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Literature Text
A man on the ice in the snow on the worms
Empty handed with empty pockets, and looking for a reason to get up.
A backstabber with bad aim and scars down his spine;
His naivety betrays him.
The falling flakes tickle the spotlight bestowed upon him
By a rusty light pole who just stood there watching
When another man with shadows in his eyes
And a medical bill on his kitchen counter
Stinking of stale whiskey and in need of a cigarette
Knocked the backstabber down with the blade of a sticky pocketknife
Back-story of this carcass:
A spelling trophy in 3rd grade and a broken heart in 10th
No children to miss him, and no wife to leave him
A macaroni picture on his fridge;
From Tommy next door
To Mister Nice Guy
Right next to last Halloween's uneaten candy
Maybe it's better this way
His eyes shut with a bitter smile
Empty handed with empty pockets, and looking for a reason to get up.
A backstabber with bad aim and scars down his spine;
His naivety betrays him.
The falling flakes tickle the spotlight bestowed upon him
By a rusty light pole who just stood there watching
When another man with shadows in his eyes
And a medical bill on his kitchen counter
Stinking of stale whiskey and in need of a cigarette
Knocked the backstabber down with the blade of a sticky pocketknife
Back-story of this carcass:
A spelling trophy in 3rd grade and a broken heart in 10th
No children to miss him, and no wife to leave him
A macaroni picture on his fridge;
From Tommy next door
To Mister Nice Guy
Right next to last Halloween's uneaten candy
Maybe it's better this way
His eyes shut with a bitter smile
Literature
Deletion
I am the deep silent rage
Of deletion itself
Dare not speak my true name
Or unleash chaos
Upon your realm
I will awaken however
Upon your call
Utter the forbidden speakings
And I shall obey
And erase it all
I will not rest
My essence will pulsate
Until your request is complete
I will carry out your word
I will leave no star still lit
So dare not speak my true name
If you care for all that exists
Literature
cycle.
(birth.)
i walk home, crisp shoelaces, bloodied nose
middle of autumn, frothing at the mouth
kids took summer skin too far, brought on apocalypse
i tell myself it will be over soon, wintertime freckles
will be here
incensed
(childhood.)
stove milk and delicate murmurs
the technicolor alphabet teaches itself
purple bowls with animal faces
hospital bracelets around tiny wrists
won’t come loose
mama
(adolescence.)
the clouds are gasoline, wisps of gin, addicted
there is vomit on the floor, new candy sores
sky is burning, orange with hungry flame, vying
i don’t know who to talk to, crying
let me go
alive
(adulthood.)
doctor
Literature
La fantasma
Es la voz que habla en mi mente,
The voice that talks in my head...
Se enchansa por mis pensamientos,
It expands throughout my thoughts...
Siempre sabe lo qué estoy pensado,
I always know what she's thinking...
I promise you that it is about to get me,
No soy la fantasma - soy ella...
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A story of a dying man- The first in a series of poems.
Feel free to check out my other work:
For more of my writing: www.facebook.com/HanaKPoetry
Feel free to check out my other work:
Red Riding Hood's CabaretA dancing girl with fiery hair,
Twirling smoke around her finger
Dances in darkness for a sea of howling wolves
Unclothed, her emptiness is put on stage
To burn in the spotlight
As claws scratch at the floor
She plucks a hot cigarette from one of the fingers
Puts it to her lips and takes a warm sultry drag
"Look, but don't touch" she mutters,
Stepping just close enough for a claw to rip into her thigh
And she whispers into the snarling crowd
"What more do you want?"
as her hips and crimson lips rock smoothly and tempt softly
And while her legs move, her eyes dance and smile,
Unsolvable mazes of golden brown for irises.
A subtle wink giv
Secondhand MoonlightA dingy harem, scattered with junkies,
Stinking of lust and dusty Forget-Me-Nots
A black-veiled, crimson-lipped beauty
Night-haired and spacey-eyed
Purple painted nails laced with cigarette smoke
And a stubby cigarette laced with moonlight
Skulks to my side and burns a hand on my thigh
Age is creeping up her legs
And her panties smell of other men
And a bold-faced tattoo of last month's rent
Is stamped across her feverish forehead
Paper-thin desperation and two mouths to feed with a top hat on top
But the champagne tastes like honey and smells like jazz
You want to dance, Baby Girl?
So I jive with the Shadows and their Whores
Choking o
Blackfish, GoldfishBlackfish, void of ocean's blue
Where blindness grants immortal view
Of infinite, crisp, and cryptic hues
Your unseeing roars and blissful mews
Saturation sanded away
Your color bleached with ebony
And though your veins are void of blood,
The darkness gives you room to breathe
Goldfish dying in the sun
Glamour asphyxiates your lungs
Your soul flails through hot molten gold
Gasping in your glowing bowl
And though you croak with no real chance,
You shine on still and drown in light
To dance your glitz in human hands
Until you savor Blackfish's night
Bar-Coded FacesBar-coded faces stare caustically through me
Pre-Packaged, Pre-Sliced,
Freeze-Dried, Vacuum-Packed,
And Icy-Hearted
No warmth in their sterile stares
And no life in their whirring joints
Just zooming eyes, cuddly as lasers
Mechanically measuring my metallic memories
Pointing at every individualized birthmark on my cheek
And every eyelash that is not mascara-laiden
Staring at the bilious blemishes
And cantankerous defects
Peeping down my fresh-squeezed legs
Calculating what about me needs to change
To be more of the shameful same
To earn the hollow Bar-Code on my face
For more of my writing: www.facebook.com/HanaKPoetry
© 2013 - 2024 Emerald-Alexandria
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