| I must create a system or be enslaved by another mans; I will not reason and compare: my business is to create. ~ William Blake |


MarrowI have filled myself to the brim with syllables. Constructed poems out of sparse emotion, grasped for something to fill the gaps. My taxidermist hands, tapped, tapped, tappedMarrow
and here I thought there was nothing. No space between words in which I could exist. My feelings were plagiarised,
colours water washed into oblivion. But you, that striking red that won't fade, grips and sucks the marrow of my bones
and I am grateful, to have those teeth run across me. To be devoured in countless ways. I would suffer those little deaths  
Ivy

PerishThere is no life here.Perish
A face smeared to ashes can no longer smile or talk.
There'll be no theatrical wail from behind the curtain.
Fire doesn't harm death. The seizures it inspires in the living are laughable. How we burn in place of the victim. Imagine our skin cracking under the
weight of flame, voyeurs of agony.
No, there is no life here. Only an audience who won't rest until your organs are scorched constellations, burnt into the architecture of your bones.


The Punctuations of LifeDeath is a definite period. Those who come after are colons: Brief are the struggles when met with commas, Yet illness and age, the half points, our semicolons; Thereafter, follows last words ending with ellipsiss . . . Here are mine, Whatever love I left behind is no word or color of mine, Nor shall it mock whatever blood I may have shed Or upon the sentence it came into my head . . .The Punctuations of Life
| 32%
27%
13%
8%
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1%
0%
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Comments? suggestions?
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Outreaching the closest left side the city sleeps beneath me
I'm aghast...
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Smite those who wrong you and strike with a blade of vengence!
Please help! critiques?!(even though im not a subscriber)
Comments on how to improve?
[link]
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Outreaching the closest left side the city sleeps beneath me
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Outreaching the closest left side the city sleeps beneath me
I look forward to seeing more poetry from you, as your work is very interesting and superb!
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"A wise man who strokes his goatee grows wiser; and one who cuts it strokes less, lacking sharpness!"
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doommetal-club [link]
Monolith Verses [link]
ImpureDirge Spirituality Club [link]
A life not even lived becomes a ceaseless wake
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doommetal-club [link]
Monolith Verses [link]
ImpureDirge Spirituality Club [link]
A life not even lived becomes a ceaseless wake
Your Poetry to me is beyond superb -- even if there is a hint of error in some of them.
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"A wise man who strokes his goatee grows wiser; and one who cuts it strokes less, lacking sharpness!"
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