The stench of shame fills the air
Tears fallen choked her words
Laying in a pool of red
Her massa had stolen her innocence
Bruises decorated her already scarred flesh
A mark of ownership
A sinister smirk sends shivers
As the white man admires his coloured canvas
Pride engulfs him
Watching her struggle against the shackles
Her screams silenced by his hands around her neck
As he brutally ravages her again and again
He whips his initials onto her untouched back
As a reminder that he also owns her flesh
She had no autonomy left
Her insides felt dirty, poisoned by the white man's lack of mercy
With every violation her grip on hope was slipping
Until she fell into a numbness unending
A shell of who she was
She was forced into a life of silence
Held captive by the punishment of violence
That day a lesson was taught on how to live a life on mute
This life is a fierce battlefield,
Little did I know before my birth,
My weapons should have been better honed,
So no earthly force could conquer me.
Friends I made while I was nobody,
Turned to foes when I sought to be somebody,
Those I loved with all my heart and soul
Blew pepper in my eyes when vision blurred.
Deceit comes robed in sheep's clothing,
But in its mouth lie poisonous fangs,
Mental torture is their specialty –
They wield it without a flicker of remorse.
When I wept from the pains they inflicted,
They dried my tears with clean handkerchiefs,
Their smiles conceal their bitter hearts,
Veiled in peace, their souls steeped in a vile bile.
Why were some people made just to hate?
They rejoice when they see their friends cry,
They are logs happier as stumbling blocks.
Than as bridges across a stormy river.
Had I come with my own weapons,
Their jugular would have been severed
To drain their wickedness till dry,
To purge their hearts of bitterness till empty,
And plant in their minds true love to grow.
Khaled was a bodybuilding champ in Iran
A photo shows a smiling and very strong man
Then in Evin Prison, at the mercy of nasty folk
His spine fractured, kidneys failed, heart was harmed, leg was broke.
Evin is a bad place, 113 degrees and no A.C.
I'm sure you can think of better places to be
One woman tells us solitary had no toilet or bed
4 months there then 400 days before she learned if she'd be dead.
Israel destroyed the Evin Prison gate
Then Trump called for cease fire, peace could not wait
I guess he didn't want to be dragged into a "forever war"
But for Evin's prisoners, Iran will close that door.
From the "dungeons of oppression" Khaled sent out a cry
He said "freedom of speech and human rights here are a big lie
But most Westerners know that. It's just "what can we do?"
Until they come for us for their big plans include us too.
Black eyes smile down, a frown
The voices in my head of silent sound
Live weird connected without ground
Look around at all the nothing I've found
Eyes tired unfocused and uninspired
Teeth pulling pliers torture tools for hire
Liars, so many liars, flash flooded fires
The leper that was so very admired
Eyes closed, on the back of eyelids now froze
The red rose of death fills my nose
The list grows all enemies and foes
Ten fingers, two hand, unaccountable toes
I guess this is just how it goes... it goes...
their teenage teacher—they twisted to torture them ten terrible times
Machine gun heart riddled with shades of grey.
A mind once sharpened by your own forked tongue.
Lovers' lips part with rumbles of a cannon.
Dew licked satin sheets - the highway to carnal desire.
Silhouettes of freshly washed skin dance in the night.
Passion rising like the souls of the departed.
Where do you sleep after your thirst is quenched?
Where do you go when your high knows no bounds?
Unfiltered needs not being met;
A fire put out before the gasoline burns off.
Passionate nights followed by cool seduction.
A waterfall of your essence coating my tongue.
Decisions made in a moment of yearning.
Your lack of understanding - my constant battle.
Why can't you listen instead of just hear?
I will free my enslaved exuberance,
since you can't be bothered.
Blow out the candle and climb into bed.
One of these days you'll get what you want.
And one of these days I'll learn that I won't.
The skin remembers, even when the mind tries to forget
Scars etched deeper than bone, a roadmap of agony
They say time heals all wounds, they lie
Time only buries them deeper under the layer of lies
I used to feel joy and sorrow, life danced with empathy
Now? A hollow echo in a vacant music hall
Hope, they ripped it out, tendril by bleeding tendril
Left a barren landscape, scorched earth where nothing grows
Callous they call me, emotionless, a monster forged in fire
They don't see the demons I carry or the ghost at my side
They see the wreckage of the person I once was
Before the darkness claimed me, before all hope died
This echo resounding with the ghost of all my screams
All that I still try to bury in the darkest part of my soul
Only the screams refuse to stay buried, pushing daisies
Ones that are already wilted and dead as they rise
Sadly it mimics us, sadly I am dead yet still alive
In search of the light, a light I know will never shine
Shadows linger like tendrils in my mind
Nobody escapes the fingers of death
Rooted in your soul, planted in your being
Seeing is not always believing, it's deceiving
Captured like a picture, photo of the truth
Manipulated into reality that lies the proof
The entity behind the scenes, conspiring
Life lived unowned, the robot is tiring
Shadows never shade, shadows of your grave
The tendrils of evil are so well misbehaved
And nothing is all you can do...
i was always waiting to say
i have loved you ever since
you have spoken my name
and in this entire world
there was just one “you and i”
you and i existed beautifully enough
and that itself gives me warmth
because in a time on Earth
someone had me in their heart
i want you to never forget that
my one and only
there will come a day
the very day
where you won’t love me
not a single day more
not a single day more
Melted in the background of the forefront of my mind
Thinking about all of the thoughts I've left far behind
Now everything within my head seems so very intertwined
The asterisk by the questions of answers I'll never find
Interference is what confuses my once solid mental state
Fear is the illusion that my enemies illustrate
Unbalanced in tortured abuses that echo and reverberate
Evidence seems inconclusive but not open for debate
Inhumane acts to humanity just a subject to be tested
Mind raped in profanity every part they have molested
Actions of complete insanity why was I even selected
The power of my anatomy has been tortured and arrested
V2K, silent sound, no touch torture, gang stalked target
How to fight those who always walk on Blood Red Carpet
bmdavey@10/6/24
I need a fix and it is so strange
This addiction to poetry is a stain
Like a birthmark on my rainbow brain
Can't shake it off for it is engrained
I hear white word and it leopard leaps
Into violet verse singing screaming
It is my teal torture it is my purple peace
Poetry as affliction is a big part of me
For you who fund
our pain and grief
Zzzzz is sleep
For us
Zzzzzz is certain death
we are bombed because you sleep
The silence
a massacre unfolding
Zionists rejoicing
"Who Am I"
Voices in my head the unheard of
They mimic, they pester, they lie
All to just torture my mind
Who Am I...
Who Am I...
I question I can no longer answer
They've erased Me, Myself and I
Changed into the hopeless, heartless, unkind
Who Am I...
Who Am I...
Someone now just a faint memory
Lost somewhere forever but did I die
Did I turn tail with yellow spine
Who Am I...
Who Am I...
From the torture cocoon to robotic host
Manipulated, Influenced, Punished but why?
They see through my eyes while I'm blind
Who Am I...
Who Am I...
Definitely not this important of a man
Given mental beatings if I try...to defy...
The skin of their evil, zombified defined
Who Am I...
Who Am I...
Twenty-four hours every single day
Twenty-four hours every single night
Twenty-four hours of a continual tortured mind
Who Am I...
Who Am I...
Because I do not even exist anymore
bmdavey@ 09/09/24
Long overdue attempt at sleep -counting popcorn on ceiling
A brace on the leg
what an inconvenience
and loss of good leg
(After having a knee surgery)
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