You stab at my manufactured beatless heart,
and tear off my tattered burlap textile.
Puncturing the weakened breath from my tight lungs.
To you, I’m just a naked doll’s unsexed part,
while enduring revenge pain for your feigned love.
Taking mock death with a bent smile from the start.
Your list grows longer, my devotion stays true.
Our creativeness shown like expensive art.
Sharp pins and needles make me feel worthwhile,
from the tight breath puncturing my weakened lungs.
Us two, hand-in-hand, this world we must depart.
Contest Name: A New Abracadabra Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor Name: Emile Pinet
Style: Rhyme (Abracadabra)
Date: April 14, 2021
Categories:
voodooed, abuse, dark, devotion, gothic,
Form: Rhyme
A hot tongue, voodooed soul.
Determined, a small and nameless bird.
My teeth, my teeth too shy for bones,
My words too old for stones.
My spine lights for batten eye,
a half-shoulder caramelling othercold.
Spit thick.
Mouths on your hands,
they go to party icing, they chew their meat,
Carry thin sticks.
Fishy minds swished in dishwaters
Spooned from each sea.
O, brainy Atlases.
How you hold your lumpy lints,
your tumbleweeds wet wares
of women sipping the night,
hair chewed as treegums.
I'm the night train.
Chuff-chuffing you away, my tender bump!
We leave a trail a sigh.
We feed the baby birdie beaks open wide
as we sail by.
We toss gold like rice and diamond,
puddled skipping pebbles.
But you,
you've made me a ring of brick.
You've made me a house
of the best styrofoam.
Categories:
voodooed, adventure, humor, love, nonsense,
Form: I do not know?
It’s all about you..!
Life, I savvy is a race.. a race that’s oblivious of man’s emotions..
One that blind’s folks, instill’s envy, loathe, malevolence..
A charismatic force that has trounced humanity..
A race that’s voodooed mankind into varmints..
A vicious circle that man seems infatuated with..
But…
What puzzles me are the words..
“Individuality, Identity, Self”
Are they mere words for a tête-à-tête???
They seem like the words long forgotten..
They seem like a veil, a camouflage..
Or
Are they a vouge, a make - believe???
If only…
Man would realise, the race is not about
…
It’s all about you..!
Categories:
voodooed, life,
Form: Free verse