Poetry competition CLOSED 15th May 2014 7:09pm
WINNER
ScarlettA (Scarlett_A)
ScarlettA (Scarlett_A)
RUNNERS-UP:
Gonzo69
and Madintellect
ruthless affair
I don't remember your name, so I call you Feb 2002
yeah, it's ok though
I mean there was never really
all that much to know about you
beyond the superficial
the initial hook
of the good looking legs
and the tight ass
but there was nothing else
no depth or class no mystery
and it seems to me
that history followed you around
with a neon sign
and that was fine for a night
one good fuck
that might have been remembered
for a day or two
then who really cared
if you cried or died or just moved on
to the next guy
who felt the need
to paint his seed on your face
so in-case there is any doubt
it was only ever about lust
always just ejaculation
never love
it was never about love.
yeah, it's ok though
I mean there was never really
all that much to know about you
beyond the superficial
the initial hook
of the good looking legs
and the tight ass
but there was nothing else
no depth or class no mystery
and it seems to me
that history followed you around
with a neon sign
and that was fine for a night
one good fuck
that might have been remembered
for a day or two
then who really cared
if you cried or died or just moved on
to the next guy
who felt the need
to paint his seed on your face
so in-case there is any doubt
it was only ever about lust
always just ejaculation
never love
it was never about love.
Ruthless, going to a place where the youth is
trying to simply exist
but unallowed to persist
so a crowd, through the mist
exists, an army that march
theyre.storming your porch
Take you? It burnt like a torch
forever your search
for internation help
has been casting a welt
a palestindians felt
thier heart ment
along the gaza belt
south of border.
Because evil says its now the home of the new world order
i hope your not a.supporter
of children abducted from home
parents.camp? Different zone
persecussion shown
(is always about past people like hittler)
But when i say look into his financial funding?
Thats when i feel like the riddler
Alowing the same mentality today
adversity occurs the way we all believe the play
of mainstream, corporate sponcers lens.
Metephoric for suggestive thoughts they weave and leave.in
the back of your mind, were the false version of truth
is actually what we feed.the youth
through education
fuk palastindiaz desimation
and terrortory creation
Of so.called nation
who thibk.that theyre gods.choosen.children
why.anybody.watches the news,ater.911. iTS BEWILDER'in
trying to simply exist
but unallowed to persist
so a crowd, through the mist
exists, an army that march
theyre.storming your porch
Take you? It burnt like a torch
forever your search
for internation help
has been casting a welt
a palestindians felt
thier heart ment
along the gaza belt
south of border.
Because evil says its now the home of the new world order
i hope your not a.supporter
of children abducted from home
parents.camp? Different zone
persecussion shown
(is always about past people like hittler)
But when i say look into his financial funding?
Thats when i feel like the riddler
Alowing the same mentality today
adversity occurs the way we all believe the play
of mainstream, corporate sponcers lens.
Metephoric for suggestive thoughts they weave and leave.in
the back of your mind, were the false version of truth
is actually what we feed.the youth
through education
fuk palastindiaz desimation
and terrortory creation
Of so.called nation
who thibk.that theyre gods.choosen.children
why.anybody.watches the news,ater.911. iTS BEWILDER'in
Anonymous
Love is not finding a perfect half, but an imperfect whole
He could still look
beyond my fingers
without ego, or expectation
of seeing the world blur
imperfection;
I ran wild with his mind
as an equal, his skin ripping
to display galleries of flaws
and they engraved themselves
on my bones as I touched
his flesh, reading the braille
of his spine:
He was beautifully divine
and I fed him my soul,
never fathoming
the boundaries
the blood-scorched lines
on which we danced eye to eye,
Adam's rib and Eve's lie;
silence in the abattoir
He could still look
beyond my fingers
without ego, or expectation
of seeing the world blur
imperfection;
I ran wild with his mind
as an equal, his skin ripping
to display galleries of flaws
and they engraved themselves
on my bones as I touched
his flesh, reading the braille
of his spine:
He was beautifully divine
and I fed him my soul,
never fathoming
the boundaries
the blood-scorched lines
on which we danced eye to eye,
Adam's rib and Eve's lie;
silence in the abattoir
Safe Word: Harder
Other men won't do the things,
that you do to me?
They say they can't stand
the idea of another man
laying his hands on me.
They all wonder how
I expect them to hurt me,
the way that I want?
The way that I ask.
This is always confusing.
Each time so confusing.
Than there's you.
I need your pain.
Your blaring voice.
Degrading words.
I need you like The
Cutter needs her razor.
Oxytocin is my drug of choice
and you, the only dealer in town.
You understand me. You monster.
I hate you. I'm afraid of you
but I can't leave you alone.
I show up on your doorstep trembling.
You always welcome me in smiling.
You show me a touch of mercy
by letting me pull off your whiskey bottle
before calling me a "stupid bitch."
You drag me by my hair, up the stairs,
kicking and screaming.
I Thank You.
You asked me once if I needed a safe word?
I responded sarcastically,
"Yeah, Safe Word: Harder."
You knocked me to my knees for that.
I Thank You.
I never look you in the eyes.
I'm too scared.
You never take your eyes off me.
I'm still scared.
You understand, unlike other men
I don't have sex to cum.
I just want to cry.
Anyone can make me cum.
I can make me cum.
You know how to make me cry
and never stop until I do.
Hands around my throat.
Sodomizing me until I'm ashamed.
I scream, "I'm sorry!"
I plead, "I'll be good!"
Safe Word: Harder
I Thank You.
When your cock is hard
you always say,
"My Dirty Little Whore"
and that's how I know
that I'm doing my job.
finally when I can't stand it anymore:
the brave face goes,
I lose the battle,
and I'm no longer tough.
The tears, they come.
The only thing that does.
The tears they come.
They fall.
You sigh, you smile
and tell me,
"Now, that's a good girl."
Only then, you stop.
Still watching me.
Tears soaking my face and hair.
I'm shaking, devastated
and so dead/ alive.
That's when you always stop.
When I finally cry, you let up,
if you've finished or not.
I thank you.
You are the only one that does this.
I've never asked
or told you how much I need this.
It's just what you do.
It's why I've never needed a "Safe Word."
I come back
even though every time I leave,
I swear I never will.
Like the husband who tells his wife
that he promises to leave his mistress.
You understand me. You monster.
I hate you. I'm afraid of you
but I can't leave you alone.
You help me up.
I put my clothes back on.
You always walk me out and
say, "Have a good day, Little Lady."
You shut the door
and that bottle of whiskey
behind you, until I knock again.
So, I go home to a man,
who won't do what you do to me.
He touches my face gently,
sizing me up.
He asks if I've been crying
but I tell him to, "fuck off!"
He smiles at this
and kisses me.
I kiss him back. I rarely do.
Today, I do.
He thanks me sweetly
but should Thank You.
Other men won't do the things,
that you do to me?
They say they can't stand
the idea of another man
laying his hands on me.
They all wonder how
I expect them to hurt me,
the way that I want?
The way that I ask.
This is always confusing.
Each time so confusing.
Than there's you.
I need your pain.
Your blaring voice.
Degrading words.
I need you like The
Cutter needs her razor.
Oxytocin is my drug of choice
and you, the only dealer in town.
You understand me. You monster.
I hate you. I'm afraid of you
but I can't leave you alone.
I show up on your doorstep trembling.
You always welcome me in smiling.
You show me a touch of mercy
by letting me pull off your whiskey bottle
before calling me a "stupid bitch."
You drag me by my hair, up the stairs,
kicking and screaming.
I Thank You.
You asked me once if I needed a safe word?
I responded sarcastically,
"Yeah, Safe Word: Harder."
You knocked me to my knees for that.
I Thank You.
I never look you in the eyes.
I'm too scared.
You never take your eyes off me.
I'm still scared.
You understand, unlike other men
I don't have sex to cum.
I just want to cry.
Anyone can make me cum.
I can make me cum.
You know how to make me cry
and never stop until I do.
Hands around my throat.
Sodomizing me until I'm ashamed.
I scream, "I'm sorry!"
I plead, "I'll be good!"
Safe Word: Harder
I Thank You.
When your cock is hard
you always say,
"My Dirty Little Whore"
and that's how I know
that I'm doing my job.
finally when I can't stand it anymore:
the brave face goes,
I lose the battle,
and I'm no longer tough.
The tears, they come.
The only thing that does.
The tears they come.
They fall.
You sigh, you smile
and tell me,
"Now, that's a good girl."
Only then, you stop.
Still watching me.
Tears soaking my face and hair.
I'm shaking, devastated
and so dead/ alive.
That's when you always stop.
When I finally cry, you let up,
if you've finished or not.
I thank you.
You are the only one that does this.
I've never asked
or told you how much I need this.
It's just what you do.
It's why I've never needed a "Safe Word."
I come back
even though every time I leave,
I swear I never will.
Like the husband who tells his wife
that he promises to leave his mistress.
You understand me. You monster.
I hate you. I'm afraid of you
but I can't leave you alone.
You help me up.
I put my clothes back on.
You always walk me out and
say, "Have a good day, Little Lady."
You shut the door
and that bottle of whiskey
behind you, until I knock again.
So, I go home to a man,
who won't do what you do to me.
He touches my face gently,
sizing me up.
He asks if I've been crying
but I tell him to, "fuck off!"
He smiles at this
and kisses me.
I kiss him back. I rarely do.
Today, I do.
He thanks me sweetly
but should Thank You.
a balancing act at twilight
the rain's baptismal kisses
never begin to drop me to my knees
until i'm atop that hill
engulfed by green,
spinning free...
straddling the gyrating void--
one foot perched in
sweltering adoration;
the other bracing
an unparalleled dimension
of selfish, panging rhythm
your compass-like hands
find purchase in fistfulls
of my feral locks
to rein in and anchor
the wanton immediacy
banishing wayward doubts
from our private bacchanalia
smoldering eyes warn
not to dare placations
of disingenuous pillow talk
(there are no strings here)
because we both know
i'm one of many
and we both know
i'm just passing through
(there were no strings here)
all i want is a surety
for that moment;
amidst your thrall,
when i scream my
sincerest confessions-
i've mattered
for an iota
after all
the rain's baptismal kisses
never begin to drop me to my knees
until i'm atop that hill
engulfed by green,
spinning free...
straddling the gyrating void--
one foot perched in
sweltering adoration;
the other bracing
an unparalleled dimension
of selfish, panging rhythm
your compass-like hands
find purchase in fistfulls
of my feral locks
to rein in and anchor
the wanton immediacy
banishing wayward doubts
from our private bacchanalia
smoldering eyes warn
not to dare placations
of disingenuous pillow talk
(there are no strings here)
because we both know
i'm one of many
and we both know
i'm just passing through
(there were no strings here)
all i want is a surety
for that moment;
amidst your thrall,
when i scream my
sincerest confessions-
i've mattered
for an iota
after all
