CAll of the Mild

Dawn climbs the horizon yet not
As the dark brew ground fine brews to steamy hot
Awake though lesser in aware
Unbalanced with vision blurred by bloodshot

To nothing doest unfocused stare
Time thunders ‘gains sleepless rue
Despite the effort of Sandman to lull with coo
Night upon night doest his call be stilled
Save a nod overtaken for an hour or mayhaps two
As thoughts too import display on ceiling to be mulled and milled

Alone in the dark and dreary
One finds life all the weary
A flash of blade cross’t the wrist
To an end’s crimson kiss one canst be not overly leery
In the alls of things unseen, felt and miss’t

Said ‘tis of silence it casts its shadow hued golden
Yet too few in belief are beholden
As pronounced offense of voice
When best to swallow and hold in
Leaving but not a mark of an idiot’s choice

Trudge to the drudge apt to its suiting
To toil in rote and banal routine
Though promise made the setting of the day last
Expect the mundane a curb and booting
Yet lay in casketed mold to be once again its cloned cast

Alone in the dark and dreary
One finds life all the weary
A flash of blade cross’t the wrist
To an end’s crimson kiss one canst be not overly leery
In the alls of things unseen, felt and miss’t

Conversation down to vulgar emphasis is but all the same
An adult placed in the childish notion that it be good just to be in the game
To be trapped on a canvas ‘stead of a yet muraled wall
Painted in vibrant intent only dulled by discontinued scrawl by the edged frame
To dry to flake to fade to impression if anything at all

Despair in the wonder naught in lifetime’s past
Of the drown’d choke of aghast
Short the far of inspired aspire of the once
Fallen willingly to be tied molded in cast
As wouldst a moronic dunce

Alone in the dark and dreary
One finds life all the weary
A flash of blade cross’t the wrist
To an end’s crimson kiss one canst be not overly leery
In the alls of things unseen, felt and miss’t

Goest does there is always ‘nother morrow
As if seconds, minutes, hours, decades were made to borrow
It is not
Imbibe with trickery the asphyxiate of bottled sorrow
To hope an unlearn of what was the taught

To the world berate their classify
End to which does not the least intra-mollify
All is a beget
The live it is but elongated die
Of own it was thine down in let

Alone in the dark and dreary
One finds life all the weary
A flash of blade cross’t the wrist
To an end’s crimson kiss one canst be not overly leery
In the alls of things unseen, felt and miss’t

 

 

I’m layin’ this one down for the Poet’s rally. For finer material place check out the folks here:
http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com/2015/02/hyde-park-thursday-poetry-rally-week-81.html
A thank ya kindly out for the award:

Week 80 the perfect poet award
And as part of this though I think all have merit, I would nominate “justabitofpeace”

Aphrodite’s waive

The wane of love take not as soften’d
But it be of the violent
Not to be entwined in that of lust
That be simple in its vile to be lent
Wary be of the fined than of roughen’d
For with practiced favour
The keen’d slice the bearer a clean
Of effort none in trail less done –
A death to what
To a whom in for whatever
Matters none
The construct of a function
To a deceive of passion’d fashion.
Ah yet tis but of the much
To be accost in jagged rend –
Gouged
Chunked
With the spatter awash ‘round
Those who’s with time did thee spend.

I am submitting this as part of the Hyde Park Poetry Palace. I hope that you take a look at other fine poets that are participating as well.
http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com/2015/02/hyde-park-poetry-palace-thursdy-poets.html

Pass on By

Pass on by
You are not worth the try
I see it in the darkness of inner eye
Tis naught but a lie.

Must we do this dance
Fate is unwilling to you entrance
To take broken chance
On such an spackled illusion of romance

Pass on by
You are not worth the try
Pretend not a damn cared or disappointed sigh
Tis naught but a lie.

A pine cannot behold nor behest
Just as smile can mask a personality less’t
A surface not in kind but in skewed jest
That passion’s wings open not but nestle tight in undisturbed rest

Pass on by
You are not worth the try
Promise any or all below, in, above the murked sky
Tis naught but a lie.

Be it the look seen when thought not seen
Blinded by the beautiful ugly not I in keen
The lines can be read that are in between
Of what will be said backed into what already has been

Pass on by
You are not worth the try
To wish a well in an adieu, farewell and goodbye
Tis naught but a lie

Coated in sugar still the center will be as bitter and tart
Coo all of phallic think to bind to a heart
Crueled in notion of such shallow start
Ergo separate, individual, we be apart

Pass on by
You are not worth the try
What never was cannot fade away and die
Tis naught but a lie

For a Yearn Interned

Behest this adivise ye for a yearn interned
Take to the marrow the unseen as experience learned
Beckon naught of who would for who should have strived
Be step to step in pace of others to saken our own in derived
Within deny the murk of night to cast down mask stoically worn
Invite not Himeras and Pothos to undress the mind’s binding adorn
To breathe to the tickle and shiver guiding thy within this feral hap’t
Let devour the mouse of inspected expect with animalistic aspect of ye born
Suckle, nuzzle, lick, and lap til all want is sap’t
With every fleshed curve and line experienced and map’t
Erefore the gnarled finger of self-accuse raises its hackle in the tangent glare of morn
And again the more shackled in others percept be trap’t
Mayhaps such sally tis best to be deprived
Never to know of the drown or to have survived
To peek out in stilted who is seeking the who could in forlorn
Sayest the coal ne’er to be charred, emberred or burned
Saved for a yearn interned

Memories of Pleasant

Sentiment set in meant
Packaged for the pick of age to nestle enfold
Stilted in skew for stunted regale
For a perceive
Frilled neat to adorn the day’s lament

POPCORN GOODBYES

A seed yellowed brightly gleamed with full promise

Sizzled in heat to explode

To gargantuan proportion

Peaks and pocks that in its white plume

Cause such ache to savour for the longest time

Only to dissolve swiftly once tasted

What was once seemed substantial but left now naught an empty husk

A disappoint in knowing that only one,

Even in its alluded puffed promise

 Could never satisfy

To be forgotten in the quick by the taste of another

You and I in a popped corn goodbye

Emanuel

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty with those lil titties

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty more the so with glitties

 

Summer brings farmers markets to town squares full of dither

Perchance you’ll stumble upon a man aged and steeped in wither

The stillness of his appear

Among the tussle will chance you to him steer

As in the far he looks as if his eyes beckons with a whispered plead of “come hither”

Yet close the darkness within them up your back coldness will slither.

 

Emanuel is the old man’s name or is said to be in many places

Always sitting in a shaded stall – never up going through a seller’s paces

Alert but looking dull with his surround behind his table

A handful of wares nary with a price or label

Looking lovingly down stead of potential buyer’s faces

At his table sparely spread with glittered sand dollar necklaces

 

Appreciate the baubles that leave Emmanuel beguiled

But be aware that if asked where they are from the answer is not for the mild

To him his baubles he will gather

They are to be sought than buy rather

For if truth be tell they are hardly trendy or styled

Yet fashioned are they from founts designed to nourish a child

 

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty with those lil titties

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty more the so with glitties

 

Town to town, time and time again

Tis but all he can do as his condition he sees as opport than bane

Emanuel is not what he would seem as

And his tastes is for the flesh of a dying motherly lass

Which most would consider much insane

But always his latest bauble lets down his memory reign

 

Emanuel stood between the door and her

Volatile, pert, aware – far from the half lame aged sir

He had wobbled up to her so weakly

Propositioning Annie so meekly

That a block away flashed the money that had her mind whir

In such a weak rasp “Such beauty have you” he did purr

 

“I apologize for the dreary and lack luster apartment –

What do you need the money for? Drugs? Food?  Rent?

Can I make you more at ease?

Or do you just wish to know what I please?

Am I your kind of gent?

Ha! But of course I am – considering the money I just spent!

 

Here my pet a dabble of warmth for your body in the form of rum

Odd isn’t it how it matters not where one is from

Man, woman, or those whose thoughts of themselves are inbetween

Knowing what is and what can’t be seen

All Life flows through blood and cum

To which most seek to spread to others some”

 

A smile steeped in sad lament drifted along the thin lipless mouth dry

“I am not most, alas” he continued longing sigh

Emanuel went quiet for a moment

As if despite his intent his body’s functions had already their energy had came and went

Patting his groin to enforce in what words belie

Then laughed “But by no means do I intend to arrest any attempt to try!”

 

“Come to me my little delectable one

Come to me so we can have some fun”

Emanuel took a step toward the womanly company for which he had paid

With no intent to have her an opportunity to spend the money from he she had made

Then a sidestep to block the entrance to which she could flee in a run

“Come to me so I can do what must be done”

 

“Hide not your beauty with such attire that highlights your highs…and your lows”

The woman felt a tightening in the pit of her stomach as the space between the two did close –

All Annie had wanted was a few dollars to breathe from the monetary stuck

What else could she do with a baby at home to make enough in a couple of hours but fuck?

“Be more that what stitch and fabric shows

Surrender all even what nobody else knows”

 

Emanuel wished he could play with this one for a while

Unlike most of the others her demeanor was a simpler natural style

To discover to what depths could this toy withstand

An assault upon her mind under the influence of a mind altering dose of contraband

But his need overtook his wishes to a frothing rile

He lunged towards her with surprising agile

 

Annie had not a chance to react to the old man’s attack

He knocked her off balance as her knees went slack

And though Annie tried with her hips to her body steady

Her coordination was not up to task and ready

Her head bounced twice off the thread bare lime carpet with a dull crack, crack

And Annie’s world turned from of shades of colour to black and back

 

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty with those lil titties

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty more the so with glitties

 

“Lay still!” the old man did harshly rasp just barely a whisper but Annie did not abide

Woozily she tried to roll to her side

As he tried to straddle his prey

To keep her movement at a minimum – at bay

Blood, teeth and mucus fireworked in grim display as Annie’s flesh split wide

As the heavy bottle of rum and the bottom end of her face did collide

 

“Hush now!” Emanuel spat at the weeping woman in venomous tone

Given his choice of temped abode it should be erred for sexual moan

He had chosen it for its rent by the hour

And the lack of interest in its activity as told by the stench of old sex sour

A sob too much might become a wailful moan

But it not…an interrupt he shant condone

 

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty with those lil titties

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty more the so with glitties

 

She wishes to cooperate none does she!

Well if a bitch she has decided to be

The staggered glass of the bottomless bottle he brought to the middle of Annie’s face

Shattering, strewing, gnashing until her uniqueness had been shredded to not a trace

Emanuel’s anger keened like the tip of a honed epee

I will make her understand that her master is me…ME!!!

 

Annie, just looking to make some quick cash

With a little nod and a flicker of her eyelash

Not a muscle nor gave a breath of defy

Still and broken beyond her life did lie

As Emanuel from his straddle to beside her did he dash

Gleefully whispering over and over “ash to ash”

 

 

With all his might around her meaty areole his teeth did become entrenched

Driven by the hunger than never quenched

for blood woven in mother’s milk;

an acrid concoction that coats his throat as if a cloak of silk

Freed from its nestled spot with merciless gnash and then wrenched

Relishing in the warmth of the moist while choking on the blood and milk his mouth in was drenched

 

He spit out the fleshy round as it still had some perk quickly leaving from life’s lack

Into a pickle jar half filled with shellac

Delighting in the bob and twirl that made his mind gleefully applaud and twitter

Then he pulled it out to add from his little crafter’s bag sparkle and glitter

He lets it dry for a moment on the flattened head of a belt buckle’s back

Then Emanuel placed his prize in his burgundy velveteen sack.

 

Sting does the bleach as he cleans his face, toes, hands, chest and armpits

Once dried and prize in hand with indifference to the room’s liquid decor tacky he splits

Though all the evidence of his deed is strewn in a large mess

Who Emanuel is and will be next gives clue even the less

So that every weekend Emanuel in a different town sits

Showing all his hand fashioned glitz

 

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty with those lil titties

Pretty pretty lil kitties

Pretty pretty more the so with glitties

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