Tag Archives: #5

Sweetest Intimacy

Would you let me

Place my tender hands

On your warm chest

So I could cut you open

With a blunt scalpel

And let my fingers flow

Against your insides

That slippery sensation

Of panicking blood

Against this living flesh

Crushing the oxygen

Tracing lines around your

Lungs like star signs

Of a sky trapped behind

An ivory cage—spare

Me a rib or a vein or two

As my hands shall be

Exploring you way further

Find organs to suture

Or prod you into laughter

Are you ticklish here?

On your stomach, in your

Punctured diaphragm

No need to ask if you have

Got the guts, but don’t

Be heartless, I’ll miss your

Larynx for that chuckle

All before I stain your neck

With the red of your

Slowing aorta, and set you

Free with a final gasp

And just one gentle little snap.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

anatomical dissection: nerves

they love bruises

like crushed plums

and gaping slits

like cranberry juice

and they love to

paint the sky with it

because they think

it’s so bloody beautiful

.

with tortured grins

and metal instruments

and a blindfold to the

eyes of the ignorant

sickening voices coo

“this won’t hurt at all”

while making sure that

the pain lasts an eternity.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

mental block. (5)

***

and i

cut my

skin

open to

prove

that i’m

okay.

***

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

I Put the “Fun” in Funeral

Get down, get low, turn the radio on
You’re invited to a graveyard party tonight
Punk is heavy and the moon is full
Dead never looked to beautiful…

~*~

Don’t expect me back next morning

I’ll be busy shopping for body bags

And tagging my own fresh cadaver

The grave won’t dig itself, you’ll see

.

Don’t expect my visit this afternoon

I’ll be sniffing aroma formaldehyde

And letting my tailor sew me a suit

I’m composing my eulogy, obituary

.

Don’t expect me to sit on for supper

I’ll have a chat with the undertaker

Updated my last will and testament

For the church pastor’s wake litany

.

Don’t expect me to stay for tonight

I’m picking the colour of my coffin

And planning funeral arrangements

But you’re welcome to come with me

.

Don’t expect me to be here for forever

And stick around for this deadbeat life

Baby, don’t you see? You’re the reason

Why I’m throwing this party, honestly.

~*~

What happened to the life of the party?
I’m not kidding, we’re all dead
Now everybody’s passed out, face down
The sun is rising and the fire has faded away
And even if we have to move it to the next town

We’re gonna rock it, this week anyway.
D-I-E…we won’t be dead forever!

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

☆ constellations ★

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

pinpricks of light

connected stars

lines of neutron

illustrations afar

nexus of stories

depicted scenes

painted on onyx

firmament’s skin

astrological heart

luminance of grace

weaving a tale as

elegant as space

concatenate vestal

bleeding purity

yet much wondrous

dear, how i see

that it connects

distant stars as one

and gives life to

myriad dots of sun

oh how i wish on a comet

that we two little stars can be

a constellation together

to make our own story.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations

Briarcliff Presents: A Short* Introduction Of Characters and Classic Acts In Our Humble Asylum

*The descriptions, not the entire introduction itself.

~*~

The rarest crimson bird

A tainted greedy priest

A blue-eyed naïve nun

That hid a ghastly beast

.

A sapphic snoop reporter

A psychotic psychiatrist

A plight pepperpot patient

A very shady Nazi scientist

.

A boy hounded by an alien

And his dead pregnant wife

A child thought hit-and-run

But she’s actually still alive

.

A great guy, graceless Grace

Hey, infamous Bloody Face

Angel of death’ll be upon us

And an exposé for the ages

.

A crying statue of Holy Mary

A bad nymphomaniac Shelly

Anne Frank(?), popsicle Wendy

Killer Santa Claus, that Leigh

.

Conscience-plagued guard

Dominique played to insane

A jukebox for Lana Banana

Oh, did I mention the canes?

.

A superstitious Mexican lady

One—or maybe two—babies

Cannibalistic mutated crazies

Their endings ain’t quite pretty

.

We’ve got twisted mummy issues

And severe scandalous misgivings

We’ve got dirtiest deeds sacrilegious

We got dead couples and mad patients

.

It’s quite an interesting roster of visceral macabre characters

In a banger backdrop of a demented rundown asylum within

Now you’ve met the familiar faces, what are we all waiting for?

Let the grim spotlights flicker off and Briarcliff’s horrorshow begin!

Leave a comment

Filed under Fandom Poetry, Poetry