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
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 