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IPM Nov 2018
~~~

My gut spirals swiftly
downwards the twilight zone
a throne of skin and bone
speaks
"Thine sin you must atone."
Sat down, below red skies
above my head, familiars
reflection shines in eyes
of thousand flies perched atop rotten meat.
I rip my heart out and eat
it too.
Ignites a fuel deep inside
the hollow depths of this mind.
A darkness rose, roamed long ago
here
speaks to me now:
"Fear not what is to come,
sacrifice the living,
**** the young, burn their lungs,
eat their tongues an-"
"What madness is this?"
aksed my image
the ghastly apparition
"This plane is not unnatural,
tis' only a future you invision..."

~~~
Gabriel burnS Oct 2018
Yellow,
October LEAVES
A word slips out
The door
To haunt my trees
Pleas in gusts of
DON’T
Samuel Canerday Sep 2018
While screams echo on the stairs of night
Forlorn and without hope of end
Charged to lead the dreams of light
Killing me slowly as I ever descend

Forlorn and without hope of end
I pray to soon forget these days
Killing me slowly as I ever descend
To halls of memory, to set them ablaze

I pray to soon forget these days
Charged to lead the dreams of light
To halls of memory, to set them ablaze
While screams echo on the stairs of night
Gabriel burnS Aug 2018
Bloodlust
Predatory
Drooling on my heart
clawing for the treat
those eyes in ambush
lying in uneasy wait
on the brink, sharpened teeth
savoring the foretaste
breathing in the promises
I will not delay
the inevitable

lips all blades
my skin a sea of pins
bristled for the kiss
tongues coiling for the cut
the cold caress and warm
metallic flavor
sweetness in the air calls
******* the shadows
de-scent... the scent... descent
Lauren Giuliani Aug 2018
Sleep is sweet and soft, however
hard at the same time.
Most of the time, it's harder than it is soft.

There's a descent through heavy, thick layers of fog and
sometimes you get stuck in between, where
vibrations run through you, holding you captive.

It's a delightfully interesting sensation, but it's not sleep.
Sometimes I run there on my own accord,
for my curiosity has been stricken.
Ron Gavalik Jul 2018
As a writer and poet who absorbs the world and then bleeds out truth, I'm finding it harder and harder to break through the political propaganda that television, radio, and web media has conjured to dominate and control so many minds. I can work around the programming by introducing abstract moral truths, but the moment I reference modern cultural, my work goes ignored.

I feel myself losing touch with a society that I’ve taken for granted my entire writing life. In a gluttonous feast of sensational media
that has proven nearly impossible to extricate ourselves,
we allow the power of profiteers and con-artists
to stream content into our minds that programs us
to accept unprecedented levels of violence.
We celebrate military-style police powers
to remove our freedoms of expression,
the rights to own property at reasonable expense,
and our most basic rights to life under a banner of liberty.
In an **** of hatred and greed, a large swath of society
has proven comfortable with exterminating
or imprisoning human beings for the color of their skin
or the origin of their birth in private-for-profit prisons.
Yes, I definitely feel we are lost in a spiral of human descent,
where there is no end, only torment and death.

-Ron Gavalik
A statement I needed to make. Make sure you support me on Patreon. Hit it here: Patreon.com/rongavalik
I walk alone this August morning
as the heat begins its climb
and the ocean wind
is cooling in its soft touch

manta ray jumps and flips
and splashes
bragging to me its freedom

I walk alone
this endless beach
til the sweat drips and
the skin burns
and the storms roll
in distant chaos

there was a time when I would have considered
turning back
but those days have long since vanished
into the curve
that separates the climb
from the descent
oldie - light revision
Mahdi Dn Oct 2016
"Monstrous men perceive monstrosities the monsters they seem to be."

Open this chest of mine
With this steel key of yours
Reveal my essence - it shines,
Look through my opened surface.
What you perceive as I am, is what defines
You.
The depths of mine
Which you think you have in your sight,
Is just a conjecture of your petty wit,
Representing your own shallow depths.

The secrets within me,
Are not understandable.
No matter how exposed
They become to the world.
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