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sleepwalking thru fallthe area i tried to compromise
the sunset has left me blind
i don't worry i don't worry
i don't worry about how much i worry
spend all time behind movie screens
seeing movement as raindancing
i've never i've never
i've never seen this place before now
watching nervous fingertips
skilled across satin necks
i don't think i've got this right at all
sleepwalking thu fall
8BallHe exists somewhere along K Street and Elm.
A strange ghost with absolute and feral eyes. He is emaciated thin. Hollow. Gaunt. White, waxy pallid. Dirty blond in an impervious and meticulous spiked wave across the top of his skull. Shrouded in discarded black denim, arms bare, jacket-vest open exposing a strip of concave, smooth, particularly sallow torso. Boots black and thick. About his neck found, shiny trinkets on a length of dog chain locked there forever with a tempered steel Masterlock with no key.
A frightening and weird dog in a cold, unstable, dilapidated city.
Echoing an undomesticated animal with a white-blue sunken stare a thousand miles far and wide, he appears out of place and out of step with all else around him. He commands it like a Viking.
He is unreadable. Shows no sign of anything representing cultured and moral humanity. He is a compressed wolf, super-focused, ultra-quiet. Contained, maniacal derangement.
There have been old women from the Old Country,
It was quiet perfection.
Inventory but passionate.
i felt his orbital bone.
i’m certain he felt temple
opened my eyes. oh so
too close, but clear.
a clear Blue iris begged.
pupil enlarged, begging, pleading.
His eyes implore me.
He impresses with deep blue ocean
eyes as navy eves in the midnight dark.
evergreen ivy pulling me down down
down to the ground
black pools in asphalt vacant,
following the rain down down
down into the streams,
into rivers and
mocking His color.
how i wish i knew the taste of Your thoughts,
so sweet like brandy-warmth.
my only weakness is Your sight.
my cast of characters ache for me, said.
my cast of muse and blood tumble the sky and sea, said.
destruction at it’s finest will wring from me sweet surrender, said
had You been there,
had You been real,
You would’ve witnessed my ruin.
and thus been c
DAY DEVIDES NIGHT
DAY DEVIDES NIGHT
The phone ringing ended sleep. An intrusively brutal digital jangle that pierced through slumber-numb ears.
I woke in an odd position, sprawled awkwardly to one side almost hanging off the edge of the bed itself, my back aching from the contortion and…
…And Andy! His short salt and pepper hair, eyelids shut asleep, and the distinguishing bridge of his nose. Curled tightly against me with an arm draped over my ribs, the way couples would sleep. Lips parted as he breathed softly, warm against my throat. I lifted my head slowly and stared at him with curious surprise. He looked peaceful, contented, his expression soft and fine. Momentarily, at least.
With my movement, though, and with the incessant digital tone of the ringing hotel phone, Andy stirred to consciousness. He lifted his head from the pillow, from my shoulder, and looked at me with drowsy eyes. A brief moment of confusion. Then he jerked up and away from me as if scalded. His eyes wide, s
I sat out on the pool deck of the Sea Sprite hotel late on a Sunday night in June, watching the moonlight dance on the waves crashing against the beach. It was quiet, empty and a little cold. Wisps of marine layer traced the sky, obscuring the stars, scenting the air damp. The cherry of my Winston 100 burned brightly, dancing streaks in the dark.
My world heavy, I’d come out here to ignore myself, and maybe try to destroy myself a little more. The six pack of Corona Extra sweating beside my deckchair.
Sundays always felt sad these days. Lonesome. Visually pretty, but mentally depressing. Sundays meant some kind of end, somehow unknown. I sighed heavily, tugging on the bottle, and smoked.
From the foyer I heard soft footsteps that suddenly hesitated, but then proceeded closer. Rarely did anyone come out to the pool deck after ten. In my periphery, a thin man appeared to my left. I looked up, finding a sharp-featured aging face with shy blue eyes that had been
Hallucination Uncle Duke on Vegasseveral years ago, i was extremely sick for several weeks with what would turn out to be some kind of blood infection. during this time, i hallucinated quite a lot; the most potent and poignant one being an argument i had with what appeared to be Hunter S. Thompson (aka Raoul "Uncle" Duke) over who exactly was the hallucination. this, despite illness, has stuck with me over time and i tend to slip into Uncle Duke's written voice on occasion.
today, prompted by a friends observation upon current-day Las Vegas (coupled with the nightmare that is Circus Circus) and referencing Hunter S. Thompson, i surmised what a piece of my brain broken by high fever would pose.
"Uncle Duke would cringe, he'd ponder, huff some ether, eat some acid, and say that it is exactly what the American Dream has become=a worn out 2-buck whore, slap dashed with designer make-up and knockoff haute couture, all just to RageQuit QWOP it's way into the next century. (altho, i kind of doubt he would've known about Rage
Just For YouJust for you,
A poisoned rose.
Breathe it in,
The fatal fragrance.
Just for you,
A poisoned apple.
Take a bite,
And fall down senseless.
Just for you,
A deadly needle.
Just one prick,
Just for you,
An enchanted dagger.
Take a stab,
A human no longer.
Just for you,
A golden shoe.
Slip it on,
And watch it bleed.
Just for you,
A crimson hood.
Put it on,
And get devoured.
Just for you,
A golden key.
Use it once,
Your fate is sealed.
Soon You Will Have Peace Forever
People live to be alive.
The dead die because they leave.
Not because they should go now,
But because they want it so.
Life was beautiful, like the sea,
Yet hatred repressed it very much again.
With mighty wings comes the angel,
Explains life’s mistakes and lacks
Until you stop confronting the life
And you want only your peace.
He leads you away with Black Guard,
Away in your huge coffin,
Takes you to the realm of the dead,
Your body, your soul and your mind.
You have called for him and now he is here,
The angel of death as your courier.
Spares you your grief and your pain
And let you brag of your future.
The past – the life – already forgotten,
You have to compete with the death now.
Now, you stand there in the dark of the night,
Christmas snowflakes dancing around you.
“Did I want to die?” – “Why am I here?”
I can tell you, life was hard.
Slowly you become tired and you get very weak.
Now, you are not awake any longer.
Finally, it is th
Demon-Queen of Blackened FireShe came in a flash of fire and rage
Black-clothed, horns curling upwards,
White skin, red eyes, metal cage over her face.
Everything burned, even the Goddess,
The tall tree at the edge of the ocean.
Children wander now, lost and alone.
Adults with haggard faces cling
To relics of the past they can’t let go.
Teapots, baby shoes, glass bottles,
Memories of green and buildings and swans.
Now the sun bronzes bare rock
Ground littered with new growth and pebbles.
Humanity survived, hiding in sanctuaries.
Fields of cotton, a windmill, women in
Bulky coats or slinky dresses wander.
It took the final power of the Tree Goddess,
Hidden in pyramids only the powerful could see,
To vanquish the demon of blackened fire
Who hid in abandoned offices, ruined schools,
And old, dusty homes no one lives in anymore.
There’s hope now, children and women laughing
Making homes in green-painted buildings
Where no one had considered living.
The swans flew back, the earth bloomed slowly
And new life
Doctor PouliDoctor Pouli
The Doctor stands, suited in his garments black,
Staring, watching, as the bodies stack.
The bell tower chimes, a Sunfall dies,
The river breaks and carries demise.
The bird beak protects us from the hollow grave,
Keeps out the disease that wishes to stay.
The rain is falling upon the shallow holes,
The wretched lives the Queen has stol’n.
Dark master, keep the birds at bay,
Within the gutter where the children lay.
The roofs are slick and wet with blood,
Of those who speak of the morning Sun.
Fair Doctor, heavy boots upon the ground,
Twist your head, and mark your sounds,
Keep the bells ringing all around,
The chime echoes the Heart that pounds.
The eyes watch and the Queen receives,
Her tower of coal and empty thieves.
Her children, Sickness, Pain, and Death,
Sing merry songs with toxic breath.
A festival made of sugary tears,
Iron flows like dreamer’s fears.
Leave the Rosemary by the tower door,
Remember her even as you go to war.
SustainBare your bleeding heart to the world baby
With dripping veins of violet poison
Love, I promise I will tear you apart
Teeth gnashing and shredding transparent skin
Such stunning eyes of heartbreak red
They shimmer and glow under pale moonlight
Do you wish that you were dead instead
As toxic thorns stab at your lungs
Heave your splintered ribs in your chest cavity
Feel them shift into your shattered glass soul
Tell me you taste death on my tongue
Because darling I'm ending the charades tonight
I can hear the hope in your thoughts as it spirals
Cracked fingernails reaching out to clutch it close
Manipulation, fall victim to the sound of this song
Dance with your head on the ground sweetheart
The fact you've endured me so long is unnerving.
Her SilenceHer silence is perfection, golden and wondrous
She used to be such an irritating little chatterbox
But all of that ended when fate brought her to me
I kneel before her, my hands resting on her knees
And, as she always does, she pulls away
Her big, dark eyes sparkling with tears
She's been crying so often lately...
I'm sick of seeing her constantly in tears
I think I'll take her eyes next
Love and CupcakesCupcakes are perfect.
More orderly than cake.
No one complains that they
Didn't get the big piece
When it's all nicely compacted
In a tiny paper cup.
So artful and
Sweet, perfect for friendship or
So of course it was perfect
If not more than he deserved
For him to die
With the cupcake on his breath.
He was just like many
In the news after years
The face of abuse
Dragging them along like
Helpless rag dolls.
Their faces were sunken their
Bruises showed and
Everyone noticed but
No one asked.
He smiled ordinarily as
He ordered from me while
They in their fear hid
Behind his massive shadow.
Why one like him was
Questionable but I did notice
That he ordered
One chance to change it all.
I smiled very wide and
Said that I'd be back.
And as I retrieved his order I
Chose a cupcake
And spare ingredient.
I handed it to him and
He paid and huffed as though
I couldn't touch him.
The secret, of course, is love.
I watched as he c
JuneAll dead and gone like the spring flowers
Withered and crushed by June
A glass tear fell from my eyes and shattered on your cheek
Tearing a hole into your fragile skin
A maggot crawled out and fell onto my skirt
I kissed your parched lips
And tangled my shaking hands into your soft hair
Leaving an imprint in your skull
I rested my weary head on your chest
And heard nothing in the hollow cage called your heart
My fingernail snagged on your stomach
Spilling the rotting contents like desperate butterflies
So eager to get out, but drenched in the cold fluids
I wonder what your dreams would say
When they realize I couldn't carry you to the grave
Because you withered and collapsed before June.
three days long vhe said,
"three days you've followed me
tailed me through the rivers of the city
inspected the creatures i've spoken to
studied my movements closely
been privy to my most intimate, private moments"
his hands taking buttons effortlessly from my shirt
tongue wagging in the heat of ambitious desire
he smiled unassumingly.
"three days and you didn't suspect.
you've only come this far
you've only come this close to me
because i have allowed you to"
tangling a hand into my hair
to manipulate the angle of my aching skull.
Stuck The car sputtered and shook as it came to an almost silent stop. The engine had gone silent as the horn beeped loudly through the dark night. The orange gas light blinked mockingly at the woman behind the wheel. It was making fun of her; she knew it was making fun of her. Grabbing the black cellular phone on the passenger seat, she looked at it with full intention of calling somebody to come help her.
“Oh, what the hell?!”
The “no service” sign was mocking her at the same exact time. The horn beeped loudly as she slammed her head against it once again. The day was out to get her in general. She had arrived at all her classes late, and her son was sick with the flu. The babysitter was able to watch him as she went to her late night classes. Giving a heavy sigh, she lifted her head off the wheel to look out the window. Drops of water pooled on the windshield as rain started to fall in a pitter-patter pattern. She didn’t quite understand the message th
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More