Ode 2 DOS

DOS you were my home
mildew growing on the ceiling 
the games i treasured you hid well
i found them with a command spell

then towers rose
above my dungeon
was too weak
to fight the engine

windows made of diamantine
sunlight blowing through
no grass, no dust
just sterile lust
a galvanizing noon

above my home
gates stood,
nonplussed
over everything, everyone he had crushed

and home was not the same
everything was a game

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Ground

i am Toon Princess of Oahu, Jill of the Jungle, Moist Mist that lands on your brow, Sound of Wet Leaves acquainting themselves with your naked soles… i am the Qi that Shoots Up Your Ankles and tickles your Knees. i am the Wet Fat Fairy that fills you with Peace.

is this a poem?

the hardest thing, is to accept yourself, flaws and all… i find poetry is rebellion against order, slashing open creative veins. letting love, passion and chaos bleed out and into the world. staining stairwells. riptide of release.

Immortal Sin

 

can i slit my wrists and not have it be
that taboo word
can i
tell all my secrets
and come out unscathed
unsinged
unsuicidal
or will i be
unhinged
Jesus’ bridal virgin
ready to return
only to be returned, from
His
loving embrace
to this burning grace?

will i wear His disappointed scar
upon my face?

H3ikus

 

 

darkness and charcoal

drapes of things found in attics

wrap around her frame

 

*

*

*

 

unclouded topaz noon

pale tumid marble pieces

bob on the surface

 

*

*

*

 

his new measured home

in the allocated plot

deep dark underground

 

 

Cyanide

unmarred by the passage of time
so fair
so pristine, so prime
oh, so debonair

your face rotted off
not a strand on your head
your white bony wrist
still tied to your bed

as beautiful as always
i gaze in astonishment
you suddenly twirl
in joyous bewilderment

you laugh, twist and turn
locked in my arms
your eyes blaze and burn
i don’t fall for your charms

you say “you’ll never have me,
so you’ll have to kill me”
and “take this knife,
bury it in me”

i draw with the tip
loops on your belly
ghosting the blade
along your spine

“it won’t end it, you know
you’ll still be alive”
a droplet of crimson
runs down your side

you’ll always be here
my cyanide bride