deepundergroundpoetry.com
Elizabeth of Bathory, did her bet slip past me?
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
Thrice the pity
I can't escape Vice city;
I might lift my head
See I'm too bright and righteous
For it to fit me.
Stay with me, alright Kitty?
Vice City, it invites gritty spice,
Tricky oddities, pretty commodities
At high velocity mobbing from me.
For everyone we rob persnickety quick
With a flick of the wrists
These cards split. Shifting easily,
The gift of a sleazy, tipsy and queasy
Job is art that riffs after a whiff pleasing me.
A shift increases ellipses...
Seeing sharks quick feeds me
And the mob, get it?
Slipped that one pun
Under the gun with ease,
Ellipses, dun, dun, dun...
Come undone for fun
With a loose tongue
For lucid grooving
Elucidation moving
Emotional animation
From the notion of escalation
In revealing what's unexpected
From feelings repressed and recollected.
To heal I'm stealing and inspecting
What's real and repressed.
Scoping close, opening with questions,
Hoping prose can keep it clothed with discretion.
A hymnal of interjection
After a minute of introspection,
Fuck discretion! My prose rips chodes
Tips rocks, hopes to rip clothes off,
Show a state of flowing with grace
Blowing straight to the top.
A jape I can't stop.
Out of my control wrath scrubs,
Every shout my soul in a bathtub
Not consoled by a backrub
But baiting with terror,
Made to be the carrier
Of scarier bare souls of werewolves
Sharing their despair.
Beware they're all out there.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
Bright flares of nightmares
Tightly ensnare me,
Waiting to get me mating
With Elizabeth of Bathory.
No riddle bit that's a tragedy.
The original mistress of abysmal hatchets
Maidens made and raised to sacrifice,
Hack and have as a caste habit.
I adapt to the wrath hidden
In modern caste systems
And masticate this unbidden.
Massively craggy sacrifices picked as sprouts
Written out of history but I'm devout
Seeking out to rock what others forgot
Like the whole lot of missing victims
That were grabbed and dragged,
Drained into bathtubs.
A missive of evil bliss
For Elizabeth isn't past me.
Mistress of Bathory is right there
In every nightmare, cleverly bright
Eyes that dare to divide my senses
Compare intense quarry,
Share her hunt; bare me her cunt,
Unfair fall out
When she calls me out so blunt.
Run there and it's an all-out
Brunt of guilt wilting
Jilting back from burly rage,
Surly life, sure of earlier life
Unlocking earlier days were unlucked!
Sucks to be so utterly FUCKED
By such a squirrelly fray,
Karma warmly warning me
'It's on ya' see!'
No escaping ancient crimes,
Played back from time
Remaining in rhymes.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
This wasn't a colder prattle mission,
It's an older battle vision,
Some soldier had it with his division.
A further disturber is the legal fee
For a deserter herded before medieval Queen
Bathory's regal scene.
A distressed entrance fee
Was the recipe for every henchman in her legacy.
Greater gleams, this fader always has his means
So later in the scene: Ahead of me, the crowd rallies.
Instead I'm about the alley.
Dead-set, I'm scouting sadly a poor scalli
For the next tragedy.
Her head and mouth
Are ensnared, no shout.
Thickly bagged and quickly dragged,
Brought to the sickly brig
To be fragged and fridged.
It's just too bad what we all did.
The screams echo hourly.
This scene is mean
But it's the Queen's salary.
A bad explanation?
It's tragic that the real magic
Wasn't bacchanalian like Aleister Crowley.
How was this allowed to be?
What decision made this battle vision
All over like a cattle's mission
Following the herd?
What disturbed soldier fit in
With what history had often
Forgotten. What was written in?
Unpardoned from victory's margins?
Slack entailed blackmail.
Pain doesn't rain flack, it hails!
Clever talent challenged,
Better to remain out of jail.
Trained to tail without folding over,
A scout soldier went over
Plenty of enemy lines and back
So he could sack a hoodrat.
His checkered track record
Was a vast direct stack of wrecks
Attacking where enemies least expect.
He understood what fits to be happening
Within a kidnapping
Quicker than Jack the Ripper's
Lasting crass flings.
Alas, my vast soul charts
Through asshole arts
The deep past and rolls to start.
Ill and tired I desire to be still
But I will listen to victims sickened,
Shrill cries undisguised behind my eyes.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
Wanting to be free,
Taunting sprees haunting me,
Ontological breeze
Mincing my psychology,
Rinsing diabolically.
The best of my head
Is invested in the restless undead,
Bonus japes can only escape
After their onuses are abated.
So I don't play with prayers,
I just spray it.
Unwinding flack crimes
In every backrhyme,
Reminding me vast of the shine,
The slack is mine.
My best contention
Is to invest in redemption
Right there is where bright flares
Of nightmares ensnare me.
Harm came their way
So I'm farming karma today
Alarming you in warnings everyway.
It isn't a convenient genius
To be gritty when what I mean
Is spent in every scene,
Sent in dreams and set to ream.
I might luck out abit you see,
But Christfuck it's shitty
The bright lust so pretty.
Distilling my instinct
So I'm willing to be distinct and ill.
Clever still, never had my fill
Because urgently bad weather
Is currency for my till.
I think being reborn to reform
Free the scorn lately is a shady play
For the creator who made me.
Wonder if he was under haze
Or just rushed and so I got stuck?
Maybe. It's all just crazy
But uplifts me in terse bursts
From being a baby more cursed
Weaned on the horrorverse's
Pierced titties. Nutrition in visions
Slips in every fireburst.
It's the price I have to lift by degrees.
So it's thrice the pity
I can't escape Vice City.
I might lift my head and see
I'm too bright and righteous for it to fit me.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
Thrice the pity
I can't escape Vice city;
I might lift my head
See I'm too bright and righteous
For it to fit me.
Stay with me, alright Kitty?
Vice City, it invites gritty spice,
Tricky oddities, pretty commodities
At high velocity mobbing from me.
For everyone we rob persnickety quick
With a flick of the wrists
These cards split. Shifting easily,
The gift of a sleazy, tipsy and queasy
Job is art that riffs after a whiff pleasing me.
A shift increases ellipses...
Seeing sharks quick feeds me
And the mob, get it?
Slipped that one pun
Under the gun with ease,
Ellipses, dun, dun, dun...
Come undone for fun
With a loose tongue
For lucid grooving
Elucidation moving
Emotional animation
From the notion of escalation
In revealing what's unexpected
From feelings repressed and recollected.
To heal I'm stealing and inspecting
What's real and repressed.
Scoping close, opening with questions,
Hoping prose can keep it clothed with discretion.
A hymnal of interjection
After a minute of introspection,
Fuck discretion! My prose rips chodes
Tips rocks, hopes to rip clothes off,
Show a state of flowing with grace
Blowing straight to the top.
A jape I can't stop.
Out of my control wrath scrubs,
Every shout my soul in a bathtub
Not consoled by a backrub
But baiting with terror,
Made to be the carrier
Of scarier bare souls of werewolves
Sharing their despair.
Beware they're all out there.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
Bright flares of nightmares
Tightly ensnare me,
Waiting to get me mating
With Elizabeth of Bathory.
No riddle bit that's a tragedy.
The original mistress of abysmal hatchets
Maidens made and raised to sacrifice,
Hack and have as a caste habit.
I adapt to the wrath hidden
In modern caste systems
And masticate this unbidden.
Massively craggy sacrifices picked as sprouts
Written out of history but I'm devout
Seeking out to rock what others forgot
Like the whole lot of missing victims
That were grabbed and dragged,
Drained into bathtubs.
A missive of evil bliss
For Elizabeth isn't past me.
Mistress of Bathory is right there
In every nightmare, cleverly bright
Eyes that dare to divide my senses
Compare intense quarry,
Share her hunt; bare me her cunt,
Unfair fall out
When she calls me out so blunt.
Run there and it's an all-out
Brunt of guilt wilting
Jilting back from burly rage,
Surly life, sure of earlier life
Unlocking earlier days were unlucked!
Sucks to be so utterly FUCKED
By such a squirrelly fray,
Karma warmly warning me
'It's on ya' see!'
No escaping ancient crimes,
Played back from time
Remaining in rhymes.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
This wasn't a colder prattle mission,
It's an older battle vision,
Some soldier had it with his division.
A further disturber is the legal fee
For a deserter herded before medieval Queen
Bathory's regal scene.
A distressed entrance fee
Was the recipe for every henchman in her legacy.
Greater gleams, this fader always has his means
So later in the scene: Ahead of me, the crowd rallies.
Instead I'm about the alley.
Dead-set, I'm scouting sadly a poor scalli
For the next tragedy.
Her head and mouth
Are ensnared, no shout.
Thickly bagged and quickly dragged,
Brought to the sickly brig
To be fragged and fridged.
It's just too bad what we all did.
The screams echo hourly.
This scene is mean
But it's the Queen's salary.
A bad explanation?
It's tragic that the real magic
Wasn't bacchanalian like Aleister Crowley.
How was this allowed to be?
What decision made this battle vision
All over like a cattle's mission
Following the herd?
What disturbed soldier fit in
With what history had often
Forgotten. What was written in?
Unpardoned from victory's margins?
Slack entailed blackmail.
Pain doesn't rain flack, it hails!
Clever talent challenged,
Better to remain out of jail.
Trained to tail without folding over,
A scout soldier went over
Plenty of enemy lines and back
So he could sack a hoodrat.
His checkered track record
Was a vast direct stack of wrecks
Attacking where enemies least expect.
He understood what fits to be happening
Within a kidnapping
Quicker than Jack the Ripper's
Lasting crass flings.
Alas, my vast soul charts
Through asshole arts
The deep past and rolls to start.
Ill and tired I desire to be still
But I will listen to victims sickened,
Shrill cries undisguised behind my eyes.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
Wanting to be free,
Taunting sprees haunting me,
Ontological breeze
Mincing my psychology,
Rinsing diabolically.
The best of my head
Is invested in the restless undead,
Bonus japes can only escape
After their onuses are abated.
So I don't play with prayers,
I just spray it.
Unwinding flack crimes
In every backrhyme,
Reminding me vast of the shine,
The slack is mine.
My best contention
Is to invest in redemption
Right there is where bright flares
Of nightmares ensnare me.
Harm came their way
So I'm farming karma today
Alarming you in warnings everyway.
It isn't a convenient genius
To be gritty when what I mean
Is spent in every scene,
Sent in dreams and set to ream.
I might luck out abit you see,
But Christfuck it's shitty
The bright lust so pretty.
Distilling my instinct
So I'm willing to be distinct and ill.
Clever still, never had my fill
Because urgently bad weather
Is currency for my till.
I think being reborn to reform
Free the scorn lately is a shady play
For the creator who made me.
Wonder if he was under haze
Or just rushed and so I got stuck?
Maybe. It's all just crazy
But uplifts me in terse bursts
From being a baby more cursed
Weaned on the horrorverse's
Pierced titties. Nutrition in visions
Slips in every fireburst.
It's the price I have to lift by degrees.
So it's thrice the pity
I can't escape Vice City.
I might lift my head and see
I'm too bright and righteous for it to fit me.
Bewitched by Bathory…
This flirty, nerdy, verbal merc
Trained to mangle berserks
Was chained to handle dirty work!
Kidnap from the past
I hear gasps and muffled screams
Tussling with the Bloody Queen…
Published 29th Jun 2012
| Edited 30th Jun 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
5th Jan 2015 11:23pm
"Fuck discretion! My prose rips chodes." This is a fascinating trip into your past, Loki. Interesting to compare this with my "Bathory's Bath." Yours is a true epic, and a fine job!
