tumor, less than a child`s whimper & rumor

Oh my `lil Puss in Boots how she needs your fleshy suit

to wear as petty & coats around her acidic moat

she wants to flounce, booty bounce

stick your prick with her virgin pins & needles & sticks

‘cause Bloody Mary has nothin` over

her rotten cherries … so pass the Tampax please!

menstruation is a lyrical femmes demoralization

con~to~the~damned, spread the disease

from dead ovaries & chickens that pox

calamine~cum~lotion is the Cure,

no Love Song~s in The Hanging Gardens

of Charlotte Sometime~s

just puss filled bubbles &

band aid scabs over a wounded heart …

no one understands

just Puddin` on batgurl`s hands

 


slave

scarlet rooster crows

     death S O L D

to the highest bidder;

 

barbiturate bitches

perched in slumber rows

emulate visual inhibitions

of Kama Sutras as the “I’s”

of the un~naked

grunt Ketamine dust

masturbating to hymns

of opportune wonderlust;

 

as the scent

of sandy musk(s)

transcend into   psalms

of rustic dusk

striations in the form of V’s ~ plead, tear jerked

to be stroked,

     provoked,

  invoked; 

bad hits from a bad fix

she pants, she digs

vaginal scorpions

from her shallow womb;

harems of virgin harlots

they ~whisper~ to her:

 

‘Curanderas

 

shattered witchy women

clothed from eye-to-toes

ageless tattoo’s of turquoise’d turtles

translate biblical kismets

at the rupture of her

                                hymen

she bleeds deflowered *Amen* ~

 

I want my maggots kissed

 


epidural.

 

I feel nothing.

 

skintiments

are like

a jigsaw puzzle;

I cannot interlock myself

<———————-back

—->to that copious landscape

where mad cows &

blind crows came to

graze and perch upon;

& once upon

I was that

unvarying pain

reflecting

off your tongue

where you spat

tears of saliva

’cause you refused

to irrigate my bushes;

you are numb inside,

so you say, then you say,

I’m a tokophobic

’cause e-v-e-r-y-thing

you deposit in me

there seems to always be

that jewel encrusted scalpel

assembling upon my virgin flesh

resembling

slut digging maggots;

burdens

terminated,

excavated,

disposed

in a doggy

bag;

 

then you say

you’re empty

inside,

then you

have a cigarette,

change the channel

on the HD

as if your fucking misery

is all my fucking fault.

 

but

& still

 

I feel nothing.

 

just like those

“in-labor” mothers

giving birth

to fucks

 

like you.

 

 

 

 


Poem #36…(thank you Frankie Valli)

big girls don'c cry pic 1

.and big girls don’t cry.

 

 

whiskey

                  diamond

teardrops

plunge eternally

from my cunt ~

she weeps bittersweet

for you;

 

I’m 80% proof

                                             [20% denial]

that my clit

is capable

of moving heaven

without

the gentle fondles

of your tongue and

fingers ~

 

‘big girls don’t cry’, so you once said

when you left me

desperately

suckling your cum’s residue

off my heartbroken tits;

the twins miss the subtle

of your hands and

mouth;

 

and ‘big girls don’t cry’,

I dare to echo you ~

 

I wish you could see me           now,

 

how disappointed

you’d be

sinking me

to a level

of no shame.

 

 


.devil’s ‘lil plaything.

devils plaything pic 2

baby Bling

in a black thorned g-string

she’s the devil’s little plaything;

long raven black hair

her infamous

barbed wire nipple tassels

have their own marquee flair;

notorious in her stripper’s Hell

watch her venomous body

cast a barbarous spell   [on you]          

 

around

the devil’s blistering pitchfork

she twirls,

pre-levitating her fiendish body

up

post-levitating her nefarious body

down

while her blazing tongue

lap dances around

the famine

of her unholy mouth

yearning to delve south   [on you]

 

demonic little slut

watch this satanic little bitch

strut

her barbaric lust

as she thrusts herself       [upon you]

 

feel the degradation

of her internal heat’s

infliction

as she rapes herself

against your serpentine’s

erection

 

feel the vile

of her hellborn cunt

rapture’d in it’s daily hunt;

feel the hellish wrath

of her devil’d ass

invisibly

banging your body

into a cum of

black mass

 

she’s a diabolical

conviction

an erotic junkies chaos of

addiction

eternally bounded         [you will become]

in her infernal prison

of one

where the lust of her evil

dwells

in the devil’s dirty secret ~

 

for she’s every bit of

Heaven

just beyond the gates of

Hell

 

 

 


.pale shade of misery.

a pale shade of miser pic 2

 

and the taste of you

                                remains

 

red raptors galloping across my tongue

sprout de-feathered wings

of salted sulfur

shedding barbed wire scales

w/ tooth and nail

off my flagrant skin;

you licked my cunt

then kissed my lips

so how deep

did my love go?

 

I want to make out

w/ your mouth

and have you scream

my name

 

                 in agony ~

 

it’s midnight

and my bedside

is empty

for I have a broken face

that I cannot piece

back together

but I can paint the thrashes

where ‘X’ marks my grave

the way leopards

paint the spots on their skin ~

tell me, Sir Demon within,

when we meet again,

will you stitch up my heart

so it’s no longer jagged

in two. . .missing wires?

And please,

don’t touch my face,

this pale shade of misery

is hard to find

in a drugstore.

 

 


~ Cuervo Fire In My Blood

cuervo woman pic 1

                                     v e

semen throttle thrust o       rdose

white crotchless panty’s

hang on the [clothes]line

leaving the battered

of dildo zombies

preparing for the next flesh war

under a pink mushroom head sky;

~

I am a one woman,

        a~sexual

in my southern comfort

                                      cunt-try

no amount of Jack Daniel’s

can drink away

these bluegrass tears

while hooded gators

snap at my feet, and

cuervo fire burns in my blood;

~

he once reigned under my body

with his silver flask tongue

he said he’d take me to church

if he could put a ring

on my va~Gina

and not on my finger;

his cigarette ash lush

still lingers carnivorously

when my thighs part

and kiss the sky;

~

I swallowed

this shallow and dense grave of ours

after you castrated

the bull who sodomized my parched womb;

eventually

I grew our little piece of birdcage heaven

on my tongue

and we frenched kiss our wings

to Paris via a tourniquet

dipped in cuervo caliche

the color of rustic earp blood.

 

 

 

 

 


Diva of Darkness: volumes I~III Promotion

 

Diva of Darkness:  Volumes I~III eChapbooks will be available for FREE from February 14th through February 19th, 2016 on Amazon.

(click on book covers to download)

Diva_of_Darkness_Cover_for_Kindle

Diva_of_Darkness_Cover_for_Kindle (1)

Diva_of_Darkness_Cover_for_Kindle (2)


Bee

your venomous virgin honey

still reeks

devastation on my soul;

 

pinions that once flailed

so luminously

have lost their essence

to the dark of your blackened thrill

still embedded within my heart,

the same heart you wielded your

false love around and oppressed

to a bloodied pulp

still remains an open wound

where your treacherous stinger

impelled and splintered and died,

raping me of any hope. . .for love

 

for you