Dark Poetry.

Excrement



Radiant sunshine on the periphery,
hellish black in the centre.
Creeping fingers of magma,
created by your abusive behavior,
slowly devouring everything in its sight.

You’re to be hung, drawn and quartered.
Fed to the god of abuse you worship en masse.
It's time for you, my lovely, to become excrement,
on the soles of my shoes.

House of The Rising Dead


There is a House in New Orleans
they call The Rising Dead
and it hosts the ghosts of many a poor boy
who lost his virgin head.

The railroad spikes in burnt dolls
rust in skulls which scream
Black shadows in a red room crawl
like snakes on voodoo queen.

Crow feather coffin pillows
on beds of nine inch nails
hold patches of hair snatched in pain
and smell of bloody entrails.

Cold eyeballs on the spell book
have seen the worst of sins.
On page 666 hangs dried tongue,
bookmarking dirt within.


Oh mother, don’t you wonder
just where your son’s been led?
His severed fingers lace the queen’s throat
in the House of The Rising Dead.



(Inspired when I was staring at items in dark windows of a local store, Jardin Gris voodoo shop. The tune "House of the Rising Sun was in my head as I wrote.)

Dear diary,
I met that girl today
I don't care what you say about her curvy frame
Because when I'm away, I struggle to find the verbs to say
In a nervous state that I try to purge away
But, being around her, I always find the words to phrase
I feel like I am parading around the pearly gates; an early grave
And, whenever she's not there, I’m going to burn to ash
I heard her laugh; my heart performed a circle dance and under a certain trance  
She wants to take baby steps
I'm not asking for amazing sex, draped in sweat
But, I just can’t be a mate or friend
Because when I first saw her, I had to take a rest
Inhale a breath; I was major mess that was gaining stress
Messaging like, ‘Hello, babe’ it was my greatest guess
Looking back, I regret that bait attempt
She ignored me, she’s just playing hard to get
Although, it felt like a bayonets razor edge taint my flesh
I also saw her up town, and I walked behind her to the door
It was a risky decision
Because I had enough doubt that if her son’s about
I’ll get punched out, but me and her are in love now
She’s my tough gal; so I ask when I can come round
She replies, ‘No, you incisively scheme about getting with me.
And, those messages saying that we’re together and free?
It something I will never believe or ever repeat.
You are pathetic and weak, so if you didn’t mind exiting please. ’
After that, I had the sket on her knees, sex on the street.
Couple hours afterwards, I met the police and I didn’t get a release
Moral of the story, she will be the one for me

On Christmas eve,
When children sleep,
You let a stranger through your door,
(Or should I say chimney?)
No its not a thief or a murderer,
It is a man whose slightly wider than most,
His white beard melting into grey,
Hide your kids his cause is not well,
You think he gives you present,
But no its something else,
It is a ticking bomb,
Ready to explode,
Making your dreams crumble into ashes,
Leaving you cold in a room with walls as white as albino feathers,

That man was your imagination,
Your children are long lost,
The bomb that exploded was only one of your thoughts,
You’re in a mental asylum,
Your families gone,
All because you thought that man was as real as your beating heart,
He turned Christmas into a an event you no longer remember.

Lie Me Down...

You come to me, with deception in a bloody soul...
Spoken sweet words, hidden behind venomous cocktails...
You smile, but I smell the death upon your breath...
As I turn away, I feel the sharpened claws dig deep into my lungs...
I will not let you kill me in silence...
Look into my eyes, see the life drain from my skin...
Press your anger into my heart's last beat, as I fill you with my anguish...
Lie me down, into the waters black and cold...
Where the words I've hidden, will be chained with me to the bottom...
Let the river fill my punctured lungs, washing away all evidence of your deadly deeds...
Lie me down, so I may finally rest among the others you've left in this place...
I am not the first, and I'll not be the last!


By: RFuller 6/1/15

It is what it is
NO, This is not me,

Your right

But it is me, it must be

It must

WHY; why… why, I don’t know why,

But it must

It’s in the walls;

I don’t like these feelings I have for you

I like you, I love you, I miss you

I miss seeing you, I miss being with you, I want you to come home when you’re gone away

But these other feelings, that swell up in me,

The ones that swirl to the top,

Like the winter storms upon the sea,

I hate when you come home, I stop missing you and become very angry that you are here,

Shadows and mirror show me everything,

You made me this way, this… other me,

This other person that you said I am, it is to be so

Maybe your right,

I only want what I can’t have

But I am not the same me as I was in the morning

It is what it is sweat heart;

[color=Navy]*Grabs knife*** Stabs repeatedly*

You see my darling, I resent you,

Your being here, your repressing of the anger

*Stabs*

Instead of just letting me vent or talk it out

*Slaps, punches*

Letting me release of the pent up poisons

*KICKS STOMACHE and legs*

You just continue to turn your fukin ears and shut it all out

*Stabs*

Don’t you darling

*Stab*

And pretend that its*

*STABS*

ALL Just fukin candy and rainbows

*Stabs, chokes*

NOW, That’s NO Life is it, that’s no way to live…

Goodness, look at us, I’m raving,

Forgive me my little flower princess

I am mad,

We really are Quiet mad now, did you not know,

Now, I have been online studying

And came upon an ancient scripture

And I taught myself, how to create new knowledge

For making love last

You, are the weak,

You see, we are all flawed

I have found the flaw in our design

You are modeled after a perfect being, the creator,

And I am afraid that we All fall short of the glory of his design

What we are to be

There is a million ways for us to lose our mind

And to be honest,

Critiquing me and with your damn morals

Instead of just looking at what I said, the words, my story

You Just judge me,

Fuck… You… Sista girl,

And quit spreading into every damn aspect of me,

Like a disease lying next to me,

And leave room for others,

Don’t dissect me, look at the story of my words instead

You stupid crazy bitch,

Does this offend you,

Good, I hope that it does

Means you finally got the mean truth you always been too afraid to see,

But, I GAVE IT TO YOU, Didn’t I, hehehe,

HAHAHAHAHAAA.

Oh GOD, It’s all too funny…

I just love it when you are put in your place…

No, in the end, I have made a new way that is more geared toward me

My grand design, of you, for us

The first model of my / our, perfect world

Behold, the architecture of my design, the genius of me

You are to die now my darling

And I will resurrect you,

With a different kind of spirit that dwells in you,

Than the one originally given you

The one that strives to be perfect

One, shall I say, more you, the girl I first met…

And As you feel yourself slipping away, falling into a secret Hell,

To suffer only for a short season,

Watch out sweaty, Run, run fast and far away,

Ashtoreth is coming after you, but I prefer to call her Jenny,

It wants what it can’t have,

But you are mine, you are to return back to me,

Unmolested, and unspawned

To only witness the terrors, to fall through smoke and heat,

purified by the fires sulfur

Not taken by them, for themselves,

And when you fall to hell, and are dragged back again, returning back to your body

You will be born again,

With the stains of my will… for you

In the image that I created for you

Without the fatal flaw of perfection

But acceptance of… Me[/color]

i know what you crave
i can feel your desire
venture near my grave
and feel the gentle fire

power is what you quest
that i can offer
but for what you are obsessed
you are about to suffer

the fate of the damned
an endless life void of peace
journey with me unharmed
into the darkest abyss

there lies what you want
there pleasure and pain waits
there every wish they grant
open hell's very gate

so come with me my friend
come and be made whole
but be sure that at the end
for me will be your soul

CROSSINGS

There is a space
In the depths of the skull
Where the citadel of darkness
Radiates the open skies

There is a time
In the breeze and the breath
Of a drowning man
In a sea of tears

There is a heart
Waiting to be broken
Chaste beating
Of celibate dreams

There is a mind
Hungering for her
The nape of her neck
The last gasp of air

There is a body
Lifeless on the cold floor
Her lips are slowly smiling
Her skin of blue

There is a soul
waiting limbless
In the womb of mother nature
Death will make her whole

Cenobite
(The whore of hurt)

Where she comes from nobody knows but hell is in her eyes
Black and sunken deep in the perfection of cold, pale and white
A masterpiece of lacerations, some slits and some open wide
Weeping wounds like decorations, endlessly they cry
Her skin opens like an eye to show her shiny, exposing spine
While masochists fingertips slide down and count the vertebrae of the sadist concubine

Razor wire whips this bitch with chains around her wrists
Arms pulled wide and tight she can't resist shaped like a crucifix

Her moans of ecstasy echo off the dungeon walls
Screams of pleasure snake through the labyrinth halls
They coil around demonic necks
And lick their ears with sounds of sex
Eyes dilate in arousals reflex
Orgasms here are hold no secrets

She calls my name
Configuring the puzzle I cannot wait
I beg for thee
A click, a whirr and she came for me

A Bloody Bouquet

I can feel it slowly slipping away
Gnawed all day, a steady decay
Set loose on the world, to my dismay
I throw my hands up to the sky and pray
to forgive my morals which I betray
that held back the dark I held at bay

Screeches echo, they want to play
My demons set free, and I must obey
I can only watch as my hands slay
Ripping through flesh, scarlet spray
Slicing my prey to put on display
A bloody bouquet

haunted, a warning
by missjem56



she died
a tortured harrowing death
the coroner
a man lacking emotions
wrote suicide, on her death certificate
sleeping pills had given her the sleep
she had craved for
a peace and tranquility
she had only dreamed of
forsaken and alone her only companions
were her disturbing memories
tragic, and disquietening
no one seemed to understand
or care
and now she lay dead
and now she would think no more. or so she thought.
she woke up
she could not feel a thing
she was numb
bar the tide of emotions
that wept from her soul
she screamed, yet her scream was silent
and went unheard
the chill of terror
trickled in an icy anticipation
down her spine
she shivered
suddenly realising she was still dead
yet some invisible force
caused her to re-enact the terrors of her past
her ghost screamed screamed again involuntarily
she then sensed a presence
lurking nearby
a moving dark shadow
it turned toward her
she was now face to face with evil
she now wanted to scream
yet this presence prevented this
and forced her to laugh instead
not a normal laugh
but a hysterical maniacal screeching laugh
that sent shivers down her lifeless spine
she now realised
that this evil
had somehow been the cause of her death
she now heard another noise
her brother and sister in law entered
they were both wearing black
and sobbing
her brother switched the lights on
the evil switched them off again
her brother flicked the switch again
again it was switched off
then suddenly without thought
she began wailing
as she found herself
floating toward them
she could see the look of terror
on their faces
as her ghostly image approached them
and although they had just attended her funeral
their sorrow was very quickly replaced by terror
she suddenly awoke
covered in vomit
with an empty pills and whisky bottle
by the side of her bed


   

             Don't
Don't you look me in the eyes
When I'm trying to hide
How can I cry
When it would all just be a lie
I'm tired of fighting
And no I'm not sorry
I'm tired of bleeding
When in the end I'm still breathing
One more word
Just give me one
I don't care if you think suicide sends me to hell
I don't care, go ahead now scream and yell
It's not going to save me
It's not going to bring me back
Don't look at my corpse
When you're love is what I lacked

Echoes

on loving someone with multiple personality disorder

He floats preciously in darkness.
When the other ones emerge
bruising the soft flesh of her wrists
she learns what it means to yearn.

Hell is her body pinned under his.
This doll-like, hovering awareness.
Forcing her to watch things caged,
wriggling against the wall.

He is leaving her with each stitch
in the coverlet, his breathing softening
to a quiet rhythmic thud. Eyes
snapping shut as stones.

Unnoticed, she wipes at tears,
whispers eulogies to the stars.
None of you were meant
to be mine.

Picnic With A Machete

find a quiet place for us to picnic
don't look in the basket Bitch
don't cry because I call you a Bitch
I use it in a non gender specific way
I call every body a bitch
here eat this turkey sandwich
and drink this cranberry juice
don't get smart Bitch
I'm Einstein and you not Bitch
I'll be calculating the specifics of these parameters
turn your smartphone off
and shut your mouth
it's a picnic
not an opera
and Don't look in the basket
don't let curiosity get your cat killed
Bitch I'm for real
you see them trees in the forest
yep, them trees is where you gonna be sleeping
Bitch don't run
I said Bitch
don't
run
let me get my big butter knife out the basket
I said Bitch
don't
run
Bitches just don't listen
now I'm a have to chase a bitch
into them trees