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Below is the poem entitled Throes which was written by poet Jimmy Brouwers. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Titbit scars to feed emotions crimson;
In Her gloomy heart by her wet season.
As Her solstice endorses a greasing red,
She revels off a goad instead...

To each bliss cusp she gladly deflowers,
I cavort rue to each rose's hour;
As fingertips writhe in snow-white flesh
the sate of Love's cappella caress...

My emotions ascend to a God with black wings,
And soon this soul taken from pentacle rings.

But first I am descending before Her throne,
Her chest still racks that abyssal stone!
Prurient crucifixion of an annulled witch hunt.
Nascent Shangri to Her mire c*nt.

Her emotions strong enough to splendour fires,
This libertine forges Her foreplay desires.
Taken of the pulpit by a tyrant crevasse,
Splay out on an Oratory's cerise glass.

As she leers like the silver Moon...

I sprawl to Her with greatest tempt,
Only for me to feel contempt!
I scream ''You are my salvator'' as,
Blood pours where my sanguinary blade caress...

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  1. Date: 1/29/2015 8:11:00 PM
    "As she leers like the silver Moon..." Very very fascinating... That last stanza is shockingly powerful...these lines are my favorite:"To each bliss cusp she gladly deflowers, I cavort rue to each rose's hour;" -You are a great poet... I can't wait to read more of your work. It is something very new to me. Always, Laura

  1. Date: 11/4/2013 10:42:00 AM
    You definitely have a distinctive voice, that's for sure, and you're not going to be everyone's proverbial "cup of tea"; I certainly am not, and have gotten used to the idea. Not having universal appeal sets us apart from the rest of the sheep. I like how you are unafraid to "go there". Most people don't want to probe the dark side of their psyche so I applaud you for doing that. I like your word structure and penchant for older, more obscure words. I love the macabre feeling of your pieces.