A Whisper in Devil's Ear
Satan deceitful innermost mean thoughts
Decaying fungi influence left rots.
Even with the threat, soul can't stop smiling
Feel of deceit and actions beguiling.
Deep breath and release of known temptation
The mind lure images grow creation.
Self-knowing even if the mortal knows
the outcome, Satan just turns up its nose.
Whisper in Devil's Ear precarious
Possession rash acts, temerarious.
These ragged shards of breath, catching in my lungs with grasping fingers of jagged glass
Howling tormented wolves in my mind, clawing and shredding the last remnants of the last
Desperate attempts to live, temerarious in the quest to quench their thirst with blood
Monsters lurk in the shadows of my eyes, hungry for my conscious suffering
No rest, no peace, no sleep for sinners, servants to a greater ill, mindless revolutions of pain
Spinning endlessly in space, reaching for a cold and distant sun without the light of lies
A frozen, broken waste stretches in the expanse of my eyes, terror stalking ceaselessly
In every hidden juncture of the labyrinth of my mind, dark embodiments of hatred, shame, and anger
My eyelids are weighted, crusted in the sands of the blazing desert of my soul
Scraping away my retina with every blink, gasp, choke for air, smothering and breathless
Into infinity I carry loneliness, alone, unwept, unsung, swept into the vast waters of time
Drowning in the enormity of insignificance I wait, sleepless.
felony figs feigning
pulpy punctured probity
mystic mist moaning
purpled eyes receding
damped desire drooping
salient severity scrunching
two temerarious Varmints -
callous ensconced embroidery
skins sans salmagundi
lusty leery lurching -
atuned atmosphere aiding
cranky coup clustering
chaetophorous Chipmunk saw,
pronto pram's metamorphose.
19:11:29:05:53
Constructing Catacombs
Desirous death, a submersed breath, the walls in a carious crumble
Living life, a surgical serrate strife, as we stand surreal and stumble
Baneful blood, a feverous flood, the temerarious towers will tumble
Terranean tears, fertile fermenting fears, a famished fatalistic fungal
Corpses mounting high, Angels in the sky, reuniting dead and divine
Perpetual praying, love’s lost laying, as we build their sacred shrine
For we question why, we deceitfully die, within the abortifacient vine
Blue clouds of clay, casually chip away, as the minstrels drink their wine
The new Babylon, do we belong, beyond death's door is still unknown
Faith be quick, do we get to pick, a heaven or hell that we have sewn
Odious obstruction, of deaths destruction, mankind comes to mourn
Caught in oblivion, a denunciative delirium, and thus we are reborn.
Nov.08.2017
PREMIERE CONTEST NO 110
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Love’s oft audacious and temerarious,
presumptuously daring, yet close to heart.
An adventurous, although precarious
journey, of self-discovery from the start.
Our attempts at love can be hilarious
for at times, we put the horse behind the cart.
But our egos soon learn honesty is best,
for to experience love, hearts must feel blessed.
(Rispetto)
8/16/2017
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