Poetry competition CLOSED 7th July 2019 1:45pm
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Doppelgänger: the DUP Oscars

poet Anonymous

cult groupie

  
cult groupie I hang on your jock  
you're all woman...I know  
but you got more balls then most men do  
a flip of the hair says you don't give a shit  
 
I'm on my knees trying to please you  
feminist cuntress---
you protest male egos so I don't have to  
you burned your bras  
so you wouldn't have to carry no hanger-ons  
I hear you say step off in my thoughts  
 
lady I can't help but to be attracted to you  
you got a steel vagina that talks for you whoa  
I'm deeply impressed narcissism is your dummy  
you made a punk out of him
 
it's all in a state of mind
you're in a state all your own
hallucinating truths to go to war with
 
my demons all hold protest signs
cos they have to pay taxes working for you
narcissistic yeah me too
 
I hang from a rope on a burned out light bulb
says this way out  
back me up on this were cool right?
suicide was never an option
 
 
poet Anonymous

[I'll] let her be ...               [a past passed lament to Crim]



today she turns 50...
& her poetic days
are slowly
tearing away
in tribut~ional trinkets
of tears ink'd
for we are vampires meek...
dying/drying within
for a desperate taste
of her blood[s] gifted;
though the godly darkness of her wing'd beauty
remains un'stained today
in words poetically cherished through [her] poem & poems
she does not know how grieved & lamented
she has suddenly become
under a vista of shattered sun's;
& perhaps & maybe
she is somewhere near
far & beyond, nurturing the divine
criminals of her sin
only she can understand;

[I'll]
    give her
            r o o m...

                [I'll]
                        let her
                                breath'e ~



[I'll] let her

be...



can you?




[devlin’s note:  this was a tribute piece I had written to Crim who was absent from DU, and was written on her 50th day of absence. . .I had missed her like we all had missed her, and rather than let this piece flounder in a flashdrive, I thought to re~pub. . .Good to have had you back, my Queen … I love you and always, your Ally in Darkness ... me]

poet Anonymous

Devlin i'm calling you

 
masturbate filth
let it talk for you
the devil's in the house
and he's eyeing you
 
you've been away far too long
Devlin i'm talking to you
within perverse pleasures
i'm stroking you
a thousand cuts on a bitch
will sing for you
 
depravity is King  
where you are concerned
don't leave me with blue balls
aching for a tongue slicing
only you can deliver
please I beg cut me in two
 
then decorate your body  
with my entrails
and parade for me
I know you lady  
I understand your needs
they've not been met
 
your pussy wet and creaming  
for death's deadly attentions
you fuck and get no relief
cos men with limp dicks
intellectually speaking  
do nothing for you
 
they need bring their wicked
their lethal
or don't bother stepping to you
cum demoness of the night
i'm calling you
 
 
poet Anonymous

LADY OF WISDOM AND GRACE

Her name is poetry itself.
Like a breeze in a forest whispers.
Evoking images of beauty,
tender and comforting feelings

From a Swedish genesis.
Now makes more magnificent
the majestic highlands,
the rocky shores of Scotland.

Loving mother.
Model of compassion.
Salve for wounded souls.
Unconditional friend.
Unimpeachable confidant.

Equestrian goddess.
She on horse mounted,
move together with fluid elegance.
On the course,
jumping rail, fence, or oxer undaunted.
Or on a lonely beach gliding,
hair, mane tousled by mist laden sea breeze.

Her words, unpretentious,
forged in her heart,
onto the page flow.
Untainted by convention or circumstance.
arranged by innate artistry
Satisfying saposexual lust.
poet Anonymous

ballerina

 
i
woven throughout your artistry are blood and tears
tears for the man who holds you--  
until the rest of the world disappears
 
ii
he kisses all your scars--
all the little scars that make up a woman...stain you beautiful  
you carry each one with grace the way only a woman can
 
iii
masochism an art form you ascribe to but it's never defined you
you're a woman born of pain
born into a world that crushes hopes and dreams
 
iv
ballerina pirouetting addiction
a thousand poppies will make you sleep to dream a new dream
imagine one into being and it will be so
 
v
in the field of illusion, you cast magic  
cast it on the airs hoping it comes back to you
in my heart I know it will your magic is pure
 
vi
I weep reading your love letters to the Sadist
your soul is neatly tucked in its pages
I read between the lines to find your heart  
corsetted and breathtaking as always I find it
 
vii
beautiful one I love you
 
poet Anonymous

beautiful Sky 🌹

 
sigh to kiss the skies...vulnerable beauty
delicate to the touch
dances on clouds
swirls, dips, and twirls in the energy
just to reach you

beautiful Sky_Dancer
I want to hold you
will you let me touch your divinity?

with a tender lilt, I serenade you
gorgeous Seraphim
eternal Goddess over the heavens

sister of my breast
your heart skips a beat
and I feel your love in my chest

sweet fountain of melancholy
within a breath of wind
you come unto me
bringing with you loving thoughts
of your soul's longing

I see you on the horizon
tattooing your desires on his skin
he responds to your calling

kiss the skies tender beauty
he is deeply feeling you 🌹


poet Anonymous

~ Valentine Hades


my dear[est] sanguine Valentine:
you don't know
how many times
I've committed this crime,
standing 'neath
your poetic rain
holding back
my burning lust, or trying to keep
from bursting an orgasmic [blood] vein;
and there was also a time
~and perhaps maybe even two~
when I felt like
gutting into my flesh and
ripping out my heart
and sending it directly to you
just so you could hold it, feel it
bloodied, beating,
oozing black and
pulsing blue
just a simple, harmless token
of how I'm such a fanatical for you;
so will you do me the honor
by sending me your best knife,
I promise I'll keep us a secret
especially from your wife ~



(for HadesRising)


poet Anonymous

limerick[s]      of an old Crow


I sat
with you
on a bench
eating a
twinkie
and
watching you
feed
paper'd
crumbs
to the
crows
because
somewhere within
their black
feathers
you
see ink
because
somewhere within
their
caw'ing
souls
you see
a poem;
all
I see
are pigeons
in
disguise

poet Anonymous

rensaku - moonlight tiger

1  
silver jungle moon  
soft pads caress the night earth  
golden eyes seeing  
swift the lightning yellow flash  
swifter still the kanji’s stroke  

2  
yellow candles burn  
the sensei’s shodo in black lines  
tiger’s smiling mask  
a simple breath taken in  
release universe expels  

3  
jade pandora’s box  
brushes ink a table set  
words form from fire smoke  
at every turn careful steps  
at every step careful words  
   
4  
silver jungle moon  
soft thoughts caress darkened air  
tiger eyes burning  
her simple lines bring world’s birth  
how rare night and moon would bow  
 
 
 
How rare a gift indeed is Jade Pandora. I believe this is not only my first rensaku, but my first tanka, as well, which I never would have accomplished had it not been for Jade.  
 
When I came to DUP I only knew sonnets. The mathematics of form was all that made sense to me. But Jade showed me through her work and our collaborations the beauty, grace, and structure of free form and the Japanese short forms.  
 
With ultimate love and reverence- I bow to my sensei...  
Jade Pandora  
 
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/Jade-Pandora/
poet Anonymous

Journey

   
   
She’s on a journey of the mind.
It’s cold with rain outside today,
The calendar says early May,
Her view is dusk, the end of day.
 
While all else in her world will keep,
She’s on a journey of the mind.
When she’s awake what will she find,
As unclaimed bags are left behind.
 
Not having touched a doorknob yet,
To watch a film as it unwinds.
She’s on a journey of the mind,
Incoming night, closing the blinds.
 
The images, as they recede
Is poetry to pass the time.
With pen in hand and unconfined,
She’s on a journey of the mind.    
 
 
 
 
Heaven_sent_Kathy:
Kathy is a poetess of her own pathways to answers of questions many of us as poets still seek, and would we recognize the answer if it hit us between the eyes.  Her subjects are often unique because it’s done in her own uncompromising style - especially when it comes to her faith and spirituality.  Kathy is never a ‘one note’ poet; enlightening, compelling, and thought-provoking.    
   
 Relatively recently having ventured into poetic structures less familiar, but responds consistently as a quick study.  As keen as Kathy is to stretch, I feel she still shines when going deep within her well-honed archive of life’s experiences through her free verse writes.      
   
She pulls no punches while staying grounded.  I thank her for the influence she’s brought to our poetic enclave.   With much respect, this is Jade, watching and reading.    
   
 https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/Heaven_sent_Kathy/
poet Anonymous

Darkest Lord

 
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    
   
     
   
   
 
poet Anonymous

mr fix-it ..

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/
poet Anonymous

The Boy With The Spear In His Side

Erased,  
vacant limbed, the amputee  
grows hopeful again, cautious      
and with gritted teeth, a smile    
body inhabited by thunder    
the crash of the self    
made wholly aware    
     
for there is substance now    
no longer dream, but canvas    
arcs of brush made lightning      
through shards of endless black  
proving themselves righteous    
infected with movement;    
the end of the nightmare      
     
there is no science here,    
or the crash of philosophy’s snare—    
but simply like your sighs, my dear      
you too, are becoming air    
     
.
 
 
Written for Todski, whos imagery and dedication to expression always floored and equally impressed me. He was, in my humble opinion, one of the most gifted writers to grace this shit heap. Cannot link due to his de-activation.
poet Anonymous

Aloha, Lover...

Stranded in the luscious folds of Pele’s gorgeous locks as this tempest swirls ‘round and within us,
we give no thought to forlorn predicament, tethered by the knowledge that these sacred shores held fast ‘gainst elements of greater magnitude than pounding rain, and greater heat than lovers’ sweat…  
faint magma glowing in the distance even now.        
          
Come evening, come morning, come to me in this dark day and night, fluttering 'cross my torso with the grace of Mālolo and rhythmic synchronicity of Mahimahi. I feel the swollen storm inside your elemental touch, your molten rocky soul.  
Can you hear the whispers on the gale, imploring us to blow our peaks to pieces, emulating fire goddess,    
our crackling sparks dispersed, redolent flowers in a lei?          
           
The storm will fade, and blow last kiss of sand and mist to meet our lips,          
her light will revel in our disarray, proclaiming with the day, “Aloha, lover.”
         
           
           
--I make this offering in the style of PandoraUnleashed, an inspiring creator of voluptuous verse;          
may she feel my adulation in this spill--          
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/345666-sweet-dreams-baby/
poet Anonymous

The Aphrodisiac Of My Muse

Infusing the need in me to want to explore, to conquer    
You taste the purest essence of me    
I palate your wants, covet your desires, feather stroke your yearns      
Inscribe your lust found deep in the core of me      
      
Enlightening souls seeking beautiful whispers in the dark      
Breath to breath      
Searching for the essential of his intellect      
Beautiful minds spiraling      
     
Cupid’s wings carrying the vessel of our being      
Encircled rhythmic pulses floating in midnight oasis      
Hidden dreams, visible hopes      
Caressing words upon the arch of life’s pedestal      
     
Coveting the mind        
Salvation giveth of our souls      
Netted into its alluring web      
Spun within tangled seductive tales      
     
Spoken, caressed, the harmonic lullabies      
Melodic music to the ears, felt, worshipped      
The taste of its pure satisfaction      
The tease of its inspiration      
Blanketing my existence, my spirit, my heart      
     
Suspending my mind      
Between the realm of reality      
The sweetest release of endorphins within my waking dreams      
Imprinting my soul of our oneness      
     
A torrid sensation      
Soaring on a Heavenly climatic destination      
Mind to mind    
Cohesive in its foray      
Caressing in its manner      
     
Liberating      
Mesmerizing      
His mind kisses me      
His voice cradles me      
The aphrodisiac of my muse  
 
   
😊…. An acclamation unto a gifted poet I give unto, who has such a beautiful knack to indulge any reader’s mind; a fierce pen, which wields such uplifting ink stains, whereas, the heart, the mind, can feel the vividness of the imagery, in addition, a keen ear to listen, to the depth of the soul, answering unbiasedly.    
   
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poets/I_IS_ME/  
 
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