Posts Tagged ‘skin’

 

winona-fasinfrankvintagecom

I remember you skin on skin
That time when I took you from behind
And you said ‘fuck harder’
But now you’re gone
Moved on
And I am alone
And soaked in memories
From the wank bank
I am still eternally grateful
To you
For my most successful relationship
Which wasn’t really that successful
As I was taking too many drugs
And running amuck

peoplewithoutfaces

People without faces
Blank walls of skin interrogating my rickshaw brain
Photo-flash of blood-rivers
Pus oozes from under a scab
Madness tastes like chocolate
Howl against the moonlight sensuously senselessly
Blue-white bloated corpses floating in stagnant water
Open eyes, blank and dumb, stare into infinity

People without faces
Paranoia seeps under the door and over the floor
Skeletal hand on my shoulder squeezes
I’ve got the fear
Atmosphere poisoned and festering
No way to realign my brain-cells into some orderly pattern
Drowning in terror
Too many crazy moons
Watch out Amygdala!
Satan lurks with asylum eyes, horns of brass and teeth like scalpels
A shark waiting to devour souls

People without faces
Icicles of bone
Piles of skulls
Crackle of schizo-affectation
Crinkled miasma in an empty room
Inch deep dust in a crypt
Fester, fester further down the road to death

flower

picture by Georgia O’Keefe

Cabalistic carbuncles fester in skin
Subtle essences impregnate the moment
Mental metal moribund musings
On existential angst
Dead density of weight
Of lonely love sinks
Eyes go white
No pupils
Fangs in flesh
Blood runs like water
Vaginas open like flowers
Flowers open like vaginas
Crackle of dried flesh
Skeletal schemes to steal Christmas
Broken traditions
Lugubrious laconic lies
To bamboozle and befuddle
Suburban minds
Thousands of people only doing their jobs
Making a meaning from endless ends
Absorbing mortgages that last forever
Here’s a yellow sticker on your car
Here’s a five hundred dollar fine
Here’s a dead dog full of maggots
Where’s the dope?

underwater

Five fathoms down she sprays into the wound
Thrice blessed by intimate hints of soul decay
Because she doesn’t even know the way
To crackle in the moonlight with no sound

Five fathoms down she spits upon the wound
The wound that wondered what to do on Wednesday
Blessed sentiment that seeped through cracks
And laid a holy woman on her back

Five fathoms down she spews into the wound
So poisoning oil will spread through festering flesh
And soon become entangled in a mesh
That whistles apathy with flagrant wind

Five fathoms down she stabs into the wound
Leaves green contusions all over the skull
Knocks down the trees that bend towards the dawn
Then sweeps into a dream of sex and sin

Five fathoms down she fists into the wound
Breathing skin and bestial wailing shrieks
Into misogynist ears of corpulent Lords
Who mutter, grumble, spit and play the chords
Of bigotry and bastardry abroad

Skin

Posted: December 5, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

nude
mustard miasma on tortured toast
dead-letter diagrams of esoteric schemes
over-turn the apple-cart all over Applecross

cocktail linen on the dining-room table
a door shuts out nothing
I like every female skin well

I dream of tickling their bones and sweetening their snatches
My guilt-stricken hand reaches out and strokes their nipples
With peanut-crunching glee

Annihilate every rational thought not focussed on sensual optimism
Exterminate hectic lonely nights of self-love and weeping
To be loved is a precious and erratic blessing
Hold on to it
Breathe in
Then let it go
Breathe out