whisperingquill

No Second Whispers



I.

 

 

I cut out your inner leviathan
transferring glassy grains
of my tyrannical
auric blasphemy,

another grinning dybbuk
licking sulfuric embellishments
castrated from your hierarchy
of disheveled grace-

save your pristine face
from an onslaught
of Arcadian sacramental waste
dripping inner-dimensional peccadillos.

 

 

II.

 

I cleanse,

my temple of torture
with the swarthy glint
of tainted diamonds...

seeping from carcinoma capillaries
face-fucking gluttonous pits
who yearn too devour
my flammable seed;

ahhhhh.....

to delve and dine
on illustrious greed,

my little queen bee~

pollinate infinite chaos
with rubicon burps
of Gehenna manna
travesties,

as I eat your simper
while you....wink at me.

 

 

III.

 

 

A Arc de Sant Martí,

bleeds into faux dreams
of broken banshees
who have yet to breathe
betwixt the reed of a scream;

stinging trickled bleats
that fall from snickers
of a hermaphroditic leech....

wear this sin as a clumpy pearly
glob of rambunctious little djinn's,

I leapt to my death
before I came inside
her velvet mausoleum;

that place wear rogue blips
peek through slimy lips
delivered as another cloned
Erewhon rib
into this commode
of avarice predilection-

flushed through sooty grins.

Come back again?

 

IV.

 

 

Fuck that,

I'll rack and decapitate my hubris
for trying to latch on a pipe chimera
that cataracts the golden rule
concordat.....

christened as a walking tomb,

that we all bloom~

when we help the wrong hominoid
climb rungs on a ladder fillet the seriate
hatching fusiform chatter;

still......stung as a sprung expunged
parrot of a mimicry shadow brigade

no depth rests in pallid flesh-

when they become just another harbinger~

scratching the scrotum
of comatose stars.

 

Copyright ©2019
WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods,
without the prior written consent
of the author or publisher.
All my poetry is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),WhisperingQuill.

 

Comments3

  • sylviasearcher

    Sociopolitical yet highly sexualised? I guess it’s the same thing.

    I could feel a bad desire being fed and then shamed.

    Such as they would serve to keep.

    Locked in the chains of our desires and shame.

    Or maybe something else entirely?

    Exquisitely written nonetheless!

  • Sunshinefalling

    Nice. Enjoyed the video too.

  • Neville

    I was not expecting to stumble upon these... I dunno what I was expecting but hell yes indeed... a stretched page to include four seemingly angst fueled and filled little tainted gems still glowing a shimmer from somewhere dark... or maybe one larger than life and up close and dirty masterpiece .. who knows.. and what does it matter... now thoroughly enjoyed... Neville



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