Nightmares Can Be Fun Too

Might be NSFW

Soft breasts greet me
in lieu of the moon.
Pert nipples,
the ever foreboding life force,
brush my cheek, stifling
my breath. Smooth skin rubs
against me as
I hear that ever melodious giggle. Reverberating against
my ears and down my spine;
Amid my thighs.
My hands reach for her,
wanting to feel every
inch. Tips trail her
Back and thighs and
she shivers, vibrations
racking my body. My hand slips
between us; between
her thighs. She cries,
pushing herself down, onto
me. Round hips roll against me,
increasing speed to a
faster end. Soft and pink,
she slicks my fingers.
A stream of moans escape
her lips. And I flip; she rests
on her back, my head
nestled between those
glorious thighs. My tongue
stroking her, eliciting heavier
sounds of pleasure. Her
moan is angelic and
if it’s the last thing I
hear I know I’ll die happy. Those fantastical thighs wrap
around my neck. Pulling me closer, tightening when I increase pace, my tongue circling her. My hands
glide up her sides,
moving for the perky breast.
With each massage she moans
louder, encouraging me.
She doesn’t hold back and when she finishes, I stay between her,
not ready to let her go. But,
she pulls and tugs until
I see her face. A menacing grin
too wide for her head
greets me. A long forked
tongue snakes from between
her lips. I can’t gasp before it
chokes me. Her eyes still smiling she continues with my
suffocation until she vanishes
and I awake in hell.

He Who Broke The Levee

Fear; anger.
Legs pushed beneath
your head
Stop; hurt.
Being torn into two.
Ravished by
animals as they sit
atop their prey.

Doubled

When I look at myself in the mirror,

I turn away, hitting the lights and shielding

myself from the stares. I don’t want to see

their eyes anymore.

Panic Buttons and Red Tape

Breathe. Just
breathe.
Reach into the pit of fire
and grab hold
of the heart strings.
Strum your way
through the beginning

of the end.
Lay down.
Forge your burdens

into your bed.                                                                                                                                           Let your body form
to the                                                                                                                                                       disruptions,
Allow your lungs
to fill with their despair.
Empower yourself

with the fear of defeat.
You rise,
and reach back

through smoke blankets.
Grab hold of                                                                                                                                             the earth
and crawl
through the grave you made.                                                                                                                 Move forward                                                                                                                                     and emerge from the red tape.

Sleepless

Maybe two thirds of 750
wasn’t my best move.
Maybe a bottle while I waited
to move shouldn’t have been
consumed, but damn if
it didn’t feel good.

There it was, numbing the senses;
dying the extremities red,
coloring the skin.
The dead lips that kiss the inevitable.
Skin peals away from the
ignorance of a stain.

Pull

It was about time for a new poem :). It’s just a little different but, not really.

 

Anyway, poem time:

 

 

 

Sixteen feet away,

cherry lips spread for

me. Dimples deepen

until they touch and she

 

looks away. Puckered,

she stares down at her

feet. Raven strands

blow behind an ear and

 

she looks back to me.

So I cross, sixteen feet,

through eight inches of

sludge to flirtatious legs.

 

Slowly, I reach the body

they’re attached to.

Gazing over the new born

sun, my mind orbits,

 

becoming dizzier with

every drop of long lashes

against elated cheeks.

I cant help but stare into

 

the stars. They pull me

closer. Creating massive

heat waves between us

until our bodies fuse to

 

one another; tying me to

her. We rock within her

smile ignoring the

shrinking Universe around

 

us. Eliminating space so

that I feel the planets

against me. Soft hands

bring my face closer. My

 

eyes drift to the cherry

simper I couldn’t help but

watch before our collision.

Her lips pull me in; tongue

 

rubbing away my flaws

as she erases me.

18:12 PM

Just a quick dinner poem that went dark side for my entertainment 😉

I stare at the alphabet
bowl that holds soy balls,
watching the fishes swim.
Observing the smoke
that burns, it burns me
as I blow. Gliding into my
nose, it tickles my brain,
making me question my
creation. Considering,
wandering, how in twenty
one years could this be my
accomplishment. I glance
left, to the rings within the
glass. Chianti teasing me
with red, my favorite of
the crying colors. It reflects
to me, a darkened image of
apathy, giggling as I try to
grasp it, pushing for
humiliation. I let my lips
move it. Taking control of the
taunting, I slowly end its life.

Guide to Solace

Run away into the

smoke pools of yesterday.

Fly high within their

flames. Bury yourself

within their fumes.

Be covered with the fog.

Allow yourself to be

blanketed with its chilling

warmth. Maintain protection

in reach of the dome. Listen

to the sound of the

fiddle. Let the strings be your memory.

Force the drum outside of your

core. Let the rhythm be your feat.

Be moved by the sound. Allow

The notes to be your footstool. Rest

your head against their bars.

And dream of a meditating symphony

Venge

Decided to write a poem really quick 🙂

 

 

Can we remember to

commemorate the life

we never had. We moderate

and date back. Stuck in a

Hellenistic age, we

romanticize our faults.

Bleeding gold, so cheerful,

wanting to be a part of the new

world. Yearning, burning, our

bodies collide. Wishing for breath

we are tossed into flames.

Scorching through time travel,

placed near rivers, lying at

stakes, tied to stone, we

fall. Sinking, until we rise again.

We excrete our revenge onto

those who believe they are

celestial beings. Poisoning

their ideology, We crawl over

their minds and melt into their

prefrontal cortex. Warping their

Thoughts so that they are shaped

to mirror our own. We create a

new form of mind control.

Membrane coated, organ operated

robots, living for our every whim.

Pushing forth greater intelligence

and complex thought patterns,

we unite the improved beings.

We take them by the handful

and store them into enlarged

vessels. Building a clan of

demigods, the world becomes ours.

Embodied Sound

I wrote this last night when I was watching the Goosebumps episode “Piano Lessons Can Be Deadly”.

 

*Spoiler Alert For Those Who Missed Out on Childhood*

It was the one with the the little boy who wants to learn to play piano so that he could play with this girl he met. He ends up going to some shady place for the lessons and the teacher (who is apparently a robot that the ‘janitor’ created) malfunctions, so to speak, and tries to steal the boys hands. He runs to the basement  and where the janitor saves him; when actuality he was controlling the instructor and tries to steal the boys hand as well. The ghost haunting the boy’s home (and piano) expels itself from his body and protects him.

It’s pretty cool. Goosebumps in general is awesome and on Netflix!!!!

Okay, no more rambling. Here’s the poem:

 

Beautiful hands

intertwine.

Fingers wrap around

one another,

braiding into bars,

notes tying them

together. Melodies

dance within their

veins creating a smooth

rhythm. Orchestrating

motions and

symphonizing sounds,

they release themselves,

taking their final

bow.