Expel Specious Dialogue
Related submission no longer exists.
https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/396809-bony-cage-true-loves-decay/
My little inner trick-or-treater is saddened that Halloween is essentially a non option this year.
Where I am, no kids are trick or treating.
I'm usually the one who hands out the candy from my mom's house, because now she's too old to be up and down....
Since I haven't entered the house itself since March....
(checking in on Zoom, delivering her groceries and saying hello from the driveway) 'tis quite a different Halloween this year will be, indeed
My absolute favorite time of the year too.
Even if where I live is still 90° fucking degrees....
It's the promise of cooler weather and the darkness of bump in the night...
Ohhh how I do love it so.
🖤👻💀🕷️🧙🏻♀️🧛♂️👾☠️🧙♂️🧝♂️🦇 🎃🕸🐺⚰️🍬🖤
Related submission no longer exists.
Bluevelvete said:https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/396809-bony-cage-true-loves-decay/
My little inner trick-or-treater is saddened that Halloween is essentially a non option this year.
Where I am, no kids are trick or treating.
I'm usually the one who hands out the candy from my mom's house, because now she's too old to be up and down....
Since I haven't entered the house itself since March....
(checking in on Zoom, delivering her groceries and saying hello from the driveway) 'tis quite a different Halloween this year will be, indeed
My absolute favorite time of the year too.
Even if where I live is still 90° fucking degrees....
It's the promise of cooler weather and the darkness of bump in the night...
Ohhh how I do love it so.
🖤👻💀🕷️🧙🏻♀️🧛♂️👾☠️🧙♂️🧝♂️🦇 🎃🕸🐺⚰️🍬🖤
Hahaha
You are such a freak of darkness
I will have to spill something dark
for you
Lucretia Davidson one of my fav poets has left many of her pieces unfinished
There was no one to look out for her interest so now after her death her work is public domain
My favorite piece of hers I have finished or attempted to finish
There is something which I dread
It is a dark and painful thing
That sweeps along on destructive wing
It comes to me in times or grief and of sadness
It's not the fear of death I dread
It is the fear of madness
©Valeriya ©Lucretia Davidson
She was just a child when she died her story is tragic
She propmted Poe to dabble in Romantacism
My little inner trick-or-treater is saddened that Halloween is essentially a non option this year.
Where I am, no kids are trick or treating.
I'm usually the one who hands out the candy from my mom's house, because now she's too old to be up and down....
Since I haven't entered the house itself since March....
(checking in on Zoom, delivering her groceries and saying hello from the driveway) 'tis quite a different Halloween this year will be, indeed
My absolute favorite time of the year too.
Even if where I live is still 90° fucking degrees....
It's the promise of cooler weather and the darkness of bump in the night...
Ohhh how I do love it so.
🖤👻💀🕷️🧙🏻♀️🧛♂️👾☠️🧙♂️🧝♂️🦇 🎃🕸🐺⚰️🍬🖤
Hahaha
You are such a freak of darkness
I will have to spill something dark
for you
Lucretia Davidson one of my fav poets has left many of her pieces unfinished
There was no one to look out for her interest so now after her death her work is public domain
My favorite piece of hers I have finished or attempted to finish
There is something which I dread
It is a dark and painful thing
That sweeps along on destructive wing
It comes to me in times or grief and of sadness
It's not the fear of death I dread
It is the fear of madness
©Valeriya ©Lucretia Davidson
She was just a child when she died her story is tragic
She propmted Poe to dabble in Romantacism
You Fill Me Up
You fill me up
when I think of you.
All emptiness is gone
my heart filled
with rejection.
My soul is angry,
choking
me, regurgitating self doubt, like an aggravating
vomit in my throat,
Grief
occupies my sanity,
Through your eyes,
a clear window to
your soul, is covered
with filth.
An inpenetrable layer
of scum deposited
by countless lies
meant to slander me.
You fill me up
when I think of you.
Rage empowers me, motivates with no
direction
Discouragement racks
my body with illness.
Your irresponsible lack
of ownership is
spreading like a disease.
The heightened immaturity in which
you dwell, has reduced you to an unrecognizable
image of yourself.
Sensibility has escaped you, leaving behind
the confused persona
I see.
Denial embodies
your spirit. Once free,
free to love, and to
be loved.
Refuting your passion with shame and guilt.
Imposed upon you
by societies acceptable ways.
Claiming their thoughts and beliefs as your own
has retarded your step.
Dejavu has become tiresome, working to release yourself from
spiritual debt
is wearing you down.,
Realeasing myself
from your community
of insanity is nigh
when I think of you.
All emptiness is gone
my heart filled
with rejection.
My soul is angry,
choking
me, regurgitating self doubt, like an aggravating
vomit in my throat,
Grief
occupies my sanity,
Through your eyes,
a clear window to
your soul, is covered
with filth.
An inpenetrable layer
of scum deposited
by countless lies
meant to slander me.
You fill me up
when I think of you.
Rage empowers me, motivates with no
direction
Discouragement racks
my body with illness.
Your irresponsible lack
of ownership is
spreading like a disease.
The heightened immaturity in which
you dwell, has reduced you to an unrecognizable
image of yourself.
Sensibility has escaped you, leaving behind
the confused persona
I see.
Denial embodies
your spirit. Once free,
free to love, and to
be loved.
Refuting your passion with shame and guilt.
Imposed upon you
by societies acceptable ways.
Claiming their thoughts and beliefs as your own
has retarded your step.
Dejavu has become tiresome, working to release yourself from
spiritual debt
is wearing you down.,
Realeasing myself
from your community
of insanity is nigh
Written by Valeriyabeyond
(Dhyana)
Go To Page
You Fill Me Up
You fill me up
when I think of you.
All emptiness is gone
my heart filled
with rejection.
My soul is angry,
choking
me, regurgitating self doubt, like an aggravating
vomit in my throat,
Grief
occupies my sanity,
Through your eyes,
a clear window to
your soul, is covered
with filth.
An inpenetrable layer
of scum deposited
by countless lies
meant to slander me.
You fill me up
when I think of you.
Rage empowers me, motivates with no
direction
Discouragement racks
my body with illness.
Your irresponsible lack
of ownership is
spreading like a disease.
The heightened immaturity in which
you dwell, has reduced you to an unrecognizable
image of yourself.
Sensibility has escaped you, leaving behind
the confused persona
I see.
Denial embodies
your spirit. Once free,
free to love, and to
be loved.
Refuting your passion with shame and guilt.
Imposed upon you
by societies acceptable ways.
Claiming their thoughts and beliefs as your own
has retarded your step.
Dejavu has become tiresome, working to release yourself from
spiritual debt
is wearing you down.,
Realeasing myself
from your community
of insanity is nigh
when I think of you.
All emptiness is gone
my heart filled
with rejection.
My soul is angry,
choking
me, regurgitating self doubt, like an aggravating
vomit in my throat,
Grief
occupies my sanity,
Through your eyes,
a clear window to
your soul, is covered
with filth.
An inpenetrable layer
of scum deposited
by countless lies
meant to slander me.
You fill me up
when I think of you.
Rage empowers me, motivates with no
direction
Discouragement racks
my body with illness.
Your irresponsible lack
of ownership is
spreading like a disease.
The heightened immaturity in which
you dwell, has reduced you to an unrecognizable
image of yourself.
Sensibility has escaped you, leaving behind
the confused persona
I see.
Denial embodies
your spirit. Once free,
free to love, and to
be loved.
Refuting your passion with shame and guilt.
Imposed upon you
by societies acceptable ways.
Claiming their thoughts and beliefs as your own
has retarded your step.
Dejavu has become tiresome, working to release yourself from
spiritual debt
is wearing you down.,
Realeasing myself
from your community
of insanity is nigh
Written by Valeriyabeyond
(Dhyana)
Go To Page
Starving Dog
You bedazzle me, with
your sequined smile.
Your rich patina drags me,
through your tarnished
layers of lies and deceit.
You look back at me,
as I gnaw
on your fucked up ways
like a starving dog
chewing
on its own leg .
A sick act of obedience
I sit by your side
waiting
for you to vomit
more hatred
to relish in, as
you wait
to hear me say
amen followed by
Amen
You bedazzle me, with
your sequined smile.
Your rich patina drags me,
through your tarnished
layers of lies and deceit.
You look back at me,
as I gnaw
on your fucked up ways
like a starving dog
chewing
on its own leg .
A sick act of obedience
I sit by your side
waiting
for you to vomit
more hatred
to relish in, as
you wait
to hear me say
amen followed by
Amen
Fingered Embroidery
A faceless mother's kiss,
vanishes her embroidery box,
once filled with yellow jackets
and bennies
sits empty,
Splintered arbor leans,
over new harvest of cabbages,
ugly paint sloughing off
like dead skin
Bugle plays Sayonara
as Mother surfaces, outside
the garden,
screaming at the rays
that fade,
her sun bleached
kimono
A faceless mother's kiss,
vanishes her embroidery box,
once filled with yellow jackets
and bennies
sits empty,
Splintered arbor leans,
over new harvest of cabbages,
ugly paint sloughing off
like dead skin
Bugle plays Sayonara
as Mother surfaces, outside
the garden,
screaming at the rays
that fade,
her sun bleached
kimono
I stand vertical looking down
upon thumbnails that grow, from
the tips
of unteathered wings.
Scratching my rough hewn conscience
beneath comfort.
Values dangle
with morality
like bloody hangnails across solid wood.
Water spills
from a bowl, blown
from silica glass
it turns,
as a spinning globe
a vintage marble
that skittered.
Light shines onto bent words spoken
aloud yet, never heard
The wind
in her exuberant ways carried off
every apology
sewing them into
the lining of betrayal
Custom layered drapery
for your
mausoleum.
upon thumbnails that grow, from
the tips
of unteathered wings.
Scratching my rough hewn conscience
beneath comfort.
Values dangle
with morality
like bloody hangnails across solid wood.
Water spills
from a bowl, blown
from silica glass
it turns,
as a spinning globe
a vintage marble
that skittered.
Light shines onto bent words spoken
aloud yet, never heard
The wind
in her exuberant ways carried off
every apology
sewing them into
the lining of betrayal
Custom layered drapery
for your
mausoleum.
I could hear your demise
unravel, from the floor of
your brain.
Along with icy clusters
of forget me not it's blossoms
withered
They twitch, with the air blue,
while it quivers, under
banished sunlight.
Glitter sticks on your lip
while laughter spills out,
like a tangled fern or a
grieving dove that sits
on your aching groin.
Your leftovers retrieved
from the boneyard by the
drug induced maiden.
The famish'd bitch, her
appetite slick with the
ointment of pitch.
Shadows of you fall amongst
sepulchers and cypress bent,
disheveled and unshaven
you lie slumped
onto the log of fruited fig
Your heart no longer throttled
rests in hopelessness as
a wooden puppet with broken
strings serves you crystal clear
water from a chipped
demitasse cup
unravel, from the floor of
your brain.
Along with icy clusters
of forget me not it's blossoms
withered
They twitch, with the air blue,
while it quivers, under
banished sunlight.
Glitter sticks on your lip
while laughter spills out,
like a tangled fern or a
grieving dove that sits
on your aching groin.
Your leftovers retrieved
from the boneyard by the
drug induced maiden.
The famish'd bitch, her
appetite slick with the
ointment of pitch.
Shadows of you fall amongst
sepulchers and cypress bent,
disheveled and unshaven
you lie slumped
onto the log of fruited fig
Your heart no longer throttled
rests in hopelessness as
a wooden puppet with broken
strings serves you crystal clear
water from a chipped
demitasse cup
Decaying Persona
Cheap cigarettes generic ink, wasted
away on such a dreary
farce.
You, are your own creation, a grab bag
of lies and turmoil
churning out adulterated joy.
A decaying persona
unkept. unswept
debris spills
the ink pot onto
a vintage neon sign.
Your image
arcing from the
excitement of its own
reflection.
On cue, in walks
pretty pink panties
with matching
lipstick and fishnets
in white.
She polishes her vanity
while making her appearance
on the back
of the magazine cover
in your head
the one
with the glossy pages
for easy cleaning.
Your bullshit smile, searches
for recognition
in this age-old
amusement of satisfy the cock.
One trick pony,
needs a new trick
an incentive for the farceur to remain
the opening act in the
cluster fucked, mulched over, theme park littered, with
stockings and stilettos.
Your face pictured
on t-shirts
and Halloween masks
Vying for the lead
in this game.
Always claiming the trophy when you're
the only player.
away on such a dreary
farce.
You, are your own creation, a grab bag
of lies and turmoil
churning out adulterated joy.
A decaying persona
unkept. unswept
debris spills
the ink pot onto
a vintage neon sign.
Your image
arcing from the
excitement of its own
reflection.
On cue, in walks
pretty pink panties
with matching
lipstick and fishnets
in white.
She polishes her vanity
while making her appearance
on the back
of the magazine cover
in your head
the one
with the glossy pages
for easy cleaning.
Your bullshit smile, searches
for recognition
in this age-old
amusement of satisfy the cock.
One trick pony,
needs a new trick
an incentive for the farceur to remain
the opening act in the
cluster fucked, mulched over, theme park littered, with
stockings and stilettos.
Your face pictured
on t-shirts
and Halloween masks
Vying for the lead
in this game.
Always claiming the trophy when you're
the only player.
Written by Valeriyabeyond
(Dhyana)
Go To Page
I was taught that if you have to ask, the answer is probably opposite your favor... but what is a lesson which isn't worth learning again??
- Lay Cordon Meth(a Donor Dick Up Your Ass)
Unshackle your slits... Phone lay Cordon meth.
Let my feckless lolly slipstream your neck.
< ;.x 3 Kick the shit in your knickers
to double down on the blech?..
Inner demon Snickers,
"CHECK!" 😈
then I figured,
might ass well toast
to dick. Performed the "CPR-
-while-obstructing-breath" trick.
Broke your sternum just for the heck'.
...X... Now to get stethoscopic, proof...
Post on YouTube my new life AFTER Beth.
(MTP) - Ray < ;.D 3
Master Tasteless Poetaster
(This is a shape poem. If it doesn't look like a demon sex toy going up an anus, then adjust your browser.)
- Lay Cordon Meth(a Donor Dick Up Your Ass)
Unshackle your slits... Phone lay Cordon meth.
Let my feckless lolly slipstream your neck.
< ;.x 3 Kick the shit in your knickers
to double down on the blech?..
Inner demon Snickers,
"CHECK!" 😈
then I figured,
might ass well toast
to dick. Performed the "CPR-
-while-obstructing-breath" trick.
Broke your sternum just for the heck'.
...X... Now to get stethoscopic, proof...
Post on YouTube my new life AFTER Beth.
(MTP) - Ray < ;.D 3
Master Tasteless Poetaster
(This is a shape poem. If it doesn't look like a demon sex toy going up an anus, then adjust your browser.)
arortiz73 said:I was taught that if you have to ask, the answer is probably opposite your favor... but what is a lesson which isn't worth learning again??
- Lay Cordon Meth(a Donor Dick Up Your Ass)
Unshackle your slits... Phone lay Cordon meth.
Let my feckless lolly slipstream your neck.
< ;.x 3 Kick the shit in your knickers
to double down on the blech?..
Inner demon Snickers,
"CHECK!" 😈
then I figured,
might ass well toast
to dick. Performed the "CPR-
-while-obstructing-breath" trick.
Broke your sternum just for the heck'.
...X... Now to get stethoscopic, proof...
Post on YouTube my new life AFTER Beth.
(MTP) - Ray < ;.D 3
Master Tasteless Poetaster
(This is a shape poem. If it doesn't look like a demon sex toy going up an anus, then adjust your browser.)
Great entry
- Lay Cordon Meth(a Donor Dick Up Your Ass)
Unshackle your slits... Phone lay Cordon meth.
Let my feckless lolly slipstream your neck.
< ;.x 3 Kick the shit in your knickers
to double down on the blech?..
Inner demon Snickers,
"CHECK!" 😈
then I figured,
might ass well toast
to dick. Performed the "CPR-
-while-obstructing-breath" trick.
Broke your sternum just for the heck'.
...X... Now to get stethoscopic, proof...
Post on YouTube my new life AFTER Beth.
(MTP) - Ray < ;.D 3
Master Tasteless Poetaster
(This is a shape poem. If it doesn't look like a demon sex toy going up an anus, then adjust your browser.)
Great entry
As demon advocacy goes, here's a true story
When In Fort Ord (TRUE STORY)
Sometimes you get bored.
(Several times.)
So you haunt the ruins of Ft. Ord.
(ANY time.)
You cloister the church and barracks.
(Most 'the time)
You AVOID...
(because you're mindful)
getting caught for trespassing and loitering crimes.
(Sometimes...)
You explore the attics.
(Well, one time.)
And find a kink's treasure trove of magic tricks!
(Naughty pantomime!!)
(Sometimes.)
You and your drunk partner
(At the time.)
trunk the whole haul home...
(Because you're that kind of slime.)
(Sometimes.)
You wash and sterilize.
(Several times!)
(The whole time.)
You stare at the "new-to-you" fare and fantasize.
(Doe eyes.)
(The first time.)
You strike a contract to play.
(...And here's where you sign.)
(This time.)
You easy-talk her into the negligee.
('Can't scare her away before she's mine.)
And she backs you sleazily into
a YOU-sized dildo generously up the behind.
(Now you know why she whines.)
(Sometimes.)
You pretend not to know what she wants.
(And now.)
There are plenty of toys to flaunt.
So you play the boy, since...
She quickly claims the sinful aunt.
(Sometimes the light splits 3 ways.)
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
(Sometimes a night lasts three days.)
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
(Sometimes.)
You wake in a daze to discover,
along with the toys and your lover,
there's the lingering presence of something other;
the strings of something stronger...
As your partner flaunts Auntie again,
and you get more shit up your end,
a growing frequency taunts...
...Ensconced among the presents,
you essence brought home...
a HAUNT.
... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ...
...
(So many times.)
We used to go out a bunch!
Now we're seldom up before lunch...
with all my new chores and such.
(Sometimes.)
I don't roam from the bedroom much.
Which is fine.
(Sometimes.)
We never have the time
to wait in line.
(Sometimes.)
(We'd rather be home spending fucking time.)
(But sometimes.)
It's funny...
how can I always be hungry,
when thanks to my new caring aunty...
I eat out ALL THE TIME!
(And the sometimes just keep coming.)
(MTP) < ;.} 3
DEBASED BUT... A TRUE STORY.
When In Fort Ord (TRUE STORY)
Sometimes you get bored.
(Several times.)
So you haunt the ruins of Ft. Ord.
(ANY time.)
You cloister the church and barracks.
(Most 'the time)
You AVOID...
(because you're mindful)
getting caught for trespassing and loitering crimes.
(Sometimes...)
You explore the attics.
(Well, one time.)
And find a kink's treasure trove of magic tricks!
(Naughty pantomime!!)
(Sometimes.)
You and your drunk partner
(At the time.)
trunk the whole haul home...
(Because you're that kind of slime.)
(Sometimes.)
You wash and sterilize.
(Several times!)
(The whole time.)
You stare at the "new-to-you" fare and fantasize.
(Doe eyes.)
(The first time.)
You strike a contract to play.
(...And here's where you sign.)
(This time.)
You easy-talk her into the negligee.
('Can't scare her away before she's mine.)
And she backs you sleazily into
a YOU-sized dildo generously up the behind.
(Now you know why she whines.)
(Sometimes.)
You pretend not to know what she wants.
(And now.)
There are plenty of toys to flaunt.
So you play the boy, since...
She quickly claims the sinful aunt.
(Sometimes the light splits 3 ways.)
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
(Sometimes a night lasts three days.)
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
(Sometimes.)
You wake in a daze to discover,
along with the toys and your lover,
there's the lingering presence of something other;
the strings of something stronger...
As your partner flaunts Auntie again,
and you get more shit up your end,
a growing frequency taunts...
...Ensconced among the presents,
you essence brought home...
a HAUNT.
... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ...
...
(So many times.)
We used to go out a bunch!
Now we're seldom up before lunch...
with all my new chores and such.
(Sometimes.)
I don't roam from the bedroom much.
Which is fine.
(Sometimes.)
We never have the time
to wait in line.
(Sometimes.)
(We'd rather be home spending fucking time.)
(But sometimes.)
It's funny...
how can I always be hungry,
when thanks to my new caring aunty...
I eat out ALL THE TIME!
(And the sometimes just keep coming.)
(MTP) < ;.} 3
DEBASED BUT... A TRUE STORY.
Okay here's my version of an "exquisite corpse".
Poetaster's Dead Society, EC Guide:
1.) Players choose a fucked up poem topic.
2.) Player writes a related stanza to start the poem.
3.) Next player follows previous stanza with their own.
4.) Repeat. Etc. < ;.p3
Poetaster's Dead Society, EC Guide:
1.) Players choose a fucked up poem topic.
2.) Player writes a related stanza to start the poem.
3.) Next player follows previous stanza with their own.
4.) Repeat. Etc. < ;.p3
