Doppelgänger: the DUP Oscars

   
unleash on me let me feel your wrath    
wrap me in your serpentine arms    
constrict my heart as it pounds within my chest    
threatening to burst from my bloodied cavity    
   
feeling your rage the apocalypse that is you    
crashing through the doors of my mind    
forcing me to submit to your will of steel    
I bow before your throne    
   
calling to you my Darkest Lord    
from the place of oblivion    
where you reside in a desecrated tomb    
enthralled by your forked tongue    
   
that delves deep within my soul    
in the place of purgatory where I am imprisoned    
free me from this state of nothingness    
tear the veil from my face that leaves me confounded    
   
oh Dark one my lust for you is unbridled    
as I writhe in dreams at midnight    
feeling your terror as it enflames me    
come upon me my Lord tear into this lowly denizen    
   
feast upon my offering    
let the beast in you loose    
upon pale wanton flesh    
splayed on your blackened altar    
   
feed me your cummunal offering    
from your forked member    
let me see visions of you    
in all your darkened glory    
   
unleash on me let me feel your wrath    
wrap me in your serpentine arms    
constrict my heart as it pounds within my chest    
threatening to burst from my bloodied cavity    
   
as I wail out my lament    
I await you on hands and knees    
your wretched slave    
collared for your pleasure    
   
writhing in insane torment    
your power the fire I give into  
greater than I in Hell's domain    
I succumb to your greatness    
   
feeling your rage the apocalypse that is you    
crashing through the doors of my mind    
forcing me to submit to your will of steel    
I bow before your throne    
   
     
   
   
 

some bloke on the TV
in the bar says something-
maybe to me, if I hadn’t
got this far already ..


a tribute to Paul S, whose little musings pack a lot of comfort
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems-by/dartford/

It was through death I learned of True Love,    
the separation of flesh from my tangible being.  
    
I hear you breathing with the earth, dormant    
winter cold and punctured breath of thaw;    
bursting capillaries of bleeding dirt.    
When you dissolved, I became mechanical---    
a living existence of programmed grief ...    
I couldn’t remember love, I longed to love again.    
But how to love what no longer exists was foreign.    
I turned to paper, there was no return to me -    
to anything that made sense, only blankness.    
   
You are still here through vibration of sound-    
and yet I cannot touch your physical form    
anymore than I can hold the wind tangling my hair…    
I can only touch the result: that thing the wind moves.    
Sometimes I felt dragged, as yesterday’s daydreams    
remembering, remembering always you are gone.    
   
But, though you have descended you have risen    
to remain my encouragement; you are within me    
and here shall remain for eternity…seeds have taken root    
in my heart despite your seeming absence.    
I believe it is the cycle of love, indestructibly growing    
dreams from those seeds through living words.    
   
Love is an eternal vibration I now feel---    
the pervasive humming of light is how I know you.    
It is the space, the separation that makes us:    
the known unknown fading from form    
to another, always returning to continue---    
as one wind follows the other, and more water    
flows under the bridge of new moments,    
   
True Love is becoming the story despite circumstance    
it is immortality through the sharing of words.    
~    
   
PoetsRevenge    
PoetsRevenge is an amazingly intense poet who couples human mortality with spiritual immortality.  She takes the unmaking of life to portray it is that very unmaking which makes us who we are. I have always been in awe of her writing ability to delve deeply into topics we may not want to face.  She stirs the uncomfortable inside us with hope and adds love with words.    
   
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/PoetsRevenge/

A new poetess is created
everyday, in my imagination.
To call her is my hearts beckoning,
to love her, a toxicity spewing
from the earths center,
molten hot.
 
To want her;
a prison I call home ---
 
(The man cannot love
or he self-destructs; implodes.
So he carries its glitter
to gild every word he pens.)
 
She hides in each shadow,
between sentences  
and flickers glances
in punctuation;
the poetess teases and
I follow her like  
freedoms harbinger of insanity.
For she feigns love, and in words
is this the tragedy:
 
She is too fluid to love, her
I cannot catch.
 
Though, I follow her underground
to bury myself in her  
rhetorical wisdom ---
That she eludes me ever in
the darkness.
 
Here, the poetess runs away into
her cavernous stories
she wants me to believe;
but I know her too well,
so I resist her taunts, her teases
only to live another day
in the faint daylight.
 
Sun setting as
I write evoking  
the Dark Poetess;
as she gives me meaning  
and reasons to love her  
this only way,  
even as, furthur down  
she runs away.

   .....

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/296044-moving-forward/

The ink hits the page
And instantly turns into
Wonderful artistry
Poems and Prose
They are few  
But all are quality
Self-confessed timidity
And self-deprecation
She attempts to hide  
This awesome talent
Not prideful - she should be
In the shadows
But emanating light
And inspiration
 
I stand in awe
Viewing masterpiece artwork
Ink, paint, charcoal and pencil
She makes them come to life
Horses dance and strike a pose
Landscapes languish luxuriously
Speaking directly to the soul
Speaking of true beauty
Portraits in pencil real quality
A quality of the photographic
Bringing all expressions
To life exposing her love
True artistry is her muse
 
My own art steadily improves
But only as a result of her
Influence and inspiration
When I grow up I want
May art to be as good as Umm's
She is a pinnacle to aim for
Though I suspect I she will
Always be the master
And I will be the student
 
Her poems equally inspirational
All her poems speak to me
In inspirational whispers
Creating poetic thoughts,
Remembrances and challenges
One cannot help being inspired
To write like the wordsmith she is
She is the consummate artist
Overflowing with such talent
Read her poems
Consume her prose
View her art
One cannot fail to be inspired
 
Self-confessed timidity
And self-deprecation
She attempts to hide  
This awesome talent
But her artistry roars
Beauty and Inspiration
 
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems-by/Umm/
 
see also
 
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/groups/d-u-gallery/discussion/