Give me your best punch

Give me your best poem, all new, no old. you can work together. give me something graphic. something that will make me wince at the brutality of it. maybe even the gorrynes of it. emotion.  raw. swear it up if you want. any kind of poem except erotica (no offence, i just dont read that). give it a go. ill review each one.

“I used to be dark,
If you’d met me,
You’d know.

It was no act,
But reality.
You all watched the show.

Pills filled my room,
Blades smelling like rust,
With the essence of smoke.

Bloody kisses on my arm,
And you sat around,
‘Cause you thought it was a joke.

I had dreamed that you’d help,
Or perhaps even notice,
I was losing my fight.

Well, it seems I lost.
Because I hit the bottom,
In my pointless life.

Here’s all that’s left,
Just my bloody note.”

The mother read aloud,
"That's all she wrote."

**I don't read erotic either, XD buuut I wrote this only a moment ago & well..

P.S., dearie, this isn't my best.. I just liked the story behind it, which was far more brutal. Entry limit?

Unlimited entry. as many as you want. i loved the story behind it too. I really liked the end, where its with the mom. its cool how it sorta pulls you to a bigger picture. good job

IMAGINE IF

Imagine if you woke up one day

Looked in the mirror

You had changed into a werewolf

In the middle of the night


Imagine if you went to visit an old friend

Had the right directions, right address

When you knocked on the door

The woman who opened the door was a witch


Imagine if you went to work

You came at 8 am

There was a sign on the door

Closed daily, open nightly

Vampires at sleep - please do not disturb


Imagine if you went to school

Went to your class in Biology

As you went to open the door

All the students were vomiting violently

Because the assignment said

Lick the frog - when you asked the teacher

She looked at you like she had never seen you before

When you looked at yourself in the mirror

You were oozing pus at every pore


Imagine if you went home

To talk to mom and dad

They seemed so happy to see you

But they were oddly clad

The house had changed

You were in the 15 th century

You looked at what you were wearing

Why you seemed to be a soldier

You could not understand their English

Perhaps they were Flemish?


When you ran outside

The neighborhood had changed

Large houses black and blurry

In an infernal fog

Sucked you in to a crowd

The crowd were all drunk

Here, have some mead

Join us, we are the dead

We only get have so much fun

Once a year - in the beginning of November

Why Lad is this not grand?

The dead are dancing throughout the land!!!!

Don't look so worried boy

Each some flesh, drink some wine

Enjoy! Enjoy!

thats good too. i love the fantasy of it.

but lets see some anger. some bloody gore that will scar me. come on. best punch (this isnt directed to you, just everyone in general)

For (and because of) Danielle

I am not perfect,
if tonight speaks truth.
I saw them leave the bar,
four of those cocky bastards.
Pulling their leather jackets tight,
cursing loudly at the cold.
I followed them a block away
watching as they peeled off one by one
'til there was only him left...
The man who ruined my life,
the coward that never knew my face—
well he'll find it tonight
engrained in his memory,
and if I'm lucky
he'll find my knuckles
traced on his face.
I rushed up an alley to cut him off.

Adrenaline washing my elated mind
and heightening my frozen senses,
impervious to the cold
and all I could hear was
"I'm sorry, there's someone else, I'm sorry"
over and over.
As he reached my alley lair,
I stepped out front of him with a savage "Hello."
"Shit—" THUD
was all that escaped his head
as my right knuckles broke his nose.
He staggered back, adding blood
to the salty slush beneath, still on his feet
which (THUD) a left hook to the eye
and (THUD) a knee to the balls
took care of.
I wasn't in the business of keeping shots clean,
I was in the business of causing him pain.
A heel to the gut, that thick thud
and a rush of exhaled air
and I crouched down in front of him.
Pulled his head level with mine,
feral-growled "Now you can have her,"
and threw his head back into the slush.

I am not perfect,
as I found out when I
staggered off smiling.

THE DROWNING POOL

there is a pool outside of town
that people only
whisper
about
they  call it
the drowning pool
and warn their children:
beware the pond
with its lilies and its frogs
it seems enchanted
in the most marvellous way
but many a child has
gone away
never to return
beware of the brokenhearted
for they are the first
to be lured
the tired
the sad
the despondent
have all ended up there

so for your own sake
do not go there

i have visited
the drowning pool
when you left me

and pondered the atmosphere there
it was heavy and hot and humid
cloying with a strange sweet scent
the vines on the trees touched the water
as a snake slowly lowered itself
and flicked its tongue
to lick the water
and survey the surface
for prey

we made love near the
drowning pool
in the abandoned mansion there
you told me you would love me forever
and never would i have a care

then you disappeared
without a  word
slipped from one world to the next
and i was left
loving a ghost
a ghost that still felt wet

i have not forgotten
the pleasure palace that we made
inside that place in woods
how our imagination alone
created
a sumptuous palace of our own

my ring now lies
in the drowning pool
at the bottom
where no person has seen
i threw it there
instead of me
because i wanted
not to care

i stand mesmerized
by the sound of cicadas
as i stare at my own face
it looks back at me
as if to say
come here
and find your place

my place
what place?
where Ophelia drowned
there is still room
the water says
for another one

i shake my head
and turn away
when suddenly i feel
the serpent climbing
up my leg
and your embrace of steel

PRIMA DONNA

you are such a bitch

you have such airs

you think your sh__ don’t stink

words that describe you are:

CONCIETED
ARROGANT
VAIN
DIVA
SHOW-OFF
DRAMA-QUEEN

you think the world revolves around you

you think you DESERVE - EVERTHING - you GOT

the TRUTH is you are OVER-RATED

you were lucky to be BORN into a RICH family

connected to EVERYBODY who is IMPORTANT in this town

an OVERGROWN, OVERPAID, spoiled BRAT

narcissistic/ materialistic /self-centered/ snob extravagant

massive ego/overrated/overestimated sense of self-importance.
   
   Prima-bitch
   Prima douche
   prima drama
   primal bitch
   diva bitch
   princess snob
   stuck-up

As the ROLLING STONES sang - YOU’RE SO VAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BURY ME STANDING

bury me standing
go ahead and kill me

bury me standing
i will never bow to you

bury me standing
you hold my religion against me

bury me standing
you do not like the colour of my skin

bury me standing
you think my race is inferiour

bury me standing
you will not recognize my country

bury me standing
you think i have no right to live

bury me standing
the united nations is useless

bury me standing
you really do not want peace

bury me standing
you look down on me

bury me standing
i am the last of my family to live

bury me standing
your torture will not affect me

bury me standing
you are the oppressor

bury me standing
i can feel your hate

bury me standing
we will have our revenge

bury me standing
even if we have no place to flee

bury me standing
for i will not give in

best
unlimited entry
wat

Were no sound Apears
Poem Image
i want to be def...
so i can no longer hear what has been
brought apone my life
were there is no one to judge me on my smile.
i want to obsolete what the next person says..
i want to close my ears..
were no sound apears..
for life to be like a dreamland.
and hatred words cant flow from thy evils tongue.
longing for a second of bliss..
so i shall not face the problems that i fear..
that i hear..
that has been close near..
i want to be def..
were my neighbor voice is vacant..absent
no longer here..
were your sound i shall not perceive.
know for this..
i want to close my ears..
were no sound  apears..


-Kumiko Yamamoto

the Devils Cocaine:
by Maikeru555 & Goodest

An arcane devout, no need to shout!
Demons posses, they won't leap out!
Am I a religious pain?
If I was Abel, I'd have killed Cain!

An Angelic deity, no need to worship!
Jesus dies, people do gossip!
Am I far from divine?
If I were Moses, I'd have deserted those swine!

I snort the devils cocaine,
the white stuff that relapses me to hell.
it leaves me unwell with eternal damnation,
and tripping over my lost salvation...

A Demon is simply an evil spirit.
We feel it in our thoughts, some claim to hear it.
Some evil spirits are even distilled,
but the jealous one is responsible for Abel being killed!

The devil's powder, his little white girl,
the dusty nose destroys all worlds.
They call her candy, and she seems so sweet,
so many times her utter sourness caused Jesus To Weep!

Dusted and disgusted,
how could the fiend ever be trusted?
The Road To Salvation is long, tiresome and slow.
After Moses claimed his victory, the devil offered his blow!

I snort the devils cocaine,
the escapism I need to survive this hell.
The voices of the divine, they do sometimes yell,
I know I am the beast, the one who fell...

really


for whose sake
what warrants you to easily take

that which we have yet to create

something fashioned
from a thought opaque

or patterned
from an outsized mistake


really


what would you secure from an artist ::something they’d call their smartest
perhaps it would be their hardest

what is it you have yet to see
a word dormant and
resting with me  

and by chance
not known to be free


really


tell me again my curious friend; what would you do without my pen

would you go about seeking another
or just toss the page  
not bother