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 May 2015
IvyB Xx
"My heart is a pre-owned game,
with you being the current controller.

Having being reset over and over,
I am hoping that you will be the one to pass the level and clock me,
body and soul"
Ivy Botticelli
 May 2015
Gillian Ann Bergman
I go to the other room
  to get away from my doom

He follows me
  now theres three

His buddies follow
  i'll see you tomorrow

I want to get away
  but he wants to play

Leave me alone
  I no longer hold the bone

I want to be left be
  but every time I see
    
I see the birds and the bees

I've moved on
  now I want you gone
 May 2015
Haydn Swan
Twisted tales of how you fought a dragon,
silver scales pulsating through your veins,
the beating heart racing through your mind,
its great wings an ice cold wind through your soul,
from its mouth the fire bellows within your skin,
the great roar screams through your spirit ,
writhing, serpentine body wrapping around your limbs,
run it through with your sword of enlightenment,
the clash of steel against its claws of devourment,
its magical, golden blood,  now your bitter nectar,
the battle won through a mortal embrace,
so raise your lance in triumphant accord,
but keep up your shield and remember the pain,
chasing dragons through the mist and the rain.
If anyone has fought an addiction then they might perhaps understand the concept of these words and empathise with the struggle.
 May 2015
Amitav Radiance
Tickled senses
Close encounter
Risky pursuit
Playful hearts
Seductive looks
Arousing touch
Ignited passions
Frenzied moves
Strong upheavals
Raised anticipation
Souls entangled
Towards culmination
Deep awakenings
 May 2015
Gillian Ann Bergman
Every time I read those letters
Every time I look at your pictures

That's when I realize
how much I truly miss you

Every time I think about you
I cry for your love

There is nobody else
that I could possibly love more

I'll stay true as long
as i'm with you
I miss you baby come back
 May 2015
SøułSurvivør
~~~

Is zero a number?
Is numb a feeling?
Is comatose slumber?
Is sleep now healing?

Is why a question?
Is try a verb?
When you can't shake
The ***** and herb?

Is static music?
Is silence screaming?
Is nighttime cursed...

is daytime dreaming?


SoulSurvivor
Rewrite (c) 5/12/2015
Written 2014
For those battling addiction...

It's not something you "give up"
It's something you LET GO.

~~~
 May 2015
Justin S Wampler
She nods and sighs
amongst the conifers.

Evergreen sap coats the
rug of needles beneath, and
the wind covers her skin
with rippling gooseflesh.

A little black balloon lies
beside a bindle of rigs.

The moon robs and blinds
her of sight, shining so
very brightly into her dilated
pupils and hidden irises.

A single rusted spoon glows and
A stolen church candle smoulders.

Her golden locks encircle
the crown of her cranium
in a halo worthy of stained-
glass windows.

Rubber tubing is tied off
above her collapsing veins.

The fallen leaves under her
protruding shoulder blades
stretch out for miles in a
pair of clipped wings.

With a final rattling cough
the light leaves her eyes,

and dissipates into
the punctured skies
as she quietly fades,
and dies.
 May 2015
Pranav kastury
His feet scorched on the burning embers, treaded,
As he sifted through the Nightmares he dreaded.
Weaving his way in and out through the debris,
Cutting himself as he raced for the ferry.
He paused, panting to catch his breath,
And let his eyes sink in the surrounding death.

And behold, what a sight he saw,
Human flesh cut, bleeding and raw.
Mountains of  bodies piled up with Sin
Naked and writhing amidst the splitting din.
And the gong of the bells from the deep chasms,
Resonating with the screams of the dyings' spasm.
Screaming and kicking they went up in flames,
Beggars and kings, lads and dames.

Stumbling he began to brave the road,
Hoping and praying he would reach the ford.
With each step his strong virility,
Started showing signs of debility.
Urging himself to reach the ford,
Where waited the ferryman on his ferry aboard.
He purged all the sinned who embarked,
The magnificent ship on the banks, parked.
Leading them on the infernal waves,
Over the lofty hills and the deepest caves.
Until they reached heavens door,
Freeing them from the sights of blood and gore.

As he ran, he saw high atop a tree
Whose branches were stripped off leaves, free.
A large bird with molten black eyes,
Gorging on both men and mice.
He saw that it was a vulture
Tearing a man and leaving his lungs rupture',
Quickening his pace he crept away from the bird,
Camouflaging himself with the dying herd.
Thinking he had passed the demonic beast,
Who was busy helping itself to its feast,
He slowed down and moved with care,
Only to be stopped by a shriek high in the air.

He looked up with great unease,
With sweaty eyes and shaky knees.
The vulture jumped up with a great swoop,
And circled the man in a closed loop.
"My, my," it cried, landing next to its target,
"Are you trying to escape my food market?"
"No, no!" He whimpered and crowed in fear.
"You will not reach the ford, my dear."
Said the vulture in a pitched cacophony,
"you will not hear the heavenly symphony,
As one draws close to one's destiny,
For the feral beast in me,
Will not allow you to let it be."
"Please," he cried. "Let me see,
What is meant for me."

The vulture roared in laughter,
Cawing and rocking faster.
So much it was immersed in mirth,
That it didn't see its prey of large girth,
Try to slip away precariously,
From the gaze of the bird which was nefariously,
Waiting for the moment to take the plunge
And drive its beak through the man with a lunge.

With a shriek, it jumped up in flight,
Spreading its demonic wings blocking the light.
Swooped down at the man and spread its wings,
Opening its beak as it sings,
The death hymn that flowed from his beak crescent
Echoing through the emptiness as it made its descent.
The man gazed in fear at the looming death,
With unblinking eyes and taut chest held with breath.
Looked up to the heavens and screamed "God!"
The vulture chuckled and reached its prey, with eyes agog.
Covered the man with its monstrous plumes,
With its beak dripping of drool, in flumes.
Drove it deep into the mans heart,
And made him part of its food mart.
this is the first poem I have penned and I hope its appealing to all sorts of viewers, as it is very brutal and gory
 May 2015
B
Your kisses feel
like waves
and I want
to swim on
your tongue*



B.S.
 May 2015
Traveler
Lust is the wind in my sails
Tossed on the waves of her salty sea
I’d bring her about and cast my sights homeward
But I’m overtaken by the appetite she strikes in me

When she casts her attention
I’m caught in her net
She shares her provisions
Well beyond sunset

To be lost on her seas
Or cast away on
Her island of pleasures
I’d hope to stay long

Deep is her depths
I partake in her treasure
When I get to her floor
I'll implode under pressure

Yet still my lust
Burns on her surface
Her touch feeds the fire
Her depth gives me purpose
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