Curdled Poems - Poems about Curdled

object be silent not signed about take the present it a meaningful moment at that cornered life you scram behind the bent stand she and he hide out for once and for naught a single ounce you got left to sell comin in a center miss perfect deflecting death shirt coats end polish pranks and bank shot calling from my starched abandon lifetimes no skranton big world owners and rulers standard operator error get blues when?...

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so, this is what life is about no use to scream no use to shout this is what life is about the cream floats to the top the top to taste first slaking the thirst of what life is about but the cream is but a whisper the thinnest layer the body yet good is mere staple food and if not used quickly, quickly it curdles and splits knowledge and wits yet...

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Sour Milk Sinister lies Diabolical intent My Slow demise Curdled blood Serenade me with your death rattle Acidic love roaming Inside your wicked soul Acid rain in my raspberry tea No redemption for what cannot be saved Venomous fangs shredding the placenta That makes you human...

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Blood Curdled at The Chilling Quill 3 The night is too quiet for breathing The faces form Swelling from the pitch oily; floats Mouthless screaming Into monstrous caverns Where fang-ed teeth stalactite On slavering tongues Cold suffocation jabs pillowed rocks Deep into racing erratic heart And clamours the air on fingers bent With scratches awake on a coffin lid The weight of movement To slow to lift Raise...

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Blood Curdled at The Chilling Quill 2 And when the darkness falls What sleep will there be Save in dire dreams The nightmare murder moves closer On prickling skin Balking and gagging Left to the suffocation of sheets And dripping sweat When the darkness falls Sleep there will be But hunted on wide rimmed starings On a chill pitch glue blackness Shuffle tarot card footsteps Only the skeleton...

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Blood Curdled at The Chilling Quill Sanctuary I prayed Feet stumbling at a wet dank alter Crumbled brick the skeletal shell Of ancient cathedral Safety Mausoleum in the gloom of battered drips Their ghostly quill of written blood And zombie skins of parchment Write their movement On the clammy tips of sweat Don’t even breathe As the screaming prickling hairs stand stiff As the chilling curdled down...

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