i kinda shocked myself with this one.....writting like this, i MUST have underlying issues i'm unaware of. Sets of Five It's burning red between your thighs Ignore the pain and close your eyes That tear stained face, it makes me laugh... Between your knees, i see the graft Baby's head warped with decay, Tormented life is on display. Locked away inside a drawer, (The key is lost beneath the floor) Ten little fingers and ten little toes, Sets of five in four different rows. On the tips are growing nails And open palm of maggots and snails. Small girl inside gazed with a blank stare Worms on her face, invading her hair. Her skin is shrinking, she's aging horribly The sin's taking over- it's inevitability. Throw yourself down flights of stairs Sell your soul, taint your prayers. It's over now, escaped from far The baby's safe now, inside the jar.
hahahaha, you're psychotic!!!!! kidding, i love it...i really do. but i like twisted, warped stuff like this!!! i told you you're really talented!!!
screw all you hippies, i actually really like this one. next time i'll try to write about how my life sucks and how i cut myself and bleed all over my pillows every night. maybe that will make me a k-e-w-l poet.
This was vast in its scope of the essential feminine. From lover, to mother, to child, to crone. What is left but dreamer and devotee, yet, you covered those too. The primary focus seems to be birth, and death, yet, this quoted gem is a mystery. Perhaps it will be clear as more of the suffering lifts and we enter the garden, anew.
dude, terrific poem. i loved everything about it. it inspired me to write about maggots. h aha. WHO KNEW MAGGOTS WERE POETIC?! you rock!
