De Sade Poems | Examples


Premium MemberGuaranteed No Characters Were Hurt

Come on champ, do it for the story,
for metaphor and allegory.

     Get away from me.  Are you cracked?
     In all your stories, I get whacked. 

     Give me some space with that cattle prod,
     you frustrated Marquis De Sade.

Oops-a-daisy, there goes your head.
Alas, poor thing, you’re tragically dead.
Categories: de sade, humor,
Form: Couplet

Premium MemberFrom Face To Facade

What used to be my face
    is now just a facade
  Once I was nice
    now I'm the Marquis de Sade

  Please cry no false tears for me
    or say that you've somehow still faith
  Keep it up, and I'll metamorphize
    from the Marquis to Henry the Eighth
Categories: de sade, change, england, evil, murder,
Form: Rhyme


Premium MemberMisfortunes Reign

lilac lethargies
dispatch De Sade disciples
cooing on Justine's
collective erotic pain--
cameo cannibal thirst
Categories: de sade, betrayal, gothic, love hurts,
Form: Tanka

Live At the Opera

i was young
i was broke
i was cold

cold
young
and broke

i didnt need
to fix my
broken
piggie
bank

short on supplies
i'd exercise by
walking at
night a
round
town

where
there i
saw the
marquee
it could've
been de Sade
but instead was

Mozart

i had
twenty
dollars
for 

groceries and
a ticket for
Don Giovanni
was twenty

i lived
off of
that
opera
for a
long
time
Categories: de sade, muse,
Form: I do not know?

Miss Translation

she said it was
an act of god
questioningly i
replied did you
say the Marquis
de Sade

her accent hid
her willingness
to believe so
or believe so
faithfully so
she said

love is the
same which
once again i
said did you
say love is
pain

words were
heard but
aurally were
transferred
from thought
to intent

so we spent hours
talking but talking
not the same for
her since was my
pinch and her OW
was my meow
Categories: de sade, muse,
Form: I do not know?


Enhanced Techniques


Verbal gymnastics 
twist the real meaning of this barbarous truth
To kill is called to sanction,
deliver the package is black ops captured proof
Approval of torture
moves a scared society 911 degrees
to the medieval reprobate melting phase
Blood flowers of a Nazi security horticulture 
gets pruned and propaganda presented as being vitally necessary
By lovers of the philosophy of Marquis de Sade
Enhanced techniques of interrogation
is such a sterile term
Clinical desensitized dark suit pain inquisitors
favor methods of food and sleep deprivation
Give the screamers an amplified sip of electrical sperm,
treat the enemy combatants like ovulated planarian visitors
Torture is not for the squeamish heart ...
Cruel breakers of the body
like wearing the cloaked title of Roman toga civility
Closely check the polygraph chart,
see the shattered souls lay beaten with eyes empty
Classified secrets justify enhanced techniques;
flayed flesh of revenge satiate their bloodlust need,
give the vampire drinkers a full chalice of grapes of wrath plead
Lovers of life hate crucified words that morally bleed
Categories: de sade, dark, pain, perspective, truth,
Form: Narrative

Premium MemberRecipe: Poulet Roti French Style -Le Chant Royal - Instalment 4

RECIPE: "Poulet Roti" French Style - Le Chant Royal (Instalment 4)

(Note: Rhyme scheme of “Le Chant Royal” where capital “E“stands for refrain, thus – Stanza: ababccddedE, Envoi: ddedE)

STANZA III
The idea's to pluck the chicken naked dead
But to keep it alive so long as there's fun
Stick pins and needles all the time on its head
So that when the COQ crows you know the bird's done
Was Marquis de Sade Torquemada's agent
The Socialist Mayor now out on tangent
Wishing spindle glass tower turns ivory
To keep him in power sans democracy
Get henchmen to preach comeuppance damnation 
Tighten screws on chicken spit sans clemency
Now that lame bird can't fly away sans nation

ENVOI
          Vain Socialist pique harks back to idiocy
          Lax morals sport with intellect's papacy
          Skinned and spiked chicken calls for condemnation
          Do Napoléons fear Waterloo or Holy See
          Now that lame bird can't fly away sans nation

(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Categories: de sade, anti bullying, family, father
Form: Ballade

Premium MemberVillanelle: the Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 63

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 63

The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
Poïetics the creative process neither
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

Who has returned to re-possess carcass to let
If ever one there was what does he remember
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret

Which Pharoah still sails to lands unknown in debt
Which Zhong Guo Emperor led clay armies conquer
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

Yi Jing puts most of it down to whims of climate
The old lay their weary bones down by winter
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret

To kill no one first needs bury the hatchet
No Marquis de Sade roughride Justine either
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

Does Death disintegrate essence ultimate
Cult of the Unknown Fear of the Nether
The mystery of Birth holds no great secret
Can Death twin sister of Birth nothing beget

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
Categories: de sade, birth, death, violence,
Form: Villanelle

Premium MemberGods Holy War

Oh! Sleep come claim me for thine own
My mind it wanders far and deep
To distant lands and shores unknown
Far beyond this castle keep

To fight for God on land and tide
To make the heathen understand
My kindred brethren at my side
A christian vow a sword in hand

Their foreign tongues and ritual chants
Oh! Lord they know not what they do
Forgive them Lord their ignorance 
Their demi-gods they falsely woo

God grant me strength to bare the proof
From those that practice to deceive
Sins of the flesh and cloven hoof
Oh! What a tangled web they weave

'Tis only death and death alone 
Will cleanse the soul and purge the mind
As rabid dogs tear flesh from bone
The will of God his axe they grind

The Devils work must ne'er be done
Cross not our path nor bar our way
The Lord our God thy will be done
The Judas tree will rock and sway

No equal nowhere on this earth
Cruel deeds to shame Marquis De Sade
Whilst crimson tides iinfuse the dirt
Our just and holy Lords crusade

For Hell i've seen and made my own
Grant me my Lord my endless sleep
What devils deeds and seeds we've sown
In Christs own name how he must weep
Categories: de sade, abuse, history, judgement, murder,
Form: Rhyme

Marquis De Sade

A wounded heart
An offense of conscience
Inner struggles
Inspirations?
Or in desperation do I dip this pen

Deep within the ink wells
So dreadfully crimson
My declarations
Upon this soaked paper bled

The verses LOUDER and BOLDER do shout!
My injuries from a cruel world
That must be heard!
Every rhyme and every reason
Catapulting out, through my stinging words

My soul melts into ink of quill
Becoming one
A channeling vessel
As the broken heart 
Spills and spills

This is my message of life
Of how I lived!
The tragedy and torture…
Continues written and left unabridged

At the end...an ironic twist
For now, my heart resides in others
And agony lives on
From where before, it could never have existed!
Categories: de sade, angst, history, passion, philosophy,
Form: Free verse

The Kissing Ground

Sophie's sweat 
landscapes
the claret red horizon
thick serum
trickles 
from a Sickroom -
a death ward

where cracked knuckles
spatter the fjords 
moistening the planks;
bathing the laths of anxiety
‘neath 
marquis de sade stumps

Norwegian expressions of death -
agoraphobia
murdering actuality;
the Dance of Life
rapidly burns
as a funeral pyre of Ashes are
seized from
your tribe’s headstone

the stench of brother’s legacy
replaces
a protected breath
and a Dead Mother can 
descry muted 
caterwauls 
between
the Clock and the Bed

the two guardians of quietus
merely exit
this clotted bridge
contemptuously -
in soured and 
staled 

delight
Categories: de sade, dedicationdeath, death,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

On Critiquing Poetry

To critique a poem is a difficult endeavor.
As every poet is unique
Every word you must dismember-

From Dante to De Sade
Each must be taken
Within it’s intended graces-

A poem, is a eulogy of the poets’ mind
Whether it be about bugs
Or the Great Divine

Each taken separately, 
On it’s own terms- 
Some are so surreal
A true  picture never forms.

Do you love Whitman,
But despise Bukowski?
Whatever your pleasure-
Look at a piece for what it is
Individual and from inside
Take care when spitting out prejudices
Take each in stride and realize
The person  from whom the words extend
Are of his own nature and his own transcend.

A. Green
Categories: de sade, on writing and words
Form: Light Verse

Hearsay

Do you vote your mind
Or court your heart
Acquitting party faithful
Whose lies never grow apart

Do you vote for choice
Or for political extortion
Condemning any candidate
Who decries abortion

Do you vote for jobs
Or rally against illegitimate wars
Picketing the freedoms
Of meat-eating, capitalist stores

Do you vote for education
Or for your ideological slant
Burning a child’s future
For an author’s utopian rant

Do you vote for tolerance
Or against an intangible God
Eschewing the zealotry
Of the Marquis de Sade

Do you vote for security
Or against the rule of law
Extolling revolution
Because government has flaws

Do you vote for independence
Or draw your party’s line
Gerrymandering objectivity
For rancor’s incestuous design

Do you vote for healthcare
Or how much you make
Insuring the suffering of patients
Whom doctors won’t take

Do you love America
Or simply love to hate
Voting for the integrity
Of our democratic state
Categories: de sade, introspection, life, philosophy, social,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Touch Quartet 3: Flesh

choreography by de sade
lurid in glass cages
masturbating strobe lit neon
orbit decaying speed.

wholesale supplication
self abusing gratification
starving heroin chic
naked jazz gloss pages

clinical execution
seductive as scalpels
warm as polar ice floes
passionate as styrofoam

loveless bloodless corpses
cold animated fever
acid battery jerks
common denominator appeal

promises to be broken
dreams exsanguinated
lives to be killed
flesh...be...mine
Categories: de sade, imagination, mystery, passion,
Form: Blank verse
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