deepundergroundpoetry.com
you planted pumpkins for me
melancholy October
played it's violin bow
against my rib cage
a lonely song
harrowing love
the kind that
rains down ash
upon my tear streaked face
you planted pumpkins
in the yard to make me grin
I saw jack o' lanterns
laughing at me
I turned my back on the day
embraced the night
the clouds pissed acid
burned my porcelain skin
gothic whore pious in her sin
reveled in my debauchery
see my night shine
let me live in this place
where the whiskey is strong
never runs out
the light's turned off
and you can't reach the switch
Published 18th Oct 2016
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Oh, my friend, I have been there. I have felt
the world close in against me. I tried to fight
against it, but the damn thing stood firm and
I thought I would die.. Wanted to die. But the
bully took pity on me, or so I thought, and
released me from the horror. Only to come
back another timer and another . . . Took me
years to kick its ass. But I did kick its ass.
the world close in against me. I tried to fight
against it, but the damn thing stood firm and
I thought I would die.. Wanted to die. But the
bully took pity on me, or so I thought, and
released me from the horror. Only to come
back another timer and another . . . Took me
years to kick its ass. But I did kick its ass.
18th Oct 2016 4:23am
thank you Jerry I will come back fighting just capturing a feeling tonight or trying to :)
love Brenda
love Brenda
18th Oct 2016 2:35am
18th Oct 2016 4:23am
I loved the imagery in this, Brenda. The visuals were very vivid in their descriptions. So much so I could smell the night air laced with wood smoke.
18th Oct 2016 4:24am
funny you should mention wood smoke as we do often have bonfires this time of year thank you Sage one..
love Brenda
love Brenda
18th Oct 2016 6:56pm
This one scalds but the gothic whore still glows:
the clouds pissed acid
burned my porcelain skin
gothic whore pious in her sin
And she doesn't ask much:
let me live in this place
where the whiskey is strong
never runs out
This could be Heaven or somewhere farther south. Or it could be at the pumpkin patch. I'm just waiting for mine to hatch....
the clouds pissed acid
burned my porcelain skin
gothic whore pious in her sin
And she doesn't ask much:
let me live in this place
where the whiskey is strong
never runs out
This could be Heaven or somewhere farther south. Or it could be at the pumpkin patch. I'm just waiting for mine to hatch....
18th Oct 2016 7:15pm
Anonymous
18th Oct 2016 10:15pm
<< post removed >>
18th Oct 2016 10:29pm
18th Oct 2016 11:35pm
20th Oct 2016 2:39pm
19th Oct 2016 1:24am
The darkness felt in your words is always so beautifying. A pleasure to read,Crim....
20th Oct 2016 2:40pm
19th Oct 2016 11:31am
Such intense power in your words. This part gave me goosebumps.
a lonely song
harrowing love
the kind that
rains down ash
upon my tear streaked face
Love your work!
a lonely song
harrowing love
the kind that
rains down ash
upon my tear streaked face
Love your work!
20th Oct 2016 2:41pm
Anonymous
19th Oct 2016 6:09pm
My Beautiful Brenda, oh these lines lovely one...the tiny hairs on my body stood at attention right from the get go....
"melancholy October
played it's violin bow
against my rib cage
a lonely song
harrowing love
the kind that
rains down ash
upon my tear streaked face"
~ amazing imagery here...hauntingly beautiful lovely one
I love you
Xoxoxo Taryn
"melancholy October
played it's violin bow
against my rib cage
a lonely song
harrowing love
the kind that
rains down ash
upon my tear streaked face"
~ amazing imagery here...hauntingly beautiful lovely one
I love you
Xoxoxo Taryn
20th Oct 2016 2:41pm
21st Oct 2016 11:05pm
22nd Oct 2016 9:14pm
