Chronic Esacapist (aquarium_dreams) wrote in poets_working,
Chronic Esacapist

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Lots o poems

I know it's a lot but I'd really appreciate critique.


What you give me
Is golden
Though you see only lead in your hands
You smooth honey over me
To soften my jagged discontentment
And sooth my tantrums
Your caressing hands calm me
The wild-eyed fury I cradle
The indignation of the unavenged
Is lost in the softness of your touch
Sweet murmurs of shadows
Grown long and languid
As your heart brushes your ribs
Pressing up against them obscenely
To send electric shivers through your veins
It is found in filth
But we have made it pure
Made it shining
Like dew on delicate spider silk
The taste of sweat on your skin
I am filled with such tension and trembling
You could play me like an instrument
Oh what music we’d make


As one hand claps

The other slaps

The two faced grin

One mouth is telling

And one mouth is holding it in

The left’s teeth are sharp

The right’s words are sweet

The left knows the steps

Right has two left feet

One face winks

The other just blatantly stares

One mind thinks

The other sits back and despairs

She means you well

If she could she’d take all that you’ve got

Yet still you see

She adores you more likely than not


Sing me
Swing me
Sweep me
Off my feet
Meet me
By the beach
What you teach
See me
Stars form bars to hold us in
I will infiltrate your skin
Mix our blood and relish sin
Sleep on clouds of spun poison
Wake and do it all again
The cradle (wake the baby)
Like whir-click-whir
On waves
The spray
Settles salty on my face
I close my eyes
It’s you I taste
I’m swimming in-between
Blue-grey and endless dreams
No more rag dolls
Worn at the seams
Just whale songs
And fish with wings.


I wish I was
pretty or original, it hurts more
he wouldn't be glad to see me in the morning...
I kissed you: what a silly boy

He ruins my life

I try not to think to much about it.
she's real and there's nothing I can do about it.
I've felt sick all day, I think to much about it.

run away to south america
Never: you can never find it
I had a heart attack and died

In another dream
he's better pulling the strings
I am wrong, I have been wrong
mutual mental masturbation (Deliberate deceptiveness in behavior or speech)
the metal mask that hides their eyes and keeps the blood from spilling
I find myself lacking in words


I burn the feathers that fall out of place

And their ashes get smeared on your face

While her skeleton’s chained to your bed

She took so long to realize she’s dead

Foul maggots will sully your sheets

And fair witches will burn in the streets

Send them screaming into the wastelands

At least they’re out of the reach of your hands

Monster I could be cut by your smile

Your cruel words leave me choking on bile

You left stains where you touched me before

But you won’t make me into your whore

You have dirtied the white wings of angels

Left traps meant to break bruise and strangle

But don’t gloat yet, so safe and so sound

For what goes around will soon come around


Can’t stop tonguing the wound in my cheek
Spent the day in useless chatter
Vague circles, curlicues meant to entice you
Cast a mask from your face and wore it to seduce you
Wore the glass slippers and tried to emulate her
Or at least to gain some notion of her power
What makes her real
What makes her twirl and burn like some magnificent angel in your mind’s eye


I lay naked on a dirt floor bound with ropes of pearls
And laughed as the rats made nests in my hair.

What do you think?
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