we watch red petals on a couch fall
pistils are blood cells raw opened
falling on white linen watching
grey from wear and tears
our bangles shatter shy shiver
eating opened figs red
S
LICED
knifed you one loaf for eight
near and far you are my star
crazed or tranquil polishing brass
oceans with oil spills rush ship hull
fish dying as gills ooze dna flying
king then peasant or poet, know it !
weaving words regret and regress
how you escape depths, mate of slate
where Persephone eats ocean peaches
the fish are tuna, mackerel and yellowtail
sailors break their bread on rope deck
I watch enthralled from hoping shore
shore and red petals merge with urge
blood cells bright as fire roaring
slaves washing linen at river snoring
tears from stratus clouds dropping bangles
figs fat, ready for pudding angles
we will slice it with your sailor’s knife
g o
BB
LE
IT
UP __________
Lots of people speak in slang
It's just a normal thing
No rules of grammar apply
Just let your words fly
Words are sliced and diced
Many times, syllables are spliced
There's 'bestie' and 'baddie.'
Then there's 'daddy'.
Sometimes things are 'dope'
Some may say others are 'woke'
If you are said to be swole
You're just a muscular bloke
She believed in love at first sight
was deluded and double-crossed
one more time put her heart on the line
everything she once had now is lost
never knew no one who'd dissemble and lie
stab her in the back as he looked her in the eye
made the mistake of giving him her trust
now she's all beat up broke down battered and bust
she who had the faith love conquers all
was duped deceived taken for a ride
if she knew then all she knows now
there'd be no heartbreak she'd be dry-eyed
what a charmer come to no harmer
he enticed her then sliced and diced her
he's a two-timing four-flushing freak
if anyone ever was the perfect portrayal of one
living on a diet of deception and betrayal
he's a true Casanova a real Don Juan
An onion had it's day in court.
It sliced and diced a false report.
Now when this onion starts to speak,
it's oozing mold begins to leak.
This onion's spoiled, so bruised and brown.
No other onion wants him around..
Well what's it like being like this
come out the oven soft all of grain
being cut open for preparation
all part of the cycle well keeps one sane
Now what's next stage in the process?
will we be toasted or plain bread
then there's that big cutting knife
to make us sliced this I dread
We have to be individually filled
making us packed between each slice
with meat, cheese, salad the lot
then each given a selling price
Now it's a waiting game
who will buy us we will see
their big mouth to munch us up
we've no choice but to agree
Now we won't tell anymore
keep you safe from any detail
you don't want to get upset
just wait you might go stale!
@poetgord
SLICED
room...
lousy with loosely
dissected words
spliced and sliced
lemon and lime
sipped then slipped
images of cutting
edge goblets
of note
bloom
budding fruits fall
fears and tears
apples and pears
float through air
a soul shifting
pane of ice
cold write
plume
quill limped spirit
dulled and quelled
dates and grapes
dripping crimson
white page red
pain so warm
peeling
layers of flesh
forbidden fruit
start afresh
death diced
clean sliced
© Kim van Breda—30 October 2015
cutting ice
kissed in darkness
as sun falls
into the horizon
the light
melts down
into darkness
light of my world
slowly vanished
no longer warm
in the sun
when you smile
i take one's head
outside it's shell
looking at a world
in the reality
of it all
in clouds
whispers out softly
As I slip into your velvety sweetness...
I feel my life feathering into yours
...we are one in an instant
We can not be separated any more
You will pour out if I'm emptied
I will remain inside you
our essence has mingled
your razored love slides down my weakness
I vividly remember the pools of blood on the floor
the soul, once mine, standing in the door
the Pain, the scars, the blood falling drip by drip
my teeth carving their way into my bottom lip
the razor to my vanity
unleashing my insanity
my pride, once strong, diminishing in the blink of an eye
my pride, now gone, weeping as it waved goodbye
the floor, the walls, the bed drenched in crimson red
10:43, the time my ego's pronounced dead
crying, yearning for salvation
being clenched tightly in the arms of desolation
stains of blood repeating in my mind
the vision of my arrogance leaving me behind
my pride, once a god, a messiah with no stutter
slicing itself with the edge of a box cutter
in my broken dream
shards pierce the darkness inside
letting all light in
~~
Just learning Haiku
so please be gentle lol
Take the razor
Slice so fast
That it's more than 23
It burns
It stings
Suck it up you big baby
And then do it again
It hurts so bad I cry
But then stop
And say grow up
Then I slice some more. . .
This is a true story I sliced my arm over 52 time in one setting
On did this November 26, 2008 At 10:16pm
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